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Thursday, March 29, 2007

Here, here, I got one, listen to this

Okay, funny story.
When I was younger (which means this is a story about the past, which should, by all rights, be forgotten), Steve, Dan and I wrote disgusting poems (mostly full of my big disgusting words) and sent them into poetry.com, which was some site that raved about themselves and how exclusive they are. All of our poetry got accepted into their books with grand congratulations and proclamations of honor airmailed to us. For example, the very first, The Chronicles of Yitmas:

Divided we are, thus, in our relations
Pasteurized we are within;
Rent like torn vines apart from the mother
Of vespulations unseen and unheard
Yet tangible, like thirty-some marnicles?
Masking, hording incomplete requests
To rectify with riptal sense
That harnessed, beats the chorus like
A wave of final fishing skills
Who possessed them? Who thought
He wrought the patience for such
A profession that couldn't be hallucinated.
Hearken honestly, originality comes frivolous.
Requisite harmonious bits of strategim
That cannot be replaced or harmed likewise.
Forevermore, lisping in the since of the synch.
Withersoever has with self-expression,
Withered marks of hapless trent-fulls?

How's your headache?
Basically, we thought it was hilarious, for some reason, and we kept poking fun at all the poets who were taking their honors seriously. We even went so far as to think up a background for her (the publishers requested a small blurb about her life to go next to her poetry), and a picture, incidentally, from Google, the mother of all things.
Nancy Hagen Yitmas soon evolved into the name that I automatically put down under things that I didn't want to take credit for. Something I'd written, didn't quite want to throw away, but didn't want anyone to know I'd had any part in. Like poetry that was too evil, or about some of the darker aspects of romance. Or...things. That should've never been written. (But anyway.)
Nancy Hagen Yitmas took on the role of my guiltless pseudonym, later on in life. Just the name I would put down when I wanted people's honest opinion. Or when I didn't want people trying to figure out why I'd written a song about people dying or a song about losing a loved-one. People never seemed to understand that they were just nice ideas. Like making a hippopotamus out of play-dough.
Now I write N. Hagen Yitmas as a special little inside joke for only Elaina to grasp. But I guess I don't deem the inside joke of much worth because I'm destroying it now.
So yes. That's who N. Hagen Yitmas is.

Well I thought it was funny.

9 comments:

Anonymous Steve said...

Those Poems were so great! ah good ol days

3/29/2007 8:06 PM  
Blogger Elaina said...

Yitmas wrote some great stuff (for some reason the one with the "poke a straw into my world" metaphor popped up in my spongy head the other day...got that lying around anywhere?)
OH OH how's this for a power wave of nostalgia:
DeviousPoet
Was it Adam in Finland? Iceland? Antarctica? Don't quite recall.
That guy could generate some wicked drama!
WOOT!!

3/29/2007 8:14 PM  
Anonymous Aiko said...

Pretty funny stuff, Flo! I'll bet she wrote some treasures.

3/29/2007 9:06 PM  
Anonymous nina said...

How'd u come up w/ "Hagan Yitmas," of all names?

3/29/2007 10:07 PM  
Anonymous Sophie said...

I liked "pulling on to the shoulder", what's interesting to me is that it sounds like a man talking..maybe it's the way you used the word "honey", or the line in the title..

3/30/2007 4:04 AM  
Blogger Florence said...

Steve: Yeah they were. I miss those good ol days.

Elaina: I liked that one too! That one actually came out faintly poetic. Maybe I'll find it and post it, along with some other Yitmas classics.
DeviousPoet. That was a scary lapse of judgment. I forget where he was from. Iceland, probably. We'd have to be total idiots to make him from Finland or Antarctica. You're right, he was Adam, wasn't he? And why did we feel like he needed to be a man? Again? Maybe I wanted to make up an ideal man that I could fall in love with in deep realms of poetry. Or something sick.

Aich: She did write some real sweet treasures, I tell ya.

Nina: I don't know. Hagen seemed to be a good name. Nancy was just kind of an atarimae name for a sick weirdo. Plus Yitmas...we wanted a Y name like Yoder, but Yoder was too obvious.

Sophie: Thanks!!! I kinda liked it too. I think I actually was picturing a man as I was writing it (something disturbing that happens to me some of the time), and I'm very very happy that you got that impression. I think it must be because he talks sorta sweet and sounds a little more sensible and strong. It could just be my failed attempts at trying to make him sound sorta sweet, sensible and strong. Haha.

3/30/2007 9:01 AM  
Anonymous sunny said...

Oh, it's hillarious alright. So Ms. Yitmas is Amish, ey? Good name for an Amish woman. Love it. Kudos.

3/30/2007 12:23 PM  
Blogger Pon said...

well funny was right Yitmas. I like your poetry Flo.

4/01/2007 6:03 PM  
Anonymous aika said...

haha, i wish you were here to tell me that in person, would have been hilarious! remember the good old days when i'd get you to talk to me and tell me funny stuff all night, and wouldn't let you go to sleep no matter how tired you got... lets get back to the garden.

4/08/2007 8:38 PM  

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