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Poetics and Poetry Discussion

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  • Mary Nagy (9/28/2005 12:50:00 PM) Post reply | Read 5 replies Stage

    Okay, I have to say.......(even though I know it sounds really bad) I don't have a clue about Bob Dylan. I must be a horrible person cause I hated to look at him and his voice drove me crazy. I was always amazed that he could be so popular. I almost thought people must consider him a joke. (That's just how I felt when I seen him) . You guys are really making me feel like I missed out on something great.

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    • Mary Nagy (9/29/2005 8:02:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      Thanks to everyone for all the 'Dylan' advice. I have my work cut out for me. Mary

    • Herbert Nehrlich1 (9/28/2005 4:21:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      Great. Mary comes out, so can I. Terribly ignorant about Dillon and still stuck in Aznavour and Piaf times. Also 'where have all the flowers gone', but I am younger than I sing. H

    • Poetry Hound (9/28/2005 2:19:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Actually, I disagree with Andrew. I would not start with the Greatest Hits album. I would start with a very melodic and accessible album: Nashville Skyline. It came out around 1970 and has a very slig ... more

    • Mary Nagy (9/28/2005 1:10:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Thanks for not hanging me! But, I wil ... more

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  • Richard Jackson (9/28/2005 7:27:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    Tap into the sound
    The pedigree sound within
    Show 'em how it's done

    © Richard Jackson 2005

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    • Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler (9/28/2005 10:02:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      with all due respect, Richard, wouldn't your haikus be better posted to the website rather than the forum? you are wholeheartedly welcome to join any of the conversations going on; you can even start ... more

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  • Max Reif (9/28/2005 1:02:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    Now, this is after part 2 of the Scorcese documentary. What struck me the most is what a-for lack of a better word, crucifixion such a world-significant artist suffers at the hands of those he (or in some cases, she) serves-the public, particularly as represented by the Press. I felt Bob was actually amazingly respectful, considering the barrage of questions he was subjected to and their quality. If anyone 'lusts' after fame, well, it's sure no picnic.

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    • Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler (9/28/2005 6:48:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      you're right, Max. fame is no picnic. why, just recently celebrated comedian Dave Chapelle folded under the pressures of fame, smack in the middle of a wildly successful comedy series. Dylan's ... more

    • Michael Shepherd (9/28/2005 4:48:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

      As one who really missed out on the whole Dylan scene, what struck me particularly were two related situations - the being 'in an arena where I was alone ' (maybe not quite true?) where the genuinely ... more

  • Max Reif (9/27/2005 9:55:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    'Poet-killer faces delayed justice' is one of the PH news headlines today. Does that mean someone who killed a poet, or a poet who is a murderer? Anybody know? It's one of those subscription pages I can't get into.

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    • David Nelson Bradsher (9/28/2005 3:04:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      Max, if I remember correctly, it's a poet who murdered somebody, and I'm thinking that he may have even been a serial killer...allegedly, of course. ;)

    • Michael Shepherd (9/28/2005 5:07:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      I' ve made an official complaint to Poemhunter about those 'news headlines' which fail to deliver the news item referred to, but only a sign-up. Why should an Eskimo sign up for the Kerala News? Same ... more

  • Max Reif (9/27/2005 9:00:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    A little more on Bob Dylan:
    I never saw him live until about 6 years ago. He was in a sense a 'pale shadow' of himself, I mean the aura of universality that had made him a voice of millions upon millions of people had faded years before and he was 'just' (?) a relentlessly touring musician/songwriter. The night I saw him in St. Louis, he had no special rapport with the audience. He was very impersonal. I'm not blown away by his recent stuff. The old songs were good, but I felt I got 'him' more on the records I'd listened to than 'live'.
    Sometimes I wonder what it's like, going on for decades after that world-significant aura has faded. Could be a very lonely life.
    Dylan said in an interview once, 'At this age, every day above the ground's a good day.' Anyway, talk amongst yourselves if you like:

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    • Richard George (9/28/2005 5:15:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      Going on for decades after... when I was a student I saw David Gascoyne read his poems. He was a major player (surrealist) in the 30s but wrote no significant poetry after his 30s... and he was in hi ... more

    • Poetry Hound (9/27/2005 10:19:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      I've seen him live a number of times since 1974. Like Miles Davis, he is infamous for not caring about having rapport with the audience, and also like Miles Davis, you never know what you're going to ... more

  • Linda Jenkinson (9/27/2005 8:25:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    hi just the usual...please let me know what you think...i am so happy to have found this place!

  • Linda Jenkinson (9/27/2005 8:14:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    are we supposed to write to autumn?

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    • Poetry Hound (9/27/2005 10:29:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Yes, you figured it out. That's exactly what you're supposed to do. We've all done it already. Why haven't you?

  • Linda Jenkinson (9/27/2005 6:50:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    hi...not sure how this all works...dropped some stuff under my name, , , read some styuff also so i know i belong, , , cant wait to hear, , ,

  • Jerry Hughes (9/27/2005 6:03:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    Greetings, Movers and Shakers, t'would seem the preoccupation with death poems has subsided, however, in it's dying moments (scuse the pun) , I'd like to leave you all with this beautiful poem by Bruce Dawe, truly one of our greats.

    soliloquy for one dead

    Ah, no, Joe, you never knew
    the whole of it, the whistling
    which is only the wind in the chimney's
    smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy
    path that are always somebody else's.
    I think of your limbs down there, softly
    becoming mineral, the life of grasses,
    and the old love of you thrusts the tears
    up into my eyes, with the family aware
    and looking somewhere else.
    Sometimes when summer is over the land,
    when the heat quickens the deaf timbers,
    and birds are thick in the plums again,
    my heart sickens, Joe, calling
    for the water of your voice and the gone
    agony of your nearness. I try hard
    to forget, saying: If God wills,
    it must be so, because of
    His goodness, because-
    but the grasshopper memory leaps
    in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe,
    you never knew the whole of it...

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    • Herbert Nehrlich1 (9/27/2005 9:03:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Thanks Jerry, but I am keeping the spirit of death alive with my latest called The Devil's Cousin. Read it and reap. Best wishes H

  • Michael Shepherd (9/27/2005 5:40:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    I found this one which tells you a lot about Huff and his succession of fast-food jobs: 'One Life'

    One life I’ve lived this time
    is in the back booth of a diner
    or cafe, out of the way, drinking
    coffee, smoking, watching the
    people, writing things down.
    In this life, I could be mute,
    I don’t talk to anyone, I
    just watch and listen and write.
    That’s it. This is one person
    that I’ve been this life, across
    the country, Canada, parts of
    Mexico, observing, recording.
    It’s a life. It’s a way of
    life. It’s a place where I
    feel comfortable: nothing I
    have to say, no one I have to
    relate to. I have had other
    lives this time but none more
    basic. It’s lonely sometimes
    but even the loneliness isn’t
    really uncomfortable: it fits.
    I could wish that some of my
    other lives fitted as well
    but that’s carping. We play
    the hand that’s dealt us and
    hope we leave behind something
    of worth but we don’t know.
    Somewhere in all those lines
    written in all those places
    there may be a line that lasts.
    If not, there was still the
    doing of it, the peace of a
    room where people come to eat
    or drink coffee or talk and
    also, though they’re not aware
    of it, to be watched and
    written down.
    from 'Simple Vows'

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