This piece concerns the ways in which media is both shaped by biases and upholding them, as well as providing space for re-interpretation and identification.
In some ways it is about finding meaning even in mass produced media and taking it seriously as a source of culture. Often I find myself wondering that discussions of what is considered art and what is "content" miss why e.g. media monopolies are bad.
This piece was also definitely made when AI art was in an earlier stage and at first I was worried I would disagree with my past stance. But I think my poem mostly expressed my frustration over how in trying to define art narrowly discussions are missing the bigger picture of environmental and data concerns.
The Hathaway poem is definitely my favourite, but I am also glad to be able to link to the Solar Sands Kinkade video, because I think about it a lot.
I wrote this poem after ordering a limited edition Blu Ray of Mobile Suit Gundam Hathaway. At the time the only available shipping option was express shipping, so I felt especially guilty.
There is a clear disconnect between the idea of a movie deeply concerned with the environment and the massive business behind its production. And yet, the art direction and music of the movie are exceptional and the story feels touching to me. So, this poem is mostly about disconnect and identification with art within unethical business models.
The reference to sensitivity readers aims to point towards how companies tend to display values not out of care but based on what is marketable. This does, however, not mean that indvidual people working on projects may or may not care about these issues.
I wrote this because I was washing a blood stain under the sink and wondered if Macbeth would have had an easier time washing the blood off his hands if he was a trans man. Which made me realise then he would have realised there are men who are not born by women. Which would kind of make the story unable to work out.
In the end I suppose this poem is about becoming a man because you want to and incidentally about Macbeth. What if Macduff's parent were trans and what if Macbeth and Banquo had a child to fulfill both parts of the prophecy.
It is also about how one of the things me and Tolkien agree on is that the branch disguises and the caesarean section are unsatisfying plot elements.
This is a follow up to the Hathaway poem.
I believe this one is self explanatory as well. There is, all things considered, not much out there that acknowledges selective mutism, so every instance still feels special to me.
There is meaning to be found in anything because everyone reacts to art differently and much of the meaning of anything is produced by the audience. That is why discussions about how "real" art requires skill made me pause.
I don't believe AI art is bad specifically because art needs to display a hyperspecific skillset the critic considers essential. But based on my vague knowledge of neural networks I was worried about whose data is used for these models, what biases it would learn, how these models probably require large datasets that can only really be maintained by corporations with a lot of money and storage space etc.
The skill discussion just seemed to miss the point, which reminded me of this video about Kinkade I watched. He seems to have been an unpleasant person, but arguing that art that is enjoyed by many people all over the world is meaningless because it is "bad art" once again seems to miss the point why there is a problem.
This piece is centred around consumption and sympathy for inanimate objects. I have tried to grapple with how the latter intersects with consumerism; I believe it is difficult, as strong bonds with objects can oppose capitalist systems by not seeing things as disposable, nothing truly is.
But coupled with an environment that consistenly urges one to purchase new things.. people are often overwhelmed by the amount of stuff they have. But of course their attachment does not lessen, so problems arise.
I believe I have moved on in the way I conceptualise things somewhat since making this piece but I still find myself with the same sort of empathy for those who, like me, struggle with attachment to objects and believe both trying to preserve and trying to reduce the things I own are important.
I believe this piece is self explanatory, as I incorporated explanations into its design.
Around the time I experienced a shift that I found useful; instead of blaming myself for being unable to grapple with my attachment I tried to investigate it and see my desire to make sure things are not thrown away in a positive light. In the end, it weirdly helps to make separations a little easier.
This piece is about how existing inevitably means that one will cause harm. Basically it is about struggling to determine how much harm one is "allowed" to cause and whether the reason feels justifiable.
It is an "eternal purgatory" because one keeps seeing decay and harm around oneself, often feeling powerless to do anything about intricate systems. The central theme, i believe, is to try to find an understanding of people stuck in any part of the system who are harming themselves and others.
But despite this, of course, the harm always has to be acknowledged.
I was listening to an interview on the radio on a drive home (grocery shopping I believe). The guest was talking about how those who drive huge SUVs with Fuck Greta stickers usually live in villages or more remote places.
Now obviously I disagree with the sentiment of those people. But it felt unfair to me to look at this as an isolated problem of small minded people in villages, when the infrastructure of those villages forces them to rely on cars.
I imagine to cope with that one might be inclined to believe cars are not something one is constrained by, but a tool for freedom that environmentalists are trying to take away.
I think I wanted the repetition to stress how frustrating it is to be told to access resources that aren't really there
I don't like fireworks much because they are dangerous and loud. In addition to creating garbage, animals seem to share my sentiment and get scared by them as well. It feels like a weird way to celebrate if you think about it.
The first four lines are actually a translation of a poem me and my brother wrote when I was a child. "Ui, zwei Mäusle / sitzed uff em Herzlehäusle / 's oine schenkt em andere / a Blumesträußle" (wow, two little mice / are sitting on a heart house / one of them gives the other / a flower bouquet).
The rest of the poem is about my unease about the "flower industry". I imagine Valentine's day turns a large profit.
Out of all the Medikinet capsules for adults on the German market, none of them seemed to not contain gelatine at the time I wrote this poem.
I like looking at flowers but it makes me feel disconnected because I do not know much about them. My only relationship to them is the way they make me feel. It is a personal connection to some degree, but it is shallow.
A simple question of possibility. Often it is difficult to realise you can (mostly) just do whatever.
I used to talk about drinking Rivella a lot, but because it is a very regional thing I often ended up citing the Wikipedia article to explain to people what it is.
