I'm a long way off a person who understands poetry. I'm a dickhead generally speaking, and a coder after that. Dyslexic autistic after that.
But I've realised that despite my pointed ignorance, there's a lot to be said for poetry.
I endured the same poetry as every other Irish child did in school, and it annoyed me that there was clearly something going on in the whole poetry buzz, even though I didn't understand it.
I was able to understand certain things, when you filed the bit of metal it smoothed out a bit, but seeing as I'd not done a fucking degree in The Classics when I was 14, Yeats with his perne in a gyre whilst he was SAILING TO BYZANTIUM rang a bit of a dead chord.
I'm not criticizing Yeats. I'm sure he was sound. (I'm not at all sure he was sound, and I suspect he was a cunt.)
But what my point is that hip hop is very clearly poetry, and it's accessible.
So, seeing as I know fuck all about poetry, and fuck all about the arts in general, never so much as looked at an arts degree, I've decided I'm the man to revamp the poetry syllabus in Ireland. And that revamp is going to include Biggie Smalls.
My proposal is to rip out about 90% of the current poetry out of the Leaving Cert English, and replace it with the likes of Biggie Small's Niggas Bleed.
Let's go over this.
"Today's agenda: get the suitcase up in the Centra
Go to room 112, tell 'em Blaco sent you
Feel the strangness? if no money exchanges?
I got these kids in Ranges, to leave them niggas brainless."
Alright. Poetry, to me, is about building pictures with as few words as possible. Let's have a look at what happened here.
They are planning a hit. They are wanting to get the suitcase (read cash) that's been left in the Centra (?) I dunno, why not I suppose.
Go to this place, and things are going to be fucked, so just use the name Blaco. You'll be OK. If things go wrong, you get TF out. Don't worry, I'll deal with the inevitable shitstorm. Get out.
"All they tote is stainless, you just remain as calm as possible, make the deal go through.
If not, here's 12 shots, we know how you do.
Please make your killings clean, slugs up in between their eyes, like True Lies, kill 'em and flee the scene"
OK. So we're back onto logistics. And we're not fucking around. But the rhyming scheme is split(? see lack of arts degree above), now we're rhyming over verses (??). Basically we've broken the rhyming scheme. But we're still rhyming.
"Just bring back the coke or the cream
Or else, your life is on the shelf, we mean this Frank
Them cats we fucking with put bombs in yo' moms gas tank"
This is amazing. Frank has zoned out a bit, and it staring out the window. He's not focusing. So we need to get him back paying attention. Also Cash Rules Everything Around you.
"Let's get this money baby, they shady? we get shady"
Once again. We mean business.
"Dress up like ladies and burn 'em with dirty 380's
Then they come to kill our babies, that's all out"
HOW IS THIS NOT A PICTURE?? This, those line, create an amazing image. It's filled with danger, possibly a perfect outcome but in reality you know it's doomed somehow. It just goes on from there.
All of this is to me what poetry should be. If there's anything that needs to be dangerous in school, it should be poetry. And possibly Irish. I'll fix the Irish curriculum in another post.
But I've realised that despite my pointed ignorance, there's a lot to be said for poetry.
I endured the same poetry as every other Irish child did in school, and it annoyed me that there was clearly something going on in the whole poetry buzz, even though I didn't understand it.
I was able to understand certain things, when you filed the bit of metal it smoothed out a bit, but seeing as I'd not done a fucking degree in The Classics when I was 14, Yeats with his perne in a gyre whilst he was SAILING TO BYZANTIUM rang a bit of a dead chord.
I'm not criticizing Yeats. I'm sure he was sound. (I'm not at all sure he was sound, and I suspect he was a cunt.)
But what my point is that hip hop is very clearly poetry, and it's accessible.
So, seeing as I know fuck all about poetry, and fuck all about the arts in general, never so much as looked at an arts degree, I've decided I'm the man to revamp the poetry syllabus in Ireland. And that revamp is going to include Biggie Smalls.
My proposal is to rip out about 90% of the current poetry out of the Leaving Cert English, and replace it with the likes of Biggie Small's Niggas Bleed.
Let's go over this.
"Today's agenda: get the suitcase up in the Centra
Go to room 112, tell 'em Blaco sent you
Feel the strangness? if no money exchanges?
I got these kids in Ranges, to leave them niggas brainless."
Alright. Poetry, to me, is about building pictures with as few words as possible. Let's have a look at what happened here.
They are planning a hit. They are wanting to get the suitcase (read cash) that's been left in the Centra (?) I dunno, why not I suppose.
Go to this place, and things are going to be fucked, so just use the name Blaco. You'll be OK. If things go wrong, you get TF out. Don't worry, I'll deal with the inevitable shitstorm. Get out.
"All they tote is stainless, you just remain as calm as possible, make the deal go through.
If not, here's 12 shots, we know how you do.
Please make your killings clean, slugs up in between their eyes, like True Lies, kill 'em and flee the scene"
OK. So we're back onto logistics. And we're not fucking around. But the rhyming scheme is split(? see lack of arts degree above), now we're rhyming over verses (??). Basically we've broken the rhyming scheme. But we're still rhyming.
"Just bring back the coke or the cream
Or else, your life is on the shelf, we mean this Frank
Them cats we fucking with put bombs in yo' moms gas tank"
This is amazing. Frank has zoned out a bit, and it staring out the window. He's not focusing. So we need to get him back paying attention. Also Cash Rules Everything Around you.
"Let's get this money baby, they shady? we get shady"
Once again. We mean business.
"Dress up like ladies and burn 'em with dirty 380's
Then they come to kill our babies, that's all out"
HOW IS THIS NOT A PICTURE?? This, those line, create an amazing image. It's filled with danger, possibly a perfect outcome but in reality you know it's doomed somehow. It just goes on from there.
All of this is to me what poetry should be. If there's anything that needs to be dangerous in school, it should be poetry. And possibly Irish. I'll fix the Irish curriculum in another post.