Ange's Cool Link of the Day

[Guest]

Insult generator

I checked that insult generator. While I would love to use it on Rybka, I believe it might possibly be overstepping a few boundaries (which means it's pretty strong). Although, this isn't to say I wasn't tempted
--Xtaabay

 

[Bill in Cincy]

Re: Don't Like Jazz?

You're not listening to the right stuff then. Try these sound samples at Jerry Jazz Musician.

Lester Young

Bud Powell

Billie Holiday

Charlie Parker

I could go on. These are but a very few examples of the best jazz has to offer. This is, trust me, jazz that is as heartfelt and serious as it gets.

Try Coltrane -- A Love Supreme

Monk -- Straight, No Chaser

Miles -- Kind of Blue

3 of the best ever ....

 

[Bill in Cincy]

Kevin Young

Have you read "Jelly Roll," book of "blues poems" by Kevin Young ... one of the best young voices out there ... try it

 

[Angeline]

Have you read "Jelly Roll," book of "blues poems" by Kevin Young ... one of the best young voices out there ... try it

I have not, but I sure will! Thank you for the lead!

Have you read No Eyes? It's a book-length poem about Lester Young by David Meltzer. Wonderful stuff. Here's a short excerpt.


if exhaustion were an ocean
I'd dive in head first
& forget how to swim

down to the deepest deep
creep along bottom's bottom
& sleep w/out dreaming

turn blue in salt cold
shrink old prune gray
water filled folds pop open
on sunny days

no more sweet or sour
just hour after hour of no time
is nobody's time w/ nobody around
if misery were the sea
& blues were the sky
I'd still sink and fly.

I'm very interested in jazz/blues poetry myself. Here are links to a few I've written.

Copacetic Persuasion

Lady's Blues in Winter

What Basie Knew

I know some other jazz poetry resources if you're interested. Let me know if you are.

 

[Bill in Cincy]

Kevin Young

Loved your poetry! And thanks for the Lester Young lead ... I will definitely check it out.

Three poems from Kevin Young's "Jelly Roll":

CAKEWALK

Baby, you make
me want

to burn up all
my pies

to give over
an apple to fire

or loose track
of time & send

a large pecan
smokeward, or

sink some peach
cobbler. See, to me

you are a Canada
someplace north

I have been, for years,
headed & not

known it.
If only I'd read

the moss on the tree!
instead of shaking

it for fruit—
you are a found

fallen thing—
a freedom—not this red

bloodhound ground—



DIXIELAND

I want the spell
of a woman—her

smell & say-so—
her humid

hands I seek—zombied—
The bayou

of my blood—standing
water & the 'squitoes

all hungry—hongry—
to see both our bodies

knocked out—dragged
quicksand down—

They'll put up posters—
have you seen—all over town—

Days later we'll be drug
naked from the swamp

that is us—re-
suscitated, rescued—

the cops without one clue.



REQUIEM

Your name is harm.
The bar fills

& empties eddies
like a drink & is not

the answer. Ain't—
I'm all kinds

of lost, watered,
down. The shot

glass like
a microscope strong.

I should be a natn'l
day of mourning

one week minus
mail. Entire month

of Sunday—a sabbath
swaying

mouthing hymns—
Where, pray

tell, went the words?
Rider, you are a whole

church-worth of hurt—

 

[karmadog]

I like two of those poems a lot, but 'Dixieland' reads as though he got his Southern expressions from repeated viewings of 'The Big Easy'.

I bet Mr. Young is from the left or right coast.

 

[Angeline]

Enough with the insults

I think I've worked through my need for abuse and insults and can move on.

Let's link to some poetry today.

Billy Collins is one of my favorite poets. For a writer who holds the mucho distinguished title U.S. Poet Laureate, he's an amazingly down to earth guy. He has skyrocketed to popularity--he's very well known for a poet, and is easily one of of the best-known American poet laureates. (How many can you name? List provided below, and try first--no peeking!). And for all his relative fame, he seems to live modestly and fairly quietly, continues to teach at the City University of New York, and of course writes wonderful poems.

