Timeline.
June 2nd, 2007. Likely uploaded right after I'm a Statue (Poem Version). This one tops the previous one with a little over 1900 views. Five likes and sixteen dislikes, this one seems to be more hated. The only vaguely interesting comment is by mvpkent, who writes, "Jack of many trades. Master of NONE!" And it has two thumbs up. I tried to stalk two of the four commenters--because they were encouraging--but results were inconclusive. My guess is they're just assholes.
Presentation.
So, clearly edited from the same footage, Daniel Songer recites his poem "Queen of the Thunder." Part of me wonders how exactly he is editing this footage, because though you might not have noticed the pause symbol in the top right corner at the end of "I'm a Statue," the play symbol at the beginning of this one is obvious. To make the beginning of this video more awkward, it is clearly in mid-sentence. Not to mention he is still fiddling with that goddamn tie.
I'd like to do for you. It's called Queen of the Thunder.My assumption is he cut off "The next poem," but if that is really the case, then why am I still seeing that damn play symbol? Also, this calls into question not just Dan's editing skills, but more importantly: Is it possible that he was embarrassed by the way he delivered that line? Why else would he have edited it out? Enough speculation. It really is entirely likely that he was working off cheap editing software and just had no clue what he was doing. I think that explanation might be the mantra of this blog.
There's not much to add, obviously, from the "I'm a Statue (Poem Version)," when it comes to the setting or Dan's dress, demeanor, and delivery. He's still a cliché poet from the mind of a child, talking in a "fancy" voice, and still throwing his arms around like he's having a stroke. There are few subtle differences in his gestures and vocals, however. I think he's running out of gestures and "razzle dazzle." And as for his vocals, well, I'll get to that.
I thought he was bad in the last video. It goes to show just exactly how naive I really am. It's only going to get worse, my friends. Do you really want to take this ride all the way to the end? He's still doing that stupid thing with his hand where it's not really closed, but it's with his left hand now, so I know it can't be a particular injury or something. My best guess is that he's just never learned how to actually make a decent fist or he has a birth defect. There's another mantra. He opens his arms up and out six times as if he's making a W. If that's not bad enough, the fourth time he does it he spins around. He fucking spins around?! I really don't have an explanation for this. The opening of the arms is supposed to be a grand gesture and to the sky, which he repeats because he's not creative enough to find other ways to make us feel like The Queen of the Thunder is big and amazing. Even that might be giving him too much credit. But the deeper I explore the spinning, the more confused and frustrated I am. I really don't know what he thinks he's doing. I was going to compare his poetry to a bad play, but that's not really any closer.
You know what else he does even more this time? Crouching. I had a field day making fun of Mr. Songer for crouching down while reciting "I'm a Statue." It was this amazing discovery I made where he was too damned lazy to get down on one knee because he would have to get back up too soon. And now it's like he's already jumped the shark, on his second poem, crouching at three different times. I'm starting to think that crouching isn't lazy because it's not one knee but because he's actually too tired to stand the whole time. No, see, because this is DanPoetMan and that would make too much sense. He actually thinks all of these gesticulations are in some way indicative of the deeper meaning in his poetry. Somehow all these movements--all four of them that he does over and over again--are just the natural physicalization to his material. Perhaps the moments of crouching are meant to be intimate, kind of like I suggested previously. Still, though, he did this three times and they last nearly ten seconds each. How much intimacy do you need? Let's not ask him that.
He yells a lot in this one. I mean, he's really loud. The logic behind this is quite simple, though. It's relieving to me sometimes that I can actually figure out Daniel Songer's rationale. This should not be so comforting. He's loud because this is about thunder. I'm really surprised he's not opening and closing his hands and yelling "crackow!" So instead he just yells things that we're supposed to imagine as being loud. "THE THUNDER ROARED" subtext: Thunder is loud. It roars like my voice. Imagine the loudness of the thunder. The subtext to this subtext: Dan doesn't think very highly of his audience. He doesn't expect us to know or be able to imagine thunder roaring, that it's loud, or that we could apropriately imagine being shocked or frightened at this moment. I wonder if he just assumes we're as smart as he is. I don't think he's deliberately being condecending. I think this is just indicative of a larger problem: He's trying to be a one man play.
Content.
The first thing I did was consider the title. Is "Queen of the Thunder" a reference to something? Could this be a Greek god or some similar allusion? No. Why even spend time asking that? I really wanted to believe that maybe Mr. Songer would consider one of the most essential elements to writing poetry: allusions. Oscar Wilde, among many Victorian poets, loved constantly referencing to Greek gods just to show off. Maybe there was more to it. T.S. Eliot is known for his allusions being so damned innocuous that he gave us footnotes. I'm not expecting Dan to be pretentious or anything, but especially when dealing with something weather-related, there's a ton of poetry and lore out there. If you're going to join that large collection of narrative and poetry, you should make some allusion. Don't even mention Thor? That's one even us shlums know, we've seen him in action blockbusters! Alright fine whateverwhocares.
The rhythm is still all wrong and it pisses me off. Not to mention how some of the images don't even make sense.
