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Poetics and Poetry Discussion

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  • Mike Acker (4/5/2014 12:13:00 PM) Post reply

    Deafening Silence

    It began suddenly, deep
    inside my ears. First,
    an inaudible whisper.
    Then, an atom here,
    a molecule there, a cell,
    people, nine billion human beings
    all looking, all searching
    in a ghastly hush.

    It wouldn't stop getting louder,
    this soundless, aching,
    unanswered, unanswerable inquiry.
    My earth, I sense joins in
    then, our planets, one by one.
    Before long, the piercing silence
    of a scream straight
    from the heart of a galaxy.

    All wailing mutely, their doubts,
    and fears in this blind, mad,
    void universe.

    Mike Acker

  • Sherrie Kolb Cassel (4/5/2014 9:29:00 AM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    Regardless of many things, a great poem is a great poem. " 180 Second Freefall" - is such a poem. I appreciate its existential tone and it is percussive as a heartbeat. Very nice, indeed.

    Like Velveeta, I will work on mine as soon as I can get to it. Angie, can't wait to read yours (both of them - once the boxes are unpacked) .

    Replies for this message:
    • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/5/2014 12:42:00 PM) Post reply

      Regardless of many things, a great poem is a great poem! That is a brilliant insight, Sherry. My mistake is thinking about somethings, but never thought of thinking of many things. You have broaden ... more

    • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/5/2014 11:43:00 AM) Post reply

      WoooooooWwww! I think it is even awsomer! Are we going for ice cream, ladies? I can't wait either. This is soooooooo exciting! ! !

    • Sherrie Kolb Cassel (4/5/2014 10:13:00 AM) Post reply

      That's awesome, Velveeta! Grandchildren are truly a special gift. I'm on my way to visit family, but when I return....chaos shall be my Muse. Thanks dudes/dudettes for the hits to my blog. 41 from ... more

  • Dan Reynolds (4/5/2014 7:25:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    5 years ago, when I was posting as " Y.U.Lai" , Jim and I both had an instant reaction to a poem which Lamont posted. I think this transcript is fitting, with regards to recent threads here. (The ekphratic theme, the " Chaos/apathy and the good doctor's enquiry as to my writings without rhymes. Hopefully, this recap addresses all points.

    metamorphhh (aka jim crawford) Male,59, Antarctica (7/9/2009 1: 07: 00 PM)
    (This massage was posted as a reply to that message)

    A little earlier today, Lamont posted a Mark Strand poem (see below) . Both Y.U. Lai and myself were inspired by it to write pieces of our own. Y.U. and I were discussing this in the background a little bit, and I found something he said particularly interesting, which I’d like to post here (Y.U., I hope I’m not stepping out of bounds here. If so, my apologies) ...

    “Jim. I kid you not.3 minutes in the construction, with a 5 minute interruption. That piece Lamont posted just set me off, and i couldn't stop. I wrote it to be spoken, with little or no regard for the content, other than to let the instincts guide the flow.”

    Here is the piece. I found it to be remarkable...

    180 Second Freefall

    Somewhere in the debris, hid
    beneath the poet’s workshop
    post-its, napkins, bus tickets
    are jockeying for position.

    Somewhere in the middle ground
    between the ink and sweat stains
    an idle thought is floating on
    the jetsam of the day

    somewhere in the subterfuge
    of someone’s idle tryst
    a motion that was carried falls
    across the starting line

    somewhere in vacuity
    confusion coaches chaos
    and maelstroms of Minerva’s hair
    are lashing sun- bleached skin

    somewhere in a psyche
    of a weeping villanelle
    a poet lays his pen down soft
    to bid one last farewell.

    Y. U. Lai

    Now my piece. Less remarkable, surely, but my interest lies in how emotions engendered by a particular piece can manifest themselves so differently in different writers.

    The Last Men

    Icebound, savage,
    waving tattered remnants of national identity,
    hunkered in their bunkers,
    monkey division army men
    playing Anarchy by Milton Bradley
    until somebody steals the dice,
    then howling for the National Guard
    when their compatriots aren’t looking.

    Just imagine Gilligan’s Island
    without the Professor.
    Who’s first on the spit?
    Or, with the last vestiges of
    civilization left to them,
    hand in hand,
    walking into the lagoon,
    the geographically misplaced chimps
    and screaming pihas
    bidding them a fond farewell.

    Or a comet!
    Maybe Robert Frost was wrong.

    I realize not all poetry is written in such an emotionally generated, spontaneous fashion. Still, there’s this feeling of magic when it happens, and speaks volumes, IMO, regarding the emotional aspects and power of poetry. The words almost seem to come of themselves; like Y.U. relates “...with little or no regard for the content, other than to let the instincts guide the flow.” It’s very cool!

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    metamorphhh (aka jim crawford) (7/9/2009 1: 22: 00 PM) Post reply
    Y.U., I just can't get over how perfect 'Freefall' is. It sort of feels like a sonnet, and the flow is remarkably even throughout. It goes down like a Long Island Iced Tea. I'll be reading this one over and over all day, I'm afraid :)

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  • Gulsher John (4/5/2014 4:40:00 AM) Post reply

    Vere homo*

    Be human, not a divine
    living life is not a prize,

    the world is for you, and
    Nature is your only allies

    what intoxicate our minds, are
    the stories of doom and demise

    so with these false theologies
    let's unbind our trade and ties.