The drink was not very successful in Germany and stopped being sold here. In a way it made not drinking it because it contains milk easier for me.
I was wondering if it is unethical to encourage my friend who drinks milk to try it on her stay at Zürich airport.
The form is inspired by "Die Aufstellung des 1. FC Nürnberg vom 27.1.1968" by Peter Handke, a poem I have been thinking about a lot ever since it came up as an example in a "What is Poetry?" discussion in a seminar.
This one is about personal fears versus environmental fears that are much larger than ones own worries. It also works out well because the character skin maps in the game I was modding have a layer called UV map.
This one is about a fear of change you cannot perceive (yet). Even though the differences might seem small on paper, one is easily affected by change in the air.
This one is about nostalgia and the romanticisation of "small farmers". I tried to combine personal feelings of unease with larger issues.
This was definitely heavily influenced by my environment and how it impacts my relationship with other people
I always have a tendency to get personal, because after all that is the perspective I know best. But this piece definitely shows a struggle with identity
In a way it is a successor to both "It's Media" and "I heart objects"; but it also was born out of a strong desire to organise and categorise my space and feelings.
Weirdly, cleaning became a huge inspiration for this because it made me rethink my relationship to my possessions.
Unfortunately, Muttis Liebling is the only movie that inspired Neverland that I could track down because I watched all of them over 10 years ago. Funnily enough it was my least favourite.
This poem is about people who collect merchandise of a specific character or franchise. Sometimes people have separate rooms in their house or even rent them to display their collection.
I think one's relationship to fictional characters can reveal things about their relationship to themselves, as there are specific reasons media might appeal to one. The poem is also about how people's wish to display their appreciation is used by companies trying to make money.
This is a sonnet about a plushie that I wrote to cheer myself up. The character in question fits into the trope of the unobtainable woman because he is unable to return my feelings.
The plushie is not only a stand-in for the character but also creates connection with other people (my friend who sent it to me) and inspires change in me (the drive to create). As such there is a "realness" to the love.
This poem is inspired by a number of things. For one, And Then We Saw the Daughter of the Minotaur by Leonora Carrington. But is is also inspired by the minotaur section of House of Leaves , a book I did not care for much otherwise to be honest, and moths settling in an unused room of our house.
It is about a minotaur who feels unsafe in their own home. They also feel bad about eating people but as they have no other food source; it is what they must do. To sustain themself they rely on the explorers of the labyrinth experiencing the nightmare of being lost
I opted for short sections that are clearly divided to stress the restlessness and the unease of the space the minotaur lives in. The Roman numerals are there to give a serious tone and perhaps imply a sort of past/finality.
I think the uneasiness in ones own space sort of reflects both me and the moths. They have not done anything "wrong" simply existing so trying to get rid of them in my space feels violent.
A poem that aspires to a tanka structure but does not quite reach it. It is about how language learning is easier if one can establish a personal connection to the task, for instance, by attaching words to specific experiences. It's unclear structure is unsure where to go, lacking the ability to comprehensively express itself for now.
There are many different ways to adapt the same story and create something. This poem is about three different types of feelings I have about the same myth.
I remember finding beauty in the story of Pygmalion and Galatea while translating it for a Latin test perhaps because I felt for Pygmalio'ss loneliness. I think over time I felt less positively about the story because it felt a little creepy to make your perfect girlfriend. And even less I could understand why people applied the story to Frankenstein which felt like a totally different sort of creation myth to me.
Recently I found that I do not mind the reference to the myth in the music video for Acanthe, perhaps because it is approaching it from a totally different angle.
This is both about a specific doll that used to be able to play "It's a small world after all" when being squeezed and the concept of Uncanney Valley people experience when looking at dolls in general. The lines alternate between being longer and shorter to accentuate the rift that makes people dislike things that were made specifically to be loved and considered cute.
In Konstanz I saw a coat of arms with a pigeon on it that had these anti-bird spikes installed on top of it. This is an ode of appreciation for pigeons, who are sometimes loved for their symbolic meaning, but abandoned on the streets.
A poem that tries to be disjointed and create space between its elements. It is exhausting to think about the ways in which everything is related sometimes, and making connections can be difficult. Sometimes loneliness and blank spaces seem appealing.
I was thinking about the Kraftwerk song "Metall auf Metall" because the way cold metal feels and tastes feels deterring in the same way loneliness can keep you from wanting to seek connections
This poem is named after one of my favourite Playmobil buildings as a child. It transcribes the words of an assignment from approximately the third grade that I found while tidying. At first the English translation was not supposed to be part of the actual poem, but it ended up becoming an exercise in finding meaning and putting it in words, as well as a way to create an imagined past and dealing with my own past as well.
This is trying to be a very concise and short autobiography, reduced to its bare minimum.
I suppose in a way it is about a feeling of inability to change and a drive to be something different that ends up accumulating a weird sense of self. But it is also about cherishing the steps to get to where you are now.
In a way, this is a poem about never growing up, hence the title. But most of all it is about confusion about other people's ideas of what growing up is supposed to look like.
I could never relate to stories about loss of childhood innocence because the concept felt too vague and undefined to me. And how does "romance" stand in opposition to having interests or whatever "purity" is anyway?
Not quite a poem about religion, but about how I feel about religious symbols as reminders of other people's faith in the world.
I randomly chose a line length of about 5 syllables and 9 lines per stanza, which after looking up the meaning of the numbers does not seem to mean anything. But in a way it fits the theme of creating meaning. The short lines also introduce a lot of breaks into the poem that interrupt its conversational tone and create uncertainty.
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