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Poetics and Poetry Discussion

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  • Sherrie Kolb Cassel (4/2/2014 10:13:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    I read this poem this morning, and it really inspired me...I like the language, its flow, its imagery....and it is a " translation" - I always wonder about how much gets lost in the translation process, how close does the translator get to the actual intent of the writer. This poem was also spaced in a very unique manner on the page, which I'm sad to say, the formatting is not doable on the forum pages. I hope you enjoy it.


    from the wave, the way

    By Valerie Mejer
    Translated By Forrest Gander

    In green water I saw your eye and in it I saw that Arabian palace
    filled with birds and broken glass.

    I copy an address into my right hand
    and fill myself with memories of psalms.
    A green fish emerges from seaweed as seaweed from a wave
    that rises like the wailing wall.

    My sun-baked body at the edge,
    wind in my lungs, its whistle,
    my torn world, my grief,
    my soggy passport, my shell with no pearl,
    you lift them, delicate cloud, into a liquid world.

    Last night I dreamed of my father's flabby body and of my blue
    resolve to run away, to find a way, I dreamed of your eye
    and for an instant I found the vertex of the road,
    the imaginary line that falls across the earth:
    that meridian where the sun on a tiger's back meets the shade at its belly.
    Waking up, we are swallowed by wakefulness.

    The house swallows us in its terrible thirst. The routine of taking our children
    to school swallows us
    and so does the if only I could.

    There was something to that dream. You know it. A direction. A way.
    A forest as green as you and your roots.
    Give me your premonitions, give me your book, give me your prodigious memory,
    give me the blue gaze from your dark eye, give me the devotion of your sleeping birds.

    Sometimes the way is a fire
    through which the circus tiger
    leaps, a perfect circle
    returning to me with its stripes intact
    and with the endless continuity of this ineluctably feral world.

    Replies for this message:
    • delilah contrapunctal (4/4/2014 6:36:00 PM) Post reply

      Lovely and intriguing work, indeed...thanks, Sherrie

    • John Kay (4/2/2014 8:50:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Hey Sherrie- the poem is good to me, and I was most pleasantly surprised by the last stanza/image. Some of us are born with the right words and ready for the the first race. Others spend a lifetime or ... more

  • Colin Jeffery (4/2/2014 9:45:00 AM) Post reply

    Dear friends,


    My ebook of seventy poems ‘ The Agony and the Ecstasy’ is now available from the kindle store on Amazon. I hope you will support me and get a copy and tell your family and friends, and perhaps review the collection. All the poems have been published in magazines. I now have six ebooks on kindle. If you want to find them: Go to ‘ Amazon.’ - - on the webepage you will see ‘ALL.’ Click on the little pointer to the right to lower menu - - click on ‘ Kindle Store’ type ‘Colin Jeffery’ into search panel. Press go. My books will appear.
    Thank you for you kind interest for which I am most grateful.


    Colin Ian Jeffery

  • Jim Hogg (4/2/2014 4:37:00 AM) Post reply | Read 5 replies

    What anuseous (inspired by Delilah) muppets these current personas are. How about some nauseous muppetry from a real virtual member.. Angie's challenge is a bit of a tall order for me... a real person has to know his limitations... a muppet persona, it seems, can just ignore them.. But I've taken a shot at it.... Jefferson's effort, I have to say was very impressive, and will be very difficult for even the best of the modern stylists on here to beat...... I think the old fox gets better with age... As a reply, some thoughts on John Martin's Bridge over Chaos:

    Replies for this message:
    • Jim Hogg (4/2/2014 12:14:00 PM) Post reply

      A little bit of excision later... I know where this kind of whittling leads: to a title and nothing underneath.. but John Martin’s Bridge over Chaos See the juggler on the high street (he has ... more

    • Jefferson Carter (4/2/2014 11:11:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Jim, I like this quite a bit. I'd excise some of that over-writing (tilting in the tempting winds) but nice poem. Thanks. The Old Fox

    • Jim Hogg (4/2/2014 10:53:00 AM) Post reply

      Sherrie and Angie.... such generosity.......

    • Sherrie Kolb Cassel (4/2/2014 9:54:00 AM) Post reply

      Jim: This is just striking, as is the pa ... more

    • Jim Hogg (4/2/2014 4:37:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      John Martin’s Bridge over Chaos See t ... more

  • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/1/2014 11:48:00 PM) Post reply

    I don't believe I have received a response to my question below!

    This is from Mr. Acker's post from below. I could not find this poem on your site Mr. Palmer. You didn't actually write the lines he is quoting, did you?

