A promise is a promise. Argh. This is the 99th published post and the 101th post including drafts. If someone deletes that nothingness by Wei Tai this will be the 100th post including drafts. Sadly, I cannot, because I am just a contributor.
I have promised that I would discuss the good points of his poetry, which, sadly, pop up from time to time. It was a decision made in desperation and in hope that he would not post a poem by Wednesday.. But he did. And I will keep to my part too.
Forget-me-not
Thinking thinking thinking,
He tried to concentrate
On the little running black notes
That scurried through his head.
Any guy with good pronunciation will know that concentrate and head do not rhyme. Running is not a good adjective for black notes. The only good part is the non-forcedness, which is due to another horrible but widely used ABCB rhyme scheme.
The theme that flowed on endless
Was one of tarnished sorrow;
It spread itself within his mind
Where tears could barely follow.
Shouldn't it be endlessly?
It made him cry, it made him sigh,
It stuck with stubborn will.
He tried to shut it out of mind,
But it kept on playing, still.
Nothing here. This stanza is just.. average. Not too bad, but not very good either.
He knew not where it came from,
Nor where its chords would end!
Despaired, he sang it to himself –
But not to fellow man.
End and man. Again.
That tune – it flowed on through his brain,
Mysteriously evolving;
It changed in size and shape and sound,
A shadow always turning.
Evolving and turning.
It climbed the hills and breached the turns
Of countless wrong neuroses,
Growing, swirling, always expanding
In little musical doses.
Dictionary.com says that neuroses is the plural of a disease called neurosis. You sure that is what you mean? Why not try neurons? Here is a subtle FORCED RHYME. Well, at least you have learnt by putting the forced rhyme first.
Slowly its voice and timbre changed,
No more a crying youth,
It laughed with the winds of love and life,
And grew a wisdom-tooth.
Urrrrrrrr. Another average paragraph.
At last it reached a seeming end,
A satisfying finale –
But oh how he wished to live life again –
“Da capo al fine”
Please. Dulce et decorum est. You know how I dislike quotations from other languages in poetry.
He grabbed a pen and wrote it down,
From its first note to its last,
He spilled his gladness and his tears,
And spilled his humble past.
Okay... Not too bad. Just two problems. Firstly, gladness is NOT a good word in this context. Secondly, don't repeat spilled.
When he was done he laid his pen
Beside the creaking bed,
He took the dripping manuscript
And laid it by his head.
Dripping. An image of a piece of paper, soggy with ink, comes to mind. Not the image I suppose you wanted to produce.
That tune would trouble him no more,
But it would never, ever rot –
For such is the life of every man –
I sing, thus forget. me. not.
Okay. An innocuous conclusion to the poem. Not bad, just that the first full stop in the last line brings the reader grinding to an abrupt halt. Then in pops another word. And another pause. And another word. it just doesn't sound right.
Monday, 28 July 2008
Thursday, 10 July 2008
people on facebook
i did some browsing around facebook, and found out which teachers use facebook as well:
aymie david (apparently she was called Aymie LeAnne Lim before the marriage)
valerie keh (hmm.. she took quite a lot of photos of the MM...)
well that's about it. if you come across other teachers' profiles/blogs etc, let us know! :)
Tuesday, 8 July 2008
Parody
This is a limerick about one of 2K's best-loved (ahem) poets.
Ain't can't e'er
won't shan't ne'er
These many contractions
just serve as distractions
remove them and it will be be'er.
Anonymous (not Blubber)
Ain't can't e'er
won't shan't ne'er
These many contractions
just serve as distractions
remove them and it will be be'er.
Anonymous (not Blubber)
Monday, 7 July 2008
Desmond vs. Nugget
This is the first of the "2K on Cam" video series (which will take over the Epic Phail cartoons), this one titled "Desmond pwns Nugget". Do tune in on summit week for the next one, "Air Hockey with You".
Ouch.
Crossroads
I’m waiting at the Crossroads,
Don’t know which path to take,
And oh what nameless struggles
Impede this choice I make!
Another ABCB rhyme scheme. Here's a little advice to anyone who wants to follow: Combine the first two and last two lines of the stanza, and pop! You have an AA rhyme scheme.
Example:
I’m waiting at the Crossroads, Don’t know which path to take,
And oh what nameless struggles Impede this choice I make!
Make is abit forced. Kwek just cannot seem to learn the technique that makes it sound so much better: Put the forced rhyme first.
