Mad Thoughts by Micah Bauman: Episode 1

Welcome to a new era of awesome. I’ve decided to think about posting videos more often… almost regularly (hmm, odd). You can now, hopefully enjoy videos every week… maybe. I’m really not sure. What do you think? I recorded and edited this in only a few hours so enjoy.

Testimonials, see what people are saying about Mad Thoughts by Micah Bauman:

“it’s a bunch of weird short poems”

– Jon Bauman

What Am I Doing

I’m not really sure what I’m doing anymore. When I started this blog I wrote about “the mission of a writer” or something to that effect. But I have to ask myself, what exactly is the mission of a writer. I know a few writers feel like they are on a mission to change the world or something like that. But I have to ask, how can you change the world when you haven’t even changed your own backyard yet. I don’t write because I have something to say. Which isn’t to say I don’t have anything to say. It’s just that I enjoy saying. Writing has become a habit for me, possibly even an obsession. I don’t think I could ever stop writing. Even I did stop writing… that would be the end of me. I’m not trying to evoke any emotion in my readers or change the way they feel about anything. But if they take something out of my writing, good for them. Anyway, these are just some thoughts I’d like to pass along. Good day.

Emotional Time

I recently was ridiculed on the internet for not liking somebody’s poem. Apparently there is nothing worse you can say to a person than that you honestly think something they wrote is not as good as they think it is. I suppose I was wrong. I suppose I was too cruel. I could’ve said something more positive, but I get the feeling that even then I would be offending people. I’m just too honest with people. One of two things obviously needs to change in the grand scheme of things. Either people need to stop being so sensitive about their poetry or I need to have a change of heart. As my victim says, I just “don’t understand the depths of emotions.” Well this my time to change. My time to be emotional for once in my life. I need to put my overactive imagination and astounding intellect on the back burner and allow my emotions alone to guide me through my writing. Please bear with me as I get in touch with my emotions.

Confused

I am very confused
I am not in a foul mood today
In fact i feel brilliant
like a light is glowing
and that light is bright
it is inside my heart
it is burning my insides
killing me slowly
not really
none of that is true
yet it is very emotional
i am confused

 

Well that’s it. That was my attempt to get in touch with my emotions. I’m not quite sure how I feel about being emotional. It seems silly. Add a comment if you will and have a nice day.

Mixed Up Messages: Turned In For Cunning

So, the other day in math class the teacher got annoyed with people leaving the classroom early. So he said if we left we would be turned in for cutting. And while cutting is indeed bad I initially misheard his warning as being turned in for cunning. Even if that is not what he said it’s certainly more interesting, if not necessarily grammatically. How do does one be turned in for cunning. I experimented with this in my journal but I’m not quite sure. What do you guys think?

i have been turned in for cunning
for clever
for deceit
caught in the act of sneak
and now i must face the consequence
i will never cun again

Poets Are Jerks

Okay, so not all poets are jerks. But now after slacking off for a few weeks I’ve decided to come back to senses… and my nonsenses. I need to write now!

So last week I went to that see that poet, Jennifer Miller Carboni,  at the library. Don’t get the wrong idea. She was nice and read some pretty neat poems. She had her nephew with her, who read a Shel Silverstein poem, which was cute. But the one thing I noticed was that only a few people showed up. Isn’t that odd. Is it really true that no reads poetry. She tried to fix this making her poems simple and easy to understand or maybe that’s just her style I don’t know. Yet I can’t help but think that the art of writing is slowly dying away and we ,the writers, only have ourselves to blame.

When is the last time you just casually offered to read someone poetry? Compare that to the last time you shared music or went to the movies. People don’t just casually read and write poetry anymore. They always have an ulterior motive. They always have to promote themselves and their way of thinking. They all have a baloney goal they seek to score, whether political, religious or whatever pile of crap they want you to buy.

But maybe all of this is our, as the writers fault. The biggest flaw of the modern writer is our outrageous pride. A lot of us, me included, have assumed that some people are not understand our art. I’ve acted before as if the world isn’t ready for my amazing form of work. The time has come to stop being so selfish and start educating people.

Anyway thank you for listening to my rant and have an atypical day. I’m gonna eat some pizza now. Bye.

Changing Your Approach

I am an artist in every sense of the word. But enough about me. Unless you wanted to talk about me? Sorry, I got something else on my mind today. I got a lot on my mind. I’m a busy guy. Okay not really. But my father apparently is I suppose. He’s a poet. Not many people know what a poet is. Last post I asked that question with a curious result.  But poets are neat. Poets are someone I’d love to associate myself with. More importantly their people that should be associated with me.