Billy's greatest asset is his accessibility. He writes warm,witty poems that draw you in because they feel as good as a comfy chair. But he is also quite thoughtful and even profound in the most easy charming way.

Here's a great example. Read this and look how beautifully he captures the grave, thoughtful voice of a child (and at various ages, too). And check out the bow to the famous Shelley quote ("I fall on the thorns of life! I bleed!") in the last two lines:

On Turning Ten

The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.

You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.

But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.

This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.

It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.


Collins is a poet who really has a feel for music. His love of it comes across in many poems. This one is delightful.

Another reason why I don't keep a gun in the house

The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
that he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.

The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
I close all the windows in the house
and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast
but I can still hear him muffled under the music,
barking, barking, barking,

and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra,
his head raised confidently as if Beethoven
had included a part for barking dog.

When the record finally ends he is still barking,
sitting there in the oboe section barking,
his eyes fixed on the conductor who is
entreating him with his baton

while the other musicians listen in respectful
silence to the famous barking dog solo,
that endless coda that first established
Beethoven as an innovative genius.

There are some fine collections of his work on the web. You can even watch him read and discuss his poetry (you'll need real player to do so, but you can download it free there).

Take some time to know him if you dont already. You'll be glad you did.





Poet Laureates

 

[Angeline]

April 9

It is the 9th right? I've been writing almost nonstop all day and I'm feeling somewhat befuddled.

So given my confuzzledness (and the fact that I must remember where the hell I put my W-2 form), I'll try not to yammer too much.

Here's the link. everypoet.com. I started to explore it and it looks pretty cool. They have tons of resources, including links to famous poet pages, bulletin boards that offer various levels of critique, a "showcase" for experienced poets to present their best work, and even a poetry chat room (yup, they do).

I just spent a rather pleasant 20 minutes there talking to a nice guy who writes cool jabberwockyish poems. (At one point, a small group of poets there were actually discussing Sylvia Plath. In a chat room!)

They also have some obligatory weird stuff, like the "genuine haiku generator," which produced this effort:

ranting clock moving
cackling bulldogs lying doe
crying, shaking pike

I dunno. I think they need to talk to Senna Jawa. (Hi Senna! )

Then there's the Random Stump Speech Synopsis Haiku Generator, and I don't really understand the point but:

arms treaties revolt
bureaucratic better votes
resonate bluntly

did make me laugh.

They also have a "poetic" Periodic Table of Poetry with poems about the elements (all of them--weird, huh?), like:

Radon

The Last Noble Gas

Most noble of all gases,
Heaviest too, one hopes.
Much Krypton and Argon,
And with radioactive isotopes.

Not very usefull in itself,
But still fascinating,
Am I the only one
Who finds this poem scintillating?

Someone besides smithpeter has actually written about radon. Who'da thunk it? And sp, I much prefer your radon poem, lol.

So go explore and wish me luck on finding the tax form thingy.


Oh yeah--secret message to the poet who whined to me about having to name USA poet laureates: Robert Frost is *not* Canadian, ya big fibber.

 

[WickedEve]

Just checking your thread out for the first time and it's interesting. lol (just read all the insults... hee hee)

Here's a link I like. (Or should I start Eve's wicked links of the day?)

Free Spells

Many spells contain rhymes--maybe not great rhymes but the atmosphere and props really add to the poem. Anyway, here's a spell with poetry and follow the link to more. You never know, this sort of thing may inspire some magical poetry.

