Treasure Island

Poetics and Poetry Discussion

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  • Dan Reynolds (5/23/2014 6:59:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies Stage

    If you could find a piece of this earth, so blessed with its people, landscape and laws, content with its own individuality, to such a degree, that it would willingly let all else drift into obscurity.... to abandon contact with the trading mentality of many nations, (regardless of the possible failure of OUR own CRUCIAL crop) . to rely on the faith of the fingers, rather than the fingers of faith.... and to live in true tolerance of our mutual failings and failure to forgive....would you even consider such a tenancy as attainable?
    As we grow more and more out of and away from our conditioning, we grow more into our personal desires. These desires may well be attributed to and influenced by our upbringing and environmental surroundings, the best of people, they/we will wish to do no harm (without a little humour) .

    If you could find a place like this....would you leave the place that could be like that?

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    • Bull Hawking (5/25/2014 8:44:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      Dan....such a place did exist....if only in the story of Voltaire.....called Eldorado....Candide and his servant left because he wanted to find his true love Cunegonde again.....and....u ... more

    • delilah contrapunctal (5/24/2014 5:05:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      We must, I believe, do what we can to discover such a place inside ourselves....and give of it that which we are able to others...indeed with humor, whenever possible.....good job for, I know...poets. ... more

    • Frank Ovid (5/23/2014 9:18:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      We're talking nudist colony, right?Count me in.

  • Gulsher John (5/23/2014 1:56:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    What Is Poetry ________John Ashbery

    The medieval town, with frieze
    Of boy scouts from Nagoya?The snow
    That came when we wanted it to snow?
    Beautiful images?Trying to avoid

    Ideas, as in this poem?But we
    Go back to them as to a wife, leaving

    The mistress we desire?Now they
    Will have to believe it

    As we believed it. In school
    All the thought got combed out:

    What was left was like a field.
    Shut your eyes, and you can feel it for miles around.

    Now open them on a thin vertical path.
    It might give us- what?- some flowers soon?

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  • Jefferson Carter (5/23/2014 1:42:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    Adam, I'm sorry about your dad.

    What's irrelevant to a poem's quality, its artfulness, is its biographical background or its author's emotional state. When I read a poem, all I have (and all I really should need) is the poem itself, its diction, its sound, its effect on me. I do sympathize with your loss. The poem still stinks to high heaven, but that's a different matter.

    Perhaps you should separate poetry as art from poetry as therapy for the self. Thy have little to do with each other.

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  • Adam M. Snow (5/23/2014 11:23:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    @ Jefferson Carter
    Maybe you should think before you speak. This poem was written about my father whom I lost to cancer in 2009. I wrote this while I was reminiscing about the past, when he was still alive. It's getting close to my birthday and I couldn't help but think of him.

  • Adam M. Snow (5/22/2014 11:42:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    I finished that poem. What do you think?

    My Memory
    Written by Adam M. Snow

    Stay inside my memory,
    leave me not alone
    to fall from you into reality,
    mourning the fragrance of your soul.
    Like the joy of children's laughter,
    peace it brings and ease my soul.
    A memory of eternal joy of you,
    brings me from my deep despair.
    Leave me not alone,
    stay inside my memory.
    Stuck within a picture show;
    forever repeating, never ending.
    Mourning the fragrance of your soul,
    a treasured vision I hold dear.
    Wishing you was somehow here;
    a joyous feeling, full of sadness,
    the feeling of missing you.
    Holding dear this picture show,
    mourning the fragrance of your soul.
    Wishing you would return to me,
    stay inside my memory.
    Never leave me. Never leave me.

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    • N P. (5/23/2014 2:02:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Adam, As a reader, I feel a bit disconnected from the poem. There are some goodlines in here. I like the idea of a repeating picture show image - maybe that aspect could be expanded upon - get a ... more

    • Jefferson Carter (5/23/2014 9:56:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      Adam, you've outdone yourself! This is a memorably bad poem! I think yer fooling with your readers, pretending you think the poem is good and knowing it's awful; this way you ridicule gullible read ... more

  • Mike Acker (5/22/2014 10:19:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    The Shelter as reply...