No idea where each path leads –
They alter by the day,
I’ll need some guidance fast and soon
For I’ll have to choose my way!
The language here is messy. Last line especially.
Right now my room is strewn about
With books and music scores
Biology and Beethoven
Both lurk behind my doors!
Okay. So... Let's glean a few things from this stanza. First, Kwek's room has more than one door. And he puts stuff behind his doors, not at a sensible place such as on a desk. How clever. We should all start stuffing our stuff behind our doors.
To follow in Dad’s footsteps,
And don that white lab-coat,
Or turn my mind to music,
And cross this less-trod moat?
I see. We tread on moats. What's your moat filled with? Non-Newtonian fluid?
It’s hard to spend my time on both –
They’re equally demanding;
Yet both vie for my attention –
My music, and my schooling.
Urgh. -ing rhymes are so... lame.
I’ll toss a coin or pick a rose
To kill my waiting time,
But when I’m called to fill that form –
When those bells of fate do chime –
Alright. Gosh the last line is so.. odd. And out of place.
I’ll have to pray for wisdom,
And hope that choice is best,
But one thin I know for sure e’en now –
That this ain’t my final test.
Cool. A thin. Third line we get Kwek's favourite poetic device... The contraction! Last line looks all nice and rosy, doesn't it? Kwek had to resort to using the nonstandard ain't. To be perfectly correct, it should be "isn't", but Kwek didn't wanna put in the extra syllable. Too transparent, Kwek.
Ouch.
I’m waiting at the Crossroads,
Don’t know which path to take,
And oh what nameless struggles
Impede this choice I make!
Another ABCB rhyme scheme. Here's a little advice to anyone who wants to follow: Combine the first two and last two lines of the stanza, and pop! You have an AA rhyme scheme.
Example:
I’m waiting at the Crossroads, Don’t know which path to take,
And oh what nameless struggles Impede this choice I make!
Make is abit forced. Kwek just cannot seem to learn the technique that makes it sound so much better: Put the forced rhyme first.
No idea where each path leads –
They alter by the day,
I’ll need some guidance fast and soon
For I’ll have to choose my way!
The language here is messy. Last line especially.
Right now my room is strewn about
With books and music scores
Biology and Beethoven
Both lurk behind my doors!
Okay. So... Let's glean a few things from this stanza. First, Kwek's room has more than one door. And he puts stuff behind his doors, not at a sensible place such as on a desk. How clever. We should all start stuffing our stuff behind our doors.
To follow in Dad’s footsteps,
And don that white lab-coat,
Or turn my mind to music,
And cross this less-trod moat?
I see. We tread on moats. What's your moat filled with? Non-Newtonian fluid?
It’s hard to spend my time on both –
They’re equally demanding;
Yet both vie for my attention –
My music, and my schooling.
Urgh. -ing rhymes are so... lame.
I’ll toss a coin or pick a rose
To kill my waiting time,
But when I’m called to fill that form –
When those bells of fate do chime –
Alright. Gosh the last line is so.. odd. And out of place.
I’ll have to pray for wisdom,
And hope that choice is best,
But one thin I know for sure e’en now –
That this ain’t my final test.
Cool. A thin. Third line we get Kwek's favourite poetic device... The contraction! Last line looks all nice and rosy, doesn't it? Kwek had to resort to using the nonstandard ain't. To be perfectly correct, it should be "isn't", but Kwek didn't wanna put in the extra syllable. Too transparent, Kwek.
Ouch.
Thursday, 3 July 2008
Congrats!
Congratulations to the Raffles Voices for getting 2 Golds and 1 special award! :) :) :)
Also a reminder to everyone to finish up their history project... X(
Also a reminder to everyone to finish up their history project... X(
Tuesday, 1 July 2008
I'm Bored
Yes, I am. I'm too bored to do anything other than train my pupitar. Anyway, thanks for your support. Here's a poem that I prepared much earlier, when my victory of the poll became apparent. Kwek really needs a miracle by 3pm today, or else...
Teardrop
Every tear begins its test
Behind the eyelid’s dark recess –
Of hope, joy and life to bless,
And then of sorrow to attest.
Bless is forced. ABBA rhyme scheme, and test and attest is a lousy rhyming pair.
Some are spilled on tactless yawns
That graze the waking of the dawn –
Some are poured on drunken lawns,
That evap’rate like the passing morn.
Even better rhyming scheme. CCCD. I don't even know where to start here. The rhyme is so forced.. And line 4 has another distinctive feature of Kwek's poetry. Can you spot it?
