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  • Andrew Konisberg (6/23/2005 8:32:00 AM) Post reply | Read 4 replies Stage

    'Exquisite Corpse No.1'



    (I)

    Who'll jive alive the exquisite corpse of Poetry?
    Poetry hidden upon a sun-soaked blanket
    under an old oak in a park when there was really nowhere
    left to turn once the light shone brightly on all the bridges burned.
    It was there we suddenly found ourselves - each, an island,
    nevermore a part of the main.


    (II)

    Poetry is like being consumed by the feathers and vassal of the sea
    the sea, a cradle of fear for padres without water-wings
    At whose funeral, caterwauling catatonic clerics congregate
    Beneath high arches ancient and austere;
    As from an abattoir knells such cacophonic lamenting:
    'I know that there will never be another ewe.
    A Shepherd's life is lonely, I'm pleased you are relenting.'


    'Know before you lay a final kiss
    the birds I hear will only sing for you.'
    In tepid tones of salient sanctuary
    Where whimsical willows wave welcome wands
    Where streamlets meander and wander through meadow and lea,
    There I lay with my love in my arms all that long summer day
    the earth an altar and we
    the sacrifice of daily bread.


    (III)

    At other times, a God held our thoughts up to the light
    Revelling in the unspoken regret of the prosaic sun when the sad rays in the sad sky
    cried a river of blood,
    as time ticked by to the faltering beat of a dying heart
    ….beat of a dying heart
    the torn-up crab that hangs on
    to life on my palm.

    .
    (IV)

    My heart’s defeat, a shadow-beat of what it was before,
    Still stirred a pulse of faint results within the shredded core—
    A Lazarus-hope outlined a center of the circle
    A circle of stormy emotional arguments, cruel recriminations
    Ever thunderously repeating and keeping me in prison-like unhappiness.


    abandoned by music, rainbows, comfort of dreams,
    my soul whimpering to be set free.
    I am not just another failed zygomatic bone
    This forced paparazzi smile is not the real me
    Behind this ever jubilant facade, is a vulnerable child with tears in her heart.


    (V)

    My mortality is dancing on the stage of middle summer and I wonder
    how long will it be til I greet autumn leaves and welcome winter slumber
    My body from which thoughts are being tapped
    like rubber, is a condom where I’m trapped
    prophylactic zoning, filaments apt
    conspiring desiring over drive
    you know they will call this buried alive


    (VI)

    And yet, our seasons;
    mine of autumn brown,
    yours of summer gold
    blend perfectly…
    beneath a midnight sun.


    To an outsider the sun
    is but another faint star
    bouncing in his indigo sky
    burning, dying, exploding again
    with new life, new fortune,

    same low prices.

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  • Michael Shepherd (6/22/2005 1:36:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    I can't bear to do a rewrite, but I did also mention Lee Li-Young as a fine example of a poet who can write two pages (in 'Cleaver') of carefully-written 'prosey' intoduction, through which the emotional ground of the poem slowly breaks the surface to make the 'poetic intention' apparent... and this also in the shorter poems. I wouldn't give up one for the other.

  • Lamont Palmer (6/22/2005 12:41:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    So Jefferson, what was your problem with Max Reif's poetry? It was your utter dismissive attitude toward his work that started this debate. On one hand you defend prosey poetry, yet you attack another poets work who is as prosey as you are. Somewhere Sally Field is jealous of your Sybill-like performance. (smile)

  • Andrew Konisberg (6/22/2005 12:08:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    I don't want to get too involved in the debate...Lamont, Jefferson, Michael...but I am, as you know, a bit troubled by a rather 'brick wall' distinction between poetry and prose. I have only read a couple of Bruce's pieces but I think there is room for all kinds of poetry on the site (I'm aware that nobody suggested a contrary view to that) ...and in the 'real' poetry world, all kinds of poetry is accepted whether it is more prose-like (in terms of its feel...I mean, prose can be very poetic and have lots of internal rhythm, something that is often overlooked) ...poetry can appear to be whimsical and there be a lot going on beneath the surface...giving the impression of whimsical prose when there is, in fact, a clever eye behind the typewriter...

  • Michael Shepherd (6/21/2005 2:14:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Yo bruvs, tookalooka him Grandmaster Flash, yeah? thass one cool dude, read him Da Message, ri'? i'm sayin', sem-in-al rap, knowwhaameanmaan? an Them Jeans now thass sassy yeah? bu' big Black Caddy now thass sumpn else maan, one lo-o-o-ng ex-ten-ded met-a-phor honky-speak-like...thassome wri-tah yeah?

  • Michael Shepherd (6/20/2005 5:11:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    Guys, one of you messaged me about studying philosopher-economist Mandeville and.....Hobbes was it? a day back and I've wiped it. Was it you, Andy? Now Mandeville (who's seldom mentioned these days) is my urgent research figure, would you believe. Help please. How did he fit in the story for you? I've got my version, but secondary sources vary.

    Funnily enough, I was going to suggest you looked at Max Reif...

    Replies for this message:
    • Andrew Konisberg (6/20/2005 6:45:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      it was me, Michael. I also researched Adam Smith for a few months but not Hobbes. I told you that I did a little study of European economics between 1500-1800. I'll send you a lengthy e-mail in the ne ... more

  • Michael Shepherd (6/20/2005 8:43:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    A propos 'word-music', euphony, whatever, Hilaire Belloc's poem which is poemhunter's current day-star, could almost be a Gilbert & Sullivan lyric in say, The Mikado?

  • Andrew Konisberg (6/20/2005 6:45:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    The 'exquisite corpse' is on-schedule (!) and will be 'exhumed' and ready for critical dissection on 6/23/2005.

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  • Laura Cummings (6/20/2005 5:19:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    where is the line between poetry that has musical beauty.... and a poem that sounds to much like a song? I dont wanna read my stuff and then think 'woah, way to Linkin Park' :)

    Replies for this message:
    • Michael Shepherd (6/20/2005 7:01:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

      Laura, I'd go along with Andy there. In olden times, when I was a lad (note the Lamont-approved 'music' in that phrase...) there was a term of approval applied to poetry - 'euphony', meaning 'sounds ... more

    • Andrew Konisberg (6/20/2005 5:41:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      I think that most 'musical poetry' does not work well with music...the words don't work as music. Of course, you can put any words to music and in the case of Leonard Cohen (for example) it is a clos ... more

  • shehla carol (6/19/2005 1:55:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    i read maxim gorky's 'My Apprenticeship, My Universities'.has anyone heard about it? i want to discuss about this book.

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