Poetics and Poetry Discussion
(8/20/2014 9:08:00 PM)
her fists were cumulus clouds
attached to slender wrists and
one grabbed my crotch I
blinked into ceiling fan eyes
penny for your thoughts make
that two bartender music man
agitating it like a Maytag washing
machine under there where they
stick the gum I thought of Norman
Bates while Lynyrd Skynyrd did
pushups around my head and
she even did the air guitar move
afterward as sweat bubbled
out onto my clammy forehead
(8/20/2014 2:04:00 PM)
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Abekah, you asked for a critique, so here goes: the poem below is pretty awful. The early lines are vague and pompous statements about big ideas, and the remainder of the poem is shot through with usage errors and sentimentality. I'll give you my usual Dr. Carter prescription for improving your verse: 1) as an ESL poet, write your poems in your first language. Your grasp of English isn't strong enough to allow you to write decent poetry. If you insist on posting poems in English, find a good EFL poet and let him/her translate from your native language work. 2) start reading good contemporary poets in English. That might help. If reading doesn't improve your poems, it will at least keep you too busy to create more bad poems.
All But Dreams
The meaning of life always intrigues me,
Each and everyday, I wonder how
Life can be such a difficult thing
To understand to the brim.
Since the birth of this noble planet earth,
Many wise men have tried to explain it,
Stretching the last nerves of their brains
Many great musicians have sung about it,
Employing the sweetest melodies
Many poets have written about it,
Using the clearest diction in their language,
But it seems, and I believe, to me,
The meaning of life isn't clear enough,
Why do the innocent continues to suffer?
Why do the pauper still goes to bed
when his intestines are crying for bread
While abundant are lying in other homes uncared?
Why do the orphan still feels he is alone
While the earth is pregnant with flesh and bones?
Oh who will tell me?
What in reality life means,
For maybe all that I have seen,
Read or heard since that day I came,
Are nothing but mere dreams and illusions.Replies for this message:
(8/22/2014 4:44:00 AM)
Heaven sake PHerrrss
(8/21/2014 4:34:00 PM)
" ...Stretching the last nerves of their brain...great musicians have sung about it..." Shakespearean. Goes straight to the heart of my ears (to quote a very good poet in his own right) .
(8/21/2014 9:19:00 AM)
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" when his intestines are crying for bread" is good too. A little wacky, but fairly poetic.
(8/21/2014 7:45:00 AM)
I agree on that line. The problem is, ba ... more
(8/20/2014 3:09:00 PM)
" ...the earth is pregnant with fle ... more
- Gulsher John (8/22/2014 4:44:00 AM) Post reply
(8/20/2014 5:52:00 AM)
Dear fellow hunters,
I am back again with a very stunning theme...... Check out my new poem entitled....ALL BUT DREAMS......Please do read it and comment on it.(Dont forget to rate it) I would equally appreciate a more personal criticism from any reader. Best wishes.......................
Nikka Mee Farillon
(8/20/2014 4:31:00 AM)
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The poem of robert frost entitled " the road not taken" inspires me to make up good decisions and choices everyday of my life. So nice. I would appreciate if somebody would love this, too..
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.Replies for this message:
(8/20/2014 9:36:00 PM)
The third stanza is classic. That " trodden black" is the kicker. The whole thing is so lazy (in a good way) and unassuming. Understated. Not showing off.
(8/20/2014 10:29:00 AM)
The poem has often been misinterpreted (mostly by rah-rah high school teachers) as saying don't be a conformist. What it's really implying (see lines below) is that all choices lead to unseen but i ... more
- Professor Plum (8/20/2014 9:36:00 PM) Post reply
Adam M. Snow
(8/19/2014 10:29:00 PM)
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So I refuse to change my style to modern, so sue me.. I prefer the classic styles, that's where I'm more comfortable at and there's nothing wrong with that.
(8/19/2014 4:08:00 PM)
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Prof. Plumb says this is Adam's best poem and Keats would be proud of him. It may be Adam's best poem, but I'd imagine Keats would read it and then run, screaming, for the nearest receptacle to vomit in. Just check out the goofiness of lines 2 (the OBSCURE of night) , (12 (in ways a lamb once lost dare can) ,21 (grant hands?to this lambie) ,20 (and help the ones encage be free) , and, my favorite,28 (all of You and Your loving heap) ! ! Adam, please stop writing and please start reading! ! !
