Poetics and Poetry Discussion

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  • Mike Acker (6/21/2014 4:54:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply


    A boy sits at the edge of his abyss.
    Close by, a girl waves, and smiles
    through her darkness. Her tiny feet
    struggle to keep her head afloat.
    He smiles back, expressing his tales and torments.
    Their eyes reflect only in the other's.

    Silent swells sync their souls and hide her face,
    but he waits forever, and she reappears,
    no more and no less than before. She will not
    swim to him, for mermaids no longer roam.
    He can not fly to her, since men do not soar.
    She will sink, as surely as he shall fall.

    Mike Acker

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    • Professor Plum (6/21/2014 5:22:00 PM) Post reply

      There's a lot to like about this poem. A little strange, but that's right down my alley.

  • Paul Butters (6/21/2014 1:57:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Odd. This morning I posted a message (quote actually) promoting constructive criticism. Did I press the wrong button?Or was it censured?Strange. I would assert that constructive criticism is good practice here. Poets need to be praised and supported for all good work but maybe be given some pointers towards improvement. Nuff Said.

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  • Lamint Polmer (6/20/2014 11:04:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Give it up Palmer. You can't hide behind Ovid much longer.

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    • Frank Ovid (6/20/2014 12:08:00 PM) Post reply

      I'm not Palmer. You know who I am. You like my circus poem?I love it! Who writes poems about The Biggie Circus?You know who.

  • Jefferson Carter (6/20/2014 10:36:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Tony, what do you say to someone who thinks his poems aren't any good? You ask him what poets is he reading. The usual (and honest) answer is none though he did read some Shakespeare and Keats in high school but doesn't read any modern or contemporary poets. The you can ask why he wants to write poetry. The usual (and honest) answer has something to do with the cries of his unique soul, the need to express his innermost feelings, the desire to be seen as a " poet, " not necessarily to write good poems. Then you can say stop writing for a year or so and immerse yourself in the best modern poets. Then, if you still have that itch to write poetry, find a good teacher or join a poetry writing group and give it a dedicated shot.

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    • Peter Stavropoulos (6/20/2014 5:00:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

      Jefferson, from your experience are there any drawbacks to stopping writing for a year for a creative artist?Also, if the desire to be a poet doesn't come from a desire to write good poems then why wr ... more

  • Frank Ovid (6/20/2014 10:24:00 AM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    They Traveled With the Biggie Circus

    She was perched on top of an
    eight foot stepladder.

    I fumbled with my wooden
    Clown stilts, wanting more.

    I wasn't wearing my face paint, and
    She wasn't wearing bra.

    We were finally eye to eye under
    The Big Top sobbing each other.

    She asked why I didn't love her.
    I told her it was complicated.

    The lions were snoring as they
    Slept in their cages.

    Roadies smoked cigarettes, and
    Scratched the dirt with sticks.

    She stood up on the top rung of the
    Ladder wanting to fly.

    I made awkward attempts to get
    Closer to her sorrow.

    The crowd became agitated,
    And some even threw fruit.

    It just wasn't going to work out.
    Too many holes in this ground.

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    • Mindy Brown (6/21/2014 9:08:00 AM) Post reply

      Great contrast between the spectacular show that should be love and the ordinary, mundane, seemingly unimportant goings on of life around us. All the beauty and once charming traits he saw in her no l ... more

    • Lamont Palmer (6/20/2014 1:33:00 PM) Post reply

      I like this, the light touch mixed with the poetic. -LP

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  • Bull Hawking (6/20/2014 10:05:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    A quote by Conrad from Heart of Darkness.....posted as a reply:

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    • Bull Hawking (6/20/2014 10:16:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

      " I am trying to tell youna dream-making a vain attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the dream sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment winna tremor ... more

  • Bull Hawking (6/19/2014 11:43:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    To all the poor folks who have suffered through Carter's redundant prescription for learning to write poetry: don't read anything written in the last 50 years....Beckett tried to tell us how much of a mugs game it is. The good stuff is much older...and sooooo much better. If there was a prescription it would involve leaving behind all the voices of parents or teachers....especially Carter...or anyone who has ever influenced you....then listen to birds...to crickets....to water running......forget language....it cannot describe reality anyway....but feel the pulse of life....then tap on a rock with a stick....help a bird with an injured wing.....laugh....look long at the mon when nobody is nearby...become human....but feel your aloneness....sense your mortality....then if some word comes by laugh...or ask it a real question....write that down. Now I never taught junior college....but you will come closer to the real deal this way....


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    • Jefferson Carter (6/20/2014 10:34:00 AM) Post reply

      Bull, yer a stupid sh*t! I encourage the uneducated PH ers who want to write better (or even competent) poetry to read their contemporaries because otherwise they'll sound like they're writing from i ... more

    • Gulsher John (6/20/2014 2:25:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      very true.... but.... but... how can i get your sweet / good feelings of love and tragedy if they aren't painted well, " Abstractions" can help us to a certain level but... we need so ... more

  • Peter Stavropoulos (6/19/2014 8:50:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I’m at home and at ease on a track that I know not,
    And restless and lost on a road that I know” – Henry Lawson

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  • James Timothy Jarrett (6/19/2014 8:25:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Incrementum of Dominatus

    It was relegated to the old root cellar
    Dropped in haste in forgotten storage
    Where dimmest beam of shafted light
    Kept it 'live in yellowed life, weak and twisted
    Root and vine, seeking sickly, striving life
    But now it's out in planted field
    Furrowed in and giving yield
    Vine and bud quickly growing
    Spreading out and surely choking
    All the other crops of life
    Air and water, precious light
    Strangled, starved, beneath the blight
    It feeds upon all below
    In rapid spreading nourished growth
    Soon to cover, spread to all
    Like a weed, all fields will fall
    So grows the tyranny imposed on men
    Carefully planted and watered in

    Just because I know that JC is such a fan of old school

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  • Sherrie Kolb Cassel (6/19/2014 2:02:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Yawn....big stretch....zzzzz....the more things ch- - oh, wait, they haven't!

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