OCEAN WISH SPELL
Go to the ocean at dawn or dusk during the Waxing Moon, and bring with you:
- Small bottle Parchment Quill or fountain pen Blue candle Small moonstone or amethyst.
Cast your circle and sit on the sand facing the ocean.
Light the candle and place your ingredients before you.
On the parchment, draw a pentacle with the pen and place the amethyst or moonstone in
the center of it. Focus your energy on the stone, visualizing it glowing and shining with power.
When you feel ready, whisper a simple wish and sprinkle some sand over the stone, visualizing
the sand absorbing your wish. Roll up the parchment and place it in the bottle, along with the
stone and a small amount of sand. Release the bottle into the water and watch as the waves
carry the wish away, while saying this charm:
Goddess of the Moon, the Earth, the Sea,
Each wish in Thy name must come to be.
Powers and Forces which Tides do make,
Now summon Thy waves, my spell to take.
Sit on the beach and gaze at the beautiful sea until the candle burns itself out.
*Most beaches do not allow litter of any kind in the ocean, so you may be inclined to
either bury the bottle in the sand where the water will wash over it, or fill the bottle
with seawater and take it home with you, storing it with your other magical supplies.

Wow, even a litter reminder.

 

[Angeline]

Just checking your thread out for the first time and it's interesting. lol (just read all the insults... hee hee)

Here's a link I like. (Or should I start Eve's wicked links of the day?)

Everyone is welcome to put links here--and I know you must have some especially cool ones, being the very smart and cooly wicked thing you are.

(Of course, I could change the thread title to Everyone's cool links! )

Here's a chant from Eve's link for everyone:

CHANT FOR GOOD LUCK AND WELL BEING

To the moon.
To the sun.
To the skies.
To the waters.
Stars, let your fire burn.
Winds let your strength grow.
Let us unite.
Let me shine bright.

 

[CrowSingsOver]

tarts

I know this has nothing to do with poetry, unless they're sooo good I write about them, but I'm making mini cream cheese and strawberry tarts. YUM! Too bad I can't pass them around.

 

[Guest]

Ang, enjoy the link-
http://gofuckyourself.com/

 

[Angeline]

Dear De Sade

Thank you for your comments and best of luck with your poems. Of course, you should feel free--as I'm sure you will--to post whatever you like, but I won't be responding no matter how hard you work at insulting me or anyone else here.

Really, don't you think it's a waste of your time, if not mine?

And I really do wish you the best with your writing.

A.

 

[Guest]

uh, it was a joke. A sense of humor is important in life.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Not unless you're looking for the comedian wannabe forum (sic)

 

[WickedEve]

I'm proud to say that I got this at go fuck yourself:

 

[Guest]

Not unless you're looking for the comedian wannabe forum (sic)

so Comedy Central didnt return your phone calls eh?

 

[WickedEve]

I just noticed something. The little fella has only 4 fingers, so... is he giving us the middle finger or not?

 

[Angeline]

I'm proud to say that I got this at go fuck yourself

it's actually a pretty cool link, lol.

 

[Guest]

it's actually a pretty cool link, lol.

WHAT? You mean it didnt offend you?
*not sure what to think about this gal yet

 

[CrowSingsOver]

not only was I not offended, I was not impressed.

 

[Guest]

not only was I not offended, I was not impressed.

damn, I'll try better next time. Sorry.

 

[Guest]

Re: I'm proud to say that I got this at go fuck yourself:

Hey, that's cool! It's as if he's beckoning to us with his two "come hither/fuck you" fingers. I like it!

 

[Cordelia]

While doing a before-bedtime surf, I stumbled across this great site and had to share it with you.

In answer to the insults flying around here, I thought you all might like

The Surrealist Compliment Generator

Here is the one it came up with when I first clicked on it:

In hunger you most certainly drool your tongue like a well-oiled pendulum, swinging to and fro in a sinusoidal frieze befitting a wounded mosque.

Umm.....wow.

Enjoy. Or, at least, ponder.


Cordelia

 

[Angeline]

Silly Science

Think science is serious stuff? Think again. Ok, there's the theory of relativity and the Salk Vaccine, true.

But then there's this.