This Lost Lamb
Written by Adam M. Snow
Oh by the morning strike of day
and by the calm obscure of night,
my heart is Yours O God - I pray;
grant this lost lamb Your holy sight.
Give this lost lamb the sight to see,
truth that lies in the love of Thee.
Show me the world in Your own eyes
and make O God, this dumb man wise.
Grant this lost lamb the words to speak,
the Word O God of Yours to man,
the Word of truth for which they seek
in ways a lamb once lost dare can.
Grant this lost lamb an ear to hear,
and hear Your voice so crystal clear.
Speak Ye - O God with words of love,
let this lamb hear Your voice above.
Grant this lost lamb the feet to lead,
so I may guide a crowd to Thee.
Help this lamb O God to succeed,
and help the ones encage be free.
Grant this lost lamb the hands to aid,
and help the fallen and afraid,
and help the lost ones to be found.
Help me guide them to solid ground.
Lead this lost lamb - O God, to Thee;
save this lamb from the sunless deep.
Open my eyes so I could see,
all of You and Your loving heap.
Let this lost lamb be born again,
to live for You - O God, AmenReplies for this message:
(8/19/2014 10:32:00 PM)
Lamont Palmer (8/19/2014 8: 13: 00 PM) Post reply Stage .......Thats his biggest (and I think, insurmountable) flaw. -LP It is really funny to see Palmer criticizing (poor) Adam's work. I thi ... more
(8/19/2014 8:32:00 PM)
I dig some of these lines. 'Your loving heap' is hysterical! Don't take it so seriously Carter. The kid's trying his a*s off.
(8/19/2014 8:13:00 PM)
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I like Adam's sense of rhythm, but he writes like he's never read or been influenced at all by modern poetry. Thats his biggest (and I think, insurmountable) flaw. -LP
- Mike Acker (8/19/2014 10:32:00 PM) Post reply
(8/19/2014 3:00:00 PM)
I'm going to look for the newest books of poetry and about poetry, so we can all discuss fully together. Thanks.
Black On Black Arts
(8/19/2014 8:31:00 AM)
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hi please check out my new poems defining moment and kissing a fool rate and comment I will greatly appreciate the feedback
Pranab K Chakraborty
(8/19/2014 1:01:00 AM)
As soon as I awake, begin a new book to read, open wide and no hesitate to mention that the book is That New Day which recommends my presence every time.
(8/18/2014 8:23:00 PM)
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Poemhumpers, to get the taste of Adam's latest inept stab at poetry (" Bloody Lamb Poo" ;) out of my mouth and to help me forget Dan Reynold's a-little-better-but-still-goofy poem, I'm posting this excellent piece by Danez Smith. Whew-o, I feel a little better already!
Not an Elegy for Mike Brown
I am sick of writing this poem
but bring the boy. his new name
his same old body. ordinary, black
dead thing. bring him & we will mourn
until we forget what we are mourning
& isn’t that what being black is about?
not the joy of it, but the feeling
you get when you are looking
at your child, turn your head,
then, poof, no more child.
that feeling. that’s black.
think: once, a white girl
was kidnapped & that’s the Trojan war.
later, up the block, Troy got shot
& that was Tuesday. are we not worthy
of a city of ash?of 1000 ships
launched because we are missed?
always, something deserves to be burned.
it’s never the right thing now a days.
I demand a war to bring the dead boy back
no matter what his name is this time.
I at least demand a song. a song will do just fine.
look at what the lord has made.
above Missouri, sweet smoke.Replies for this message:
(8/20/2014 12:47:00 PM)
JC, this is truly an excellent poem. It handles the issue at hand in an inspiringly fresh, new way.
(8/19/2014 8:25:00 PM)
Dudes, I'm just glad everyone's responding. It was getting boring around here. I like opinions.
(8/19/2014 8:01:00 PM)
My opinion of this poem is somewhere in between Plum and JC's. Is it a great poem?No. It flirts too much with sentimentality. But its an entertaining read, reminding me of the old free verse style of ... more
(8/19/2014 7:46:00 AM)
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veritably a fine piece... ya it's Not ... more
(8/19/2014 7:36:00 AM)
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A third grader could write a better poem ... more
- Mike Acker (8/20/2014 12:47:00 PM) Post reply