    In search of god(s)
    don't stare at the skies

    just intuit for awhile, and
    soothe your fellows' cries.
    .......................
    * truly man

  • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/4/2014 10:38:00 PM) Post reply | Read 4 replies

    OK, please understand that for Dr. Dr. Hermanlungen and I to keep entertaining, we must be fed. Anything will do. A chuckle or even a wink will do. Anything please. We know Simple Blue Bird is everywhere all the time, flying from branch to branch making sure no one is tempted. We also understand that her advice is wise. She feels that if you were to ignore us long enough we would go away. We have nowhere to go. So we have what is called a dilemma or a Mexican standoff. We need to be fed and yet we cannot leave. You might as well feed us. It is the logical thing to do. We have been told that the infamous Mr. Palmer has asked to be tied up and gagged, as he knew he could not resist the temptation to make a complete fool of himself. He knew that little birdies cannot save his a\4|$$ all the time. We are laughing very hard thinking about Mr. Palmer struggling to free himself of the constraints, run to a keyboard and lose no time in making a complete f00l of himself.

    Anything, a chuckle, a wink, winkies...anything

    Replies for this message:
    • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/5/2014 5:33:00 PM) Post reply

      You will definitely enjoy the show, Gulsher!

    • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/5/2014 3:13:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Work hard at writing and get yourself out of OK. The last thing you want to become is another one of these squawking birds doing nothing more than laying empty eggs. They talk and act like the stupi ... more

    • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/5/2014 11:24:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Thank you, Gulsher. Every bit helps. Go against the grain, against the flow, be different...buy a mac! They are all a bunch of boring poet wannabes. Some are OK, others are OK and some are just OK. Ho ... more

    • Gulsher John (4/5/2014 4:38:00 AM) Post reply

      i am desperately waiting to see the melo ... more

  • Sherrie Kolb Cassel (4/4/2014 3:20:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Awesome to see a second " chaos" poem! ! Will work on mine in the next few hours.

    Replies for this message:
    • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/4/2014 10:02:00 PM) Post reply

      We can hardly wait to read what you have written. Don't make us wait too long! Maybe we will all go for ice cream, later. Yes, that would be a thrill!

  • Dan Reynolds (4/4/2014 7:14:00 AM) Post reply | Read 5 replies

    Chaos: A condition or place of great disorder or confusion.
    Sounds like PH to me.

    What do we think of “chaos”, on the whole?
    What visions come to mind when first we muse?
    Will jazz and fusion outdo pop and soul,
    while folklore seals the structure of the blues?

    Can what was there before the now, be clear?
    Can random work in tandem with the known?
    Can seconds, somewhere else be like a year
    and cartilage converted into bone?

    If every atom takes another path
    from that which had been written on “that day”,
    we may all find we’re due an early bath.
    (As ”Physic”’s laws and rules all fade away.)

    Yes, “Chaos” our creator should have seen
    that Sheldon from “The Big Bang”’s just a poor man’s Mr Bean.

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  • delilah contrapunctal (4/3/2014 10:01:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    from torpor to salacious observation after Manet's " Girl With Her Plum" ......



    If conveyed mouthward her drupe would surely drip

    does she brood, unstooped, undrooped, contemplating a variety of juices...their scents, viscousnesses



    ekphrasticallity could produce a damnable plethoracic flood..I'm stopping with this one....

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    • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/4/2014 10:22:00 PM) Post reply

      Mr. Grossman, I have asked you how you feel about members on this forum referring to you as Lamont Palmer's, sorry I mean " Delilah's" female dog(this will take about 15 minutes to explain t ... more

    • delilah contrapunctal (4/3/2014 10:37:00 PM) Post reply

      ......" essentially a flat surface with colors (or letters) assembled in a certain order....."

    • Stan Grossman (4/3/2014 10:33:00 PM) Post reply

      Beautiful! Intriguing. Are you single and in the greater Boston area?

  • Gulsher John (4/3/2014 9:37:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    Stan 'man...
    . es increíble la forma de crear imágenes y jugar con las palabras...
    como si

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    • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/5/2014 3:24:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Mr. Gulsher, just for the sake of clarification and transparency, Mr. Grossman is no other than Scotty Dogg, who according to our research is what is referred to on the streets as Mr. Lamont Palmer's ... more

    • Stan Grossman (4/3/2014 10:31:00 PM) Post reply

      Rock on, Gulsher!

  • Mike Acker (4/3/2014 2:55:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Change

    When the soaring creatures came, in all
    their splendor, I used to load up my needs
    and thoughts, and begin to stack, and shift
    around what should never be taken along.

    Now, I just grab what I can of these indigo feathers,
    and hold on for dear life. I simply soar on the backs
    of these magnificent birds and let the rest of what
    must be made, make itself.

    Mike Acker

    (made some changes but kept even the j@ck@ss Stick Two's comment)
    Replies for this message:
    Jim Hogg (4/3/2014 2: 37: 00 PM) Post reply
    Sounds like a good formula Mike...
    Stick Two (4/3/2014 1: 40: 00 PM) Post reply
    troglodyta

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