THE LIGHTNING FLASHED! Then I heard the thunder roar.First, let me explain to you the rhythm within these two lines. They are structured as a couplet: they accompany each other, ending on the same sound. You know, they rhyme. The rhythm is more than just ending with a word that rhymes. Couplets generally need to be the same amount of syllables. Maybe I'm demanding too much poetic knowledge, but if Daniel is going to self-claim the title of poet, he should have at least peripheral knowledge, if not a substantial foundation. This is foundation. He should know how to create some rhythm, damn it! The lightning and the gazing are parallel, basically serving as a set up for the rest of the line. Here, he knocks it out the park: both are four syllables. The second half of the first line is seven syllables. The second half of the second line is eleven. And this is why, if you're wondering, it sounds so awkward when he says "walking through the door." He says it almost as if it should serve as one syllable. That's because it needs to be in order for the poem to maintain any rhythm. And don't even try and defend this as being a nitpick. Especially for spoken-word poetry, which is clearly how this poetry is designed--need I even point out the amount of rhyme-schemes, let alone that he's fucking dancing--rhythm is the most essential in this style. It's lazy. That's all it is. It's lazy. He picks a word that rhymes and that's enough for it to be poetry. After all, what else is poetry? It's shit that rhymes, duh! No wonder he's so good at it, he knows how to make words rhyme!
As I gazed up, the love of my life came walking through the door.
This leads me to my next point, which is how much this image makes no sense. Comparing just this poem to the only other one I've analyzed ("I'm a Statue"), it's clear "door" is a popular vocabulary word. It's a short, simple word, an easy image, and really easy to rhyme with. You know how you thought of writing poems when you were a kid? You would write a line, then you would sit there and start trying to come up with words that rhymed the last word of that line. "Or, door, more, tore, lore, sore, roar, whore, nor, store, poor, pour, pore, adore, etc." Given Dan the Poet Man's lazy vocabulary, you would think he'd be able to use those simple words to create a sensible image. That's the other major thing about poetry: creating images, communicating with images. So imagine seeing lightning flash, hearing the thunder roar. Simple enough. Now you gaze up. Alright, gazing upward. Now the love of your life walks through the door. Where in the hell did she come from? Who is she? Where did that door come from? Are we inside? I thought we were outside? If you go step by step, the final image is completely out of left field. All the images up to that point are outdoor images, gazing up is even an image associated with looking at the sky, especially when, you know, we were just talking about thunder and lightning. The image makes no sense. Before I was outside, clouds were dark and foreboding, rain and wind were whipping by my face; I'm startled by a bright flash of lightning, the thunder that follows, and I look up to the sky, squinting to keep the rain out of them. And then suddenly I'm in that stupid boring room Dan is recording himself in, crouching down like he does every thirty seconds, sort of looking up at the front door of his boring house. Complete deflation. The man has lived such a boring life that even his imagination is boring.
So she shows up, The Queen of the Thunder, right? What happens after that? She says, "I'm the Queen of the Thunder." Then Dan looks at her beauty and his heart and mind wonder. I don't know what they wonder, but whatever. She gave him three wishes, apparently. After hoping she might stay, she immediately is gone because the sun "came shining through the window." It's at this point I realize, even in his poem, he never leaves the house. So, again, by the end of the poem, he is just praying for the love of his life. Though he employs this genius move of calling rain, "tears," and the employs great imagery of "the lightning to fly." Then he yells that he can SEE THE RAIN AND THE BLUE SKY, because yelling also means excitement. Yelling means BE SHOCKED, THIS IS SUDDEN, AND I'M EXCITED, but not all at once. It just depends on what he's yelling. Then the weirdest line hits me.
And on our rainbow we can rejoice.Okay, so rain and blue sky could lead to a rainbow, so I get why he's mentioning it. But why is this where "we" rejoice, specifically Dan and his Queen of the Thunder? Can't he just go outside whenever there's thunder and lightning? Rejoice with her then? And on the rainbow also makes no sense, but I guess suddenly we moved from being in a house to living in a fantasy world where rainbows aren't just reflections. Asking for consistency from Daniel Songer is definitely pushing it, I know.
He then says that she "came to me with love and wishes," even though he never really talked about the wishes. I'm really confused by this wishes thing. I almost want to go on another endless search to try and find some sort of complex allusion. More importantly, if she gives you three wishes, shouldn't we get to the part where you say what your wishes were? Or does she really just leave right after she offers them? In which case, wouldn't you be pissed? Whatever, he also does a weird thing when he says "eternity" where he seems to be reaching higher than he's capable.
What Exactly is Going On?
Once again, there is a dark undertone of lonliness. As I noted, though briefly, the poem actually takes place entirely indoors. This could almost be a childhood fantasy, where you're just lying in bed, or if you're an adult now, sitting in some recliner, and then magically a really hot woman shows up. A magical hot woman just shows up, and recall that though it's never said explicitly, Dan was on his knees. I mean, he's "gazing up" at the door, and he does "stand up so that she could see something she might like." So he wasn't standing up before. You could easily turn this into a poem about how he was busy praying like hell for a hot woman to magically materialize, and then BAM she came walking through the door. It definitely has that element.
It's sadder than the lonely childhood fantasy, though, because even in his imagination, Dan can't keep the woman there long enough to grant him his three wishes. Even in his imagination, after standing up hoping she might find him attractive, she pretty much vanishes before conversation. All he can do, yet again, is "hope and pray" for her to come back. He's so damn passive in these poems. He's always pleading his case for someone to love him, come to him, or come back to him. Part of me wants to dig into marital undertones, like he went through some sort of divorce or horrible break up. Both poems thus far reveal lonliness and a heavily passive approach to love, as if he's either uninterested in putting in the effort or that he's willing to for anyone. The thing about this poem is, though, it has an undertone of abandonment. I'm starting to feel trapped in that room Dan's filiming himself in, as if he spends all his free time there.
...Then again, for all we really know, he might be far more well-adjusted than I am.