But the tear that finds the slower path
‘Cross hill and dale, through thick and rough –
Slips down the cheeks, dodges the cuff,
And through the beard, that bushy tuft –
Urgh. Another EEEF. Line 2 is a well-hidden distinctive feature of Kwek's poetry, try to spot it.. And rhyme is forced again.
‘Tis the tear that learns the most,
The onetime product of painful throes,
That scales the peaks and crowns the nose –
‘Tis he who of life can toast and boast!
Cool. Rhyme scheme GHHG is back. I suppose the first words of lines 1 and 4 are supposed to be "this is", making it another distinctive feature. Oh well. The rhyme is so forced and it's so much rubbish about a teardrop. Just like Futility.
At last this salty teardrop dries,
And while its salt of passionate ties
Weaves its weary path and dies,
Its soul, joyous now, to heaven flies.
Ohho! Look in the first line. You will see a "salty teardrop". Now why is it described as "salty"? Because Kwek needed two more syllables and could not think of a better adjective. How pitiful.
Basically, why Kwek's poetry always sucks:
1. Contractions
2. Excessive forced rhyme
3. Lack of sincerity
4. Lack of clarity
5. THE SUBJECT
Number 1 is typical, because Kwek must have the right syllables on every line. Let's go count them. 7878, 7879, 9888, 7989, 8979. Yep. All about right thanks to horrible contractions.
Number 2 is self-explanatory.
Number 3 is because he has insufficient use of language devices. And of course, Kwek is incompetent in channelling his emotions through his poems.
Number 4 is like what you see in Futility. If you wanna say something, say it, don't beat around the bush.
Number 5 is very important. Poems about teardrops are just... lame.
Kwek cannot come to accept the harsh reality
Nor can he acknowledge his inferiority
But the die is cast, the poll is sealed, and all the votes are made
And Kwek is last, the truth revealed, as the mighty poll has said
Nor will he ever accept the fact, though we have given proof
But Kwek will fight, though it's in vain, and he has already lost
Our win's in sight, let's not refrain, and he will suffer the cost
We must thrash him hard and sound, till he admits we're best
Go all the way, fight harder still, for we are gaining ground
Make him pay, and break his will, till he is taken down
Teardrop
Every tear begins its test
Behind the eyelid’s dark recess –
Of hope, joy and life to bless,
And then of sorrow to attest.
Bless is forced. ABBA rhyme scheme, and test and attest is a lousy rhyming pair.
Some are spilled on tactless yawns
That graze the waking of the dawn –
Some are poured on drunken lawns,
That evap’rate like the passing morn.
Even better rhyming scheme. CCCD. I don't even know where to start here. The rhyme is so forced.. And line 4 has another distinctive feature of Kwek's poetry. Can you spot it?
But the tear that finds the slower path
‘Cross hill and dale, through thick and rough –
Slips down the cheeks, dodges the cuff,
And through the beard, that bushy tuft –
Urgh. Another EEEF. Line 2 is a well-hidden distinctive feature of Kwek's poetry, try to spot it.. And rhyme is forced again.
‘Tis the tear that learns the most,
The onetime product of painful throes,
That scales the peaks and crowns the nose –
‘Tis he who of life can toast and boast!
Cool. Rhyme scheme GHHG is back. I suppose the first words of lines 1 and 4 are supposed to be "this is", making it another distinctive feature. Oh well. The rhyme is so forced and it's so much rubbish about a teardrop. Just like Futility.
At last this salty teardrop dries,
And while its salt of passionate ties
Weaves its weary path and dies,
Its soul, joyous now, to heaven flies.
Ohho! Look in the first line. You will see a "salty teardrop". Now why is it described as "salty"? Because Kwek needed two more syllables and could not think of a better adjective. How pitiful.
Basically, why Kwek's poetry always sucks:
1. Contractions
2. Excessive forced rhyme
3. Lack of sincerity
4. Lack of clarity
5. THE SUBJECT
Number 1 is typical, because Kwek must have the right syllables on every line. Let's go count them. 7878, 7879, 9888, 7989, 8979. Yep. All about right thanks to horrible contractions.
Number 2 is self-explanatory.
Number 3 is because he has insufficient use of language devices. And of course, Kwek is incompetent in channelling his emotions through his poems.
Number 4 is like what you see in Futility. If you wanna say something, say it, don't beat around the bush.
Number 5 is very important. Poems about teardrops are just... lame.
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