Poetics and Poetry Discussion


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  • Freshman - 1,291 Points The Pundit (12/16/2014 11:33:00 AM) Post reply | Read 3 replies
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    Well! I must say, somebody took Max to the woodshed didn't they?Nice poem!

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    • Freshman - 1,291 Points The Pundit (12/22/2014 8:51:00 AM) Post reply

      Well, okay then. Merry Christmas. Max too.

    • Freshman - 1,291 Points ... Dog God 8hate (12/22/2014 5:07:00 AM) Post reply

      . . the clumsy menace, couldn't stay on the wall ... it was an inhabitable toil ... rather livid ... the verdure - lost in dowdy disaster And? maybe the Kingdom's united, in its ... more

    • Freshman - 1,291 Points The Pundit (12/16/2014 10:07:00 PM) Post reply

      Well, the'Max' poem is gone. Is that PH or the author?It's a shame there's such weak individuals out there with no sense of humor, and egos like stained glass. I liked that poem. It wasn't great, but ... more

  • Freshman - 1,881 Points Timothy Walters (12/16/2014 1:43:00 AM) Post reply

    Friendship

    When you see your friends smile,
    Can you not help but smile along?
    And when they are feeling down,
    Can you not help but feel down too?
    For friendship is the common ground on which we gel,
    This we know only too well.

  • Freshman - 1,291 Points The Pundit (12/15/2014 6:45:00 PM) Post reply

    Who writes the wackiest posts on the forum?Pranab or Sean North?Sean gets the nod for creativity, but Pranab, with his Beckettian ability to confound, should get his fair share of votes. Merry Christmas to both of them, and their clitoris'! !

  • Veteran Poet - 2,843 Points Pranab K Chakraborty (12/14/2014 12:38:00 AM) Post reply

    Quiet brilliant the codes to apply but so hazy, really undone to get its access.

  • Rookie - 998 Points Gulsher John (12/12/2014 8:16:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Into the Wild

    The sitting sun, wrestling
    with the clouds, and
    kindles the sky
    with pale reds; and snaps
    her glory, loitering in the wild.

    But i see winters in
    her smiles, often synced in tears.
    O, this world is like a belly
    of beast, spouting acid
    into love and peace.

    The time crept by
    slowly, still her innocence
    trances my dreams. And I
    can hear her whisperings endlessly
    walk on the barren moors.

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  • Gold Star - 17,682 Points Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (12/12/2014 8:25:00 AM) Post reply

    Today I read the poem Tree of Joyce Kilmer. Unfortunately I was not so much heard about this great poet who has gone for ever in world war in such an younger age of 31. His biography states. I found his poems so realistic and beautiful in all respects. A great poetic mind.

  • Rookie - 459 Points Cadance Cunningham (12/12/2014 2:02:00 AM) Post reply

    do not be bound by anything. the secret to writing a good poem is that there is no secret

  • Freshman - 1,584 Points Ken E Hall (12/10/2014 1:19:00 AM) Post reply

    Just read a comment on one of my poems looked at the guys page and his comment list...low and behold his comments where the same for other poets poems...he was using copy and paste tactic if he does not change his ways everyone will know his name.

  • Freshman - 1,881 Points Timothy Walters (12/9/2014 9:59:00 PM) Post reply

    Simplicity

    Look upon this world
    With the eyes of a child
    And see everything as it was meant to be

  • Rookie - 613 Points Frank Ovid (12/9/2014 11:46:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    Halfway through the pane of glass,
    still making gaslight eyes at Maud
    Gonne,
    a leer crawled across your face.
    William Butler Yeats looked like he
    was going to cream your skinny
    ass,
    and you were glad Einstein was right
    about the Time-Space continuum
    because now you can bust a beer
    bottle
    over Bill’s noggin. The pub became pell-mell,
    time slowing down like sap inside a frosty
    maple.
    It was 1916 like it’s always been 1916
    with shattering glass twinkled against
    street lamps, Maude’s jacket slightly
    rimpled.
    I guess most times you’ll land over there
    with the dandelions stuck in cracked
    sidewalks trying to tickle your bloody
    nose.

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 613 Points Mandolyn ... (12/15/2014 10:16:00 AM) Post reply

      1916 was a great year i need to go back there sometime in the Spring. i can't decide between that year or 1784.... but whatever has good toast. speaking of toast i'll toast to this wacked out ... more

    • Rookie - 613 Points Bull Hawking (12/10/2014 9:15:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      I like " rimpled" ......anyway.....I placed my dreams under your feat.... g

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