    Allan Prell's Voice

    An audience of listeners is
    Held like love.
    A liberal sun enters daily
    Into the room of your life, in the car

    Lay like roadkill at the entrance of ears.
    (I loved the way he screamed Baltimore;

    Touched airwaves and subsisted on them,

    Driving his tongue from city to city.
    Lamont Palmer

    An audience is held like love?
    Into the room of your life?
    Like roadkill at the entrance of ears?(This is the worst one I think!)

  • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/1/2014 11:46:00 PM) Post reply

    I was asked by two members to re-post. They were so intrigued I was given a list of others to analyze. Of course trolls, those hiding behind a persona(such as Frank Ovid=Lamont Palmer and Stan Grossman=Scot Dog or Scotty Doggy or Frank Ovid's li'l b$ tc h or Lamont Palmer's.... well you get the idea) are much more difficult to analyze. I have asked my German colleague Dr. Dr. Herman Hermanlungen(yes,2 PHds) to assist me in this most challenging analysis yet. I will have Herman join us soon as himself.

    Based on Sherry's posts, I will venture to guess that she had a strict religious upbringing. Either she was raised by strict Jehovah's witnesses or possibly raised in a strict Catholic home. There is every indication that she experienced abuse of some sort, either as a witness to physical and other abuse or even as a victim. What that develops is a love hate relationship with the mother. The mother is seen as both an enabler of the abuse by the father while at the same time there is pity for the mother as a victim. Often mothers who are extremely religious will even deny the abuse or the depth of the abuse.

    All this helps explain the " rough" exterior and the constant need to be in control. Sadly, women with this type of upbringing are more likely to marry pedophiles and alcoholics. They are also twice as likely to enter into abusive relationships in spite of the fact that that is what they would tolerate the least. The relationship with Danny Reynolds says quite a bit about Sherry's personality. From what I read of her exchanges with him, there was a lot of baiting by her, which of course seems to have always triggered a reaction from Danny. This feeling of control actually produces a sense of euphoria on Sherry's part. It is not enough to experience one or two reactions, rather her pleasure is derived from the feeling of control of a male who has in some way or another " hurt" her. This pain turns her anger into rage, but due to the dynamics of a forum, she must use her intellect to inflict maximum revenge and the longer term the more enjoyable.

    I wish to thank the two forum members who have asked that I conduct this study. The two characters, Sherry and Lamont, exhibit, in my opinion, signs of borderline personality disorder and as such make ideal candidates. I see this as a challenge and will move on to Lamont Palmer the next discussion.

  • Mike Acker (4/1/2014 10:34:00 PM) Post reply

    Trillions

    At last count there are
    thirty seven trillion cells.
    It's me against them.

    Mike Acker
    Senryu(could be a Haiku)

  • Frank Ovid (4/1/2014 9:39:00 PM) Post reply

    His poems are very rhythmic too.

  • Stan Grossman (4/1/2014 9:36:00 PM) Post reply

    Carter's like Moses. The Charlton Heston one. Jeeez, the guy speaks and no one has the guts to say anything. I could see Carter parting the Red Sea. Kick you some troll a*s!

  • Atheanga Tiomaint (4/1/2014 12:39:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Response to a mmember:

    Believe it or not, both Sherry and Lamont fit the profiles of what is now referred to as cyber bullies. The U.S. and Canada are both preparing new legislation to combat this new type of harassment and stalking. Many studies are under way to help define what constitutes cyber bullying and how to recognize it. Most cyber bullies exhibit similar patterns in how they express themselves on forums.

    It has been a very interesting exercise for me as the two subjects, Sherry Kolb and Lamont Palmer are so deliciously " disturbed" .

    Replies for this message:
  • Sherrie Kolb Cassel (4/1/2014 9:04:00 AM) Post reply

    Good morning, All! Poetry and coffee, a great way to start the day! Have an awesome one.

    Night Feeding

    By Muriel Rukeyser

    Deeper than sleep but not so deep as death
    I lay there dreaming and my magic head
    remembered and forgot. On first cry I
    remembered and forgot and did believe.
    I knew love and I knew evil:
    woke to the burning song and the tree burning blind,
    despair of our days and the calm milk-giver who
    knows sleep, knows growth, the sex of fire and grass,
    renewal of all waters and the time of the stars
    and the black snake with gold bones.
    Black sleeps, gold burns; on second cry I woke
    fully and gave to feed and fed on feeding.
    Gold seed, green pain, my wizards in the earth
    walked through the house, black in the morning dark.
    Shadows grew in my veins, my bright belief,
    my head of dreams deeper than night and sleep.
    Voices of all black animals crying to drink,
    cries of all birth arise, simple as we,
    found in the leaves, in clouds and dark, in dream,
    deep as this hour, ready again to sleep.

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