But get to the point you say. The point is… evidently there is going to be a poet in my “wonderful hometown” of Lock Haven, at the Ross Library very soon. Apparently she’s a newscaster too. But who cares about the news. Lets talk about poetry. Her is name is Jennifer Miller Carboni and I haven’t read anything from her yet but would be interested what she has to say as she has actually…*gasps*… gotten a book about poetry published. What an accomplishment? wait a second that wasn’t a question She deserves a standing ovation no matter what you say.

The title of Jennifer Miller Carboni’s book, which again I’m sorry I haven’t read yet, is titled No One Reads Poetry Anymore. This is a subject that has petrified my father for a while now and we should all be shocked. What if people never listened to the radio anymore or made bad prime time TV shows anymore? This is a travesty and we should all be outraged. But there is hope. The only thing you have to do is change your approach.

That’s right I said “change your approach”. Don’t look at me like that. “But what’s wrong with my approach? Are you saying I’m a bad artist or a bad poet?” you ask. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying when your literally dropping poetry on people, you shouldn’t be shocked when people begin to get sick of it.

Allow me to provide a comparison. Have you seen any of the new Five Hour Energy commercials in which the sheriff threatens you into buying his product even after you’ve already purchased enough coffee to be set for life. If not watch this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ylEFp1MPak8list=UUqZ9m2BQETnJlng8_osG5KQ

Edit: sorry it wouldn’t let me embed the video I wanted to post.
If some one would do that to you in real life, you would be pissed off, pardon my language. Who does he think he is? People love their coffee. And there’s one thing the sheriff has forgotten to mention and that is that his horrendous little energy shot taste like coughing syrup and most people would rather not drink coffee syrup first thing in the morning.

Jennifer says she wouldn’t call her work poetry. She prefers the term freestyle poetry. Jennifer are you reading this, Jen?, If you’re gonna call poetry anything besides poetry, call it art. Thanks for reading and have good night or day or whatever it is in your little corner of the universe. *winks* Goodbye.

What Is Poetry

Hello my subjects. Are you reading for some more experiments?

Okay. So it wasn’t fair yesterday when I picked on an old dead goose. But to be fair, I’ve told off plenty of so called “poets” on the internet. I wish I could speak with these people in real life.

You see, when I’m bored I visit a website called yahoo answers (i wouldn’t recommend it). There are tons are writers on there and honesty most of them are terrible. So today I performed a little experiment. That’s what I do. I asked a question on the  site. I asked what they thought poetry was.

I only received four answers. It was disappointing but I am still excited that I was able to learn. Here’s the best/worst answer I received (slightly edited for better viewing):

“Imagine someone able to reach into themselves, pulling out their brains and souls, then staining a bit of paper with those bleeding emotions, creating something with words.”

Is creating art that painful? I’ve never felt any of this whilst writing. Am I a cold, emotionless, mindless zombie? Apparently, yes I am. But I’m still more creative than most folks.  Thanks again to the internet. Talk to you later, “buddy”.

The Artist’s Classifieds: Pen Sitter

i need some one to watch my pen while i’m away
a pure soul
ignorant of artistry
ignorant of truth
must have ten years of experience
no more no less
the job is simple
yet frightening
so maintain a heart of stone
it’s stressful keeping it in such excellent shape
without a tiny scratch or smear
i’m afraid the ink will dissipate
a tragedy that would be
for without ink a pen is no more than a mediocre sword
that’s why i’m buying a gun
my precious pen must not be hurt
so you can find me at the corner of genius and perfection
reply in five days

Celebrate Your Independence?

A Fourth of July fireworks display at the Wash...
According to the internet it’s a wonderful day for fireworks. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Are you there? Are you aware tomorrow is American Independence Day? Do you care?  Am I asking too many questions? Questions are annoying. Aren’t they? It’s these very questions that are threatening our Independence. Luckily I’m not here to ask questions. I have all the answers. I will ask of you no questions as you exercise your very important right to great blog posts. Soon we will be celebrating with wonderful booming fireworks. You want some? You’ll have to buy your own.

That’s how Independence works. That will be nine bucks. Take it or leave it.

You see, when you’re a writer it’s always best to give someone all the answers. You shouldn’t have to think hard about anything! It’s a holiday. Luckily for you I’m here. And thanks to this nation’s wonderful forefathers, who seem to keep making more and more babies, we have this wonderful place called the internet to come together and be completely dependent on it. What is independence without a little dependence, eh? No need to go to the library. Unless you wanna pick me up a movie there. Do ya? The internet is a wonderful thing. If only our forefathers could see how grown and independent we all are. It’s a wonderful thing.

I’ll be back. Don’t worry. If you have any questions, don’t ask me. You can do it. You’re independent.

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