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    • Mike Acker (5/22/2014 10:19:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      The Shelter Sliced and diced, shredded and chopped, fried brains and sauteed thoughts, mixed with the biting vinegar of foul abuse. The kind that strikes fear, and sows perfect demons, ... more

  • Adam M. Snow (5/22/2014 3:12:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    I'm working on another poem, this is what I got so far. What do you think?

    Stay inside my memory
    Leave me not alone
    To fall from you into reality
    Mourning the fragrance of your soul

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    • Alexander Rizzo (5/23/2014 9:53:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      you know, there are hollywwod directors who admire silent films, but they don't make them because they're....out of fashion, and filmmaking has long since moved on. just a hint, sir

    • N P. (5/22/2014 10:14:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Perhaps add some concrete imagery. The next stanza could go into a simile. -Nick

  • Sherrie Kolb Cassel (5/22/2014 10:41:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    Good morning from hazy, May gray California. I was reading poetry out on the patio with my steaming hot cup of dark roast coffee....enjoying the pre-summer coolness...and I found this poem...IMO, fun, fun, fun....enjoy... or don't...wishing you all a most excellent day:

    The pregnancy of words

    By Bob Hicok b.1960

    Eros scrabbles to rose and rage
    to gear or gare, as in Gare du Nord,
    where I trained in to Paris from not
    smoking pot in Master Mad, I’m sorry,
    Amsterdam, with its canals
    called grachts and clocks
    that bonged my homesick hours
    at different times. Which is smite
    for you violet types, a flower
    that says “love it” if you listen. Me, I do
    and don’t feel it matters that evil thrives
    in live, that we tinker and smash
    everything down to bits and then
    try to patch a path back home, it’s our lotto
    in life, to have no clue
    what a natural disaster is
    when that disaster is us. That’s what I love
    about the shrug, it says zilch
    sans le mouth and becomes
    more aerobic the more you admit
    the less you know, you know?It’s a jumble
    out there, kids, with slips and slides
    and elide’s eally ool, depending
    what’s lopped off, as in light of ??hand
    or slight of and, but I better spot
    before you pots how sparse
    this parsing is. Besides, what can I say
    about language other than it’s an anal egg
    in need of one glorious u. Words
    or sword?—?pick your poisson. Every time
    I try to peak into speaking, the bag
    of gab to learn what our noodles
    are really up to, I get flummoxed
    that the tools I use
    are the stool I stand on
    to see a way in or out. I can’t even tell
    if? I’m more trapped or rapt,
    if meaning’s mean or play’s
    a dumb waiter riding numbly
    up and down. But have you noticed
    read becomes dear
    if you ignore the world
    as you find it and find it in you
    to swirl the word, in the way
    solve and loves are the same
    bones, different skeletons.

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  • Gulsher John (5/22/2014 8:53:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    An idea or suggestion:
    let's create a list or Glossary where Abstractions(poet's feeling, emotions etc) gets pictured
    i.e. where one paints images rather than writes.

    note: JC would help generously this " list" as He is the sole authority on the subject on PH

    (sad) should phrase as Dusk or darkness
    (joy) may take the form of blooming rose, morning dew, child smile etc

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    • Jefferson Carter (5/23/2014 10:02:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      No way to post such a list, and, in fact, though contrary to the common advice given to beginning poets (show, don't tell) , abstractions can be powerful if used with originality (see John Ashbery's w ... more

  • Gulsher John (5/21/2014 9:49:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    Jefferson Carter comments (5/20/2014 9: 36: 00 PM)
    B, the only way readers can identify emotionally and personally with your poems is to use " figures of speech (images, metaphors, similes) that engage them in seeing and feeling.
    Using an abstract word like " sad" only tells the reader what you're feeling; it doesn't make the reader experience the sadness."

    SIMPLE & amazing but difficult to handle.
    love ti

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