Can you get a good poem out of a bad experience...

[vrosej10]

While the book is not written in a linear fashion Wikipedia
can't I read the graphic novel instead?

Yes. The graphic novel is pretty good (I own both) but the book is finger licking good and dripping with bogans(has many of the features of a redneck, but dumber, more Aussie and often urban), stoners, goths, welfare slacker (or dole bludgers or centrelink cheats in Aussie terms) and general crazies. I swear, you are gunna love it. This novel just screams twelveoone. Also dodge the sequel to this book The Tasmanian Babe Fiasco. Not good. It lacks something of the delicious and wanton insanity of the people in the first. Felafel is one of those books that it is VERY hard to put down. I've read it numerous times.

 

[bronzeage]

Briss vegas
vot a thought

The waiters work for tips.

 

[bogusagain]

without being a whining bitch? I just had most unpleasant afternoon with an unavoidable relative who thinks I am dog dirt and doesn't mind tell me so. Have anyone of you managed to get a poem out of something like this without coming off like a fool? This is my attempt.

This is Not Cricket! How About Tennis Anyone?
She ignored me when she got out of the car
Normally I wouldn’t be bothered but it had been a long day
That she had kept me waiting all morning and afternoon
And soon the snide tide of bitching began
And the situation, being what it is, I had to bite my tongue
But I’d have preferred to engage my wit and return her serve
Turning on her, at a blinding pace, the one thing I have over her
And it wouldn’t have been love all round, but I’d have won...
I wouldn’t have felt better though...

I'm no bitch but I can whine. I find it easier to write about negative experiences than good ones because they leave a more indelible mark.

in your dreams, maybe
whoever he is, he never arrived
just some unsuspecting dick artist
that circled your fashionable periphery
the truth is here, we experience it
you woke up in my bed

we can debate your choice
that maybe drink got the better of you
the convenience of my apartment
and your long ride home to the suburbs
it seemed a fair exchange
as you clawed my back

morning has a contrary view
your bitter lines, the pull of your face
drawing on my last cigarette
the suggestion of, could have done better
your hangover, adding a realism
to your mistake

well, Entschuldigen Sie bitte!
your forty something body
unapologetic in the morning light
is a triumph of experience over form
confidence over desire
bare faced cheek (quite literally)
occupies my bed

 

[Palba_Noruda]

The waiters work for tips.

Heh!

in your dreams, maybe

damn, that's a somber tone.

 

[twelveoone]

Yes. The graphic novel is pretty good (I own both) but the book is finger licking good and dripping with bogans(has many of the features of a redneck, but dumber, more Aussie and often urban), stoners, goths, welfare slacker (or dole bludgers or centrelink cheats in Aussie terms) and general crazies. I swear, you are gunna love it. This novel just screams twelveoone. Also dodge the sequel to this book The Tasmanian Babe Fiasco. Not good. It lacks something of the delicious and wanton insanity of the people in the first. Felafel is one of those books that it is VERY hard to put down. I've read it numerous times.

The last novel that screamed at me, I killed.
It was a bitch, it was Moby Dick,
haven't seen it around lately, have you?

 

[vrosej10]

The last novel that screamed at me, I killed.
It was a bitch, it was Moby Dick,
haven't seen it around lately, have you?

Nah, I think Greenpeace was trying to get in banned. You're safe now, you can come out from behind the bookshelf. It's a toss up between Flaubert's Parrot and Mrs Dalloway for my screamers. I hate the' blink and you miss quality of Woolf' and Flaubert's Parrot is just evil...

Felafel is a good book. You'll thank me, just be not afraid.

 

[twelveoone]

“Kill Bill” (Pantoum)
byjthserra©

Cut from a stainless edge
To flower in haiku
The flashing arc of sword
Screaming out but one name.

To flower in haiku
Blood stains white kimono
Screaming out but one name
Reflected in the blade.

Blood stains white kimono
Red breath in snow flurry
Reflected in the blade
A single rose in snow.

Red breath in snow flurry
Echoes his silent voice
A single rose in snow:
Life blossoms in the cold.

Echoes his silent voice
The flashing arc of sword
Life blossoms in the cold
Cut from a stainless edge.


this guy did...
oh the cutting wit

 

[butters]

waits for people to try and create some order from the chaos of emotions triggered by fires, quakes, tsunamis and failing nuclear powerplants...

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I did write something at the time but only Vee has seen it ...... it didn't get any further

 

[butters]

I did write something at the time but only Vee has seen it ...... it didn't get any further

i think it will furnish a number of expressions in word, annie... i can't even begin yet. i need a bit more distance first. if it helps, though, it was worth the writing, right?

 

[Angeline]

I think, Vee, that you can get a good poem potentially out of any experience, good or bad, maybe even indifferent if you can look at it in a new way when you write.

I've had a lot of loss in my life: my only sibling died when I was a teenager, my parents are both gone, I lost most of my lifelong friends in a very bitter and nasty separation and divorce from my ex. Some of the best poems I've written have those experiences at the heart of them--either implicity or overtly. It just takes time and space to process one's emotions about them and then (imo) the experience becomes available to poetry.

 

[Koba]

First time I've seen this thread.

I don't write well when I'm pissed off. Anger makes me sound like an asshole when I try to write. Now depression or a broken heart can make the words spill out!

The best example I can think of a poem that fits the bill for the theme of this thread is Bob Dylan's "When the Ship Comes In". He wrote it early in his career after a hotel manager refused him a room in his hotel because of the way Dylan looked.

 

[bogusagain]

First time I've seen this thread.

Anger makes me sound like an asshole

Sometimes sounding like an asshole is good. Bad taste can sometimes be the best taste. Spitting blood and teeth can make for good poetry. Everyone wants to write a love poem or a requiem, not many want to write a poem about braining the evil two timing bitch!

The best example I can think of a poem that fits the bill for the theme of this thread is Bob Dylan's "When the Ship Comes In". He wrote it early in his career after a hotel manager refused him a room in his hotel because of the way Dylan looked.

What about Positively 4th Street? Isn't that a good bit of anger written about Joan Baez.

You got a lotta nerve
To say you are my friend
When I was down
You just stood there grinning

You got a lotta nerve
To say you got a helping hand to lend
You just want to be on
The side that’s winning

You say I let you down
You know it’s not like that
If you’re so hurt
Why then don’t you show it

You say you lost your faith
But that’s not where it’s at
You had no faith to lose
And you know it

I know the reason
That you talk behind my back
I used to be among the crowd
You’re in with

Do you take me for such a fool
To think I’d make contact
With the one who tries to hide
What he don’t know to begin with

You see me on the street
You always act surprised
You say, “How are you?” “Good luck”
But you don’t mean it

When you know as well as me
You’d rather see me paralyzed
Why don’t you just come out once
And scream it

No, I do not feel that good
When I see the heartbreaks you embrace
If I was a master thief
Perhaps I’d rob them

And now I know you’re dissatisfied
With your position and your place
Don’t you understand
It’s not my problem

I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you

Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You’d know what a drag it is
To see you

 

[twelveoone]

Sometimes sounding like an asshole is good. Bad taste can sometimes be the best taste. Spitting blood and teeth can make for good poetry. Everyone wants to write a love poem or a requiem, not many want to write a poem about braining the evil two timing bitch!



What about Positively 4th Street? Isn't that a good bit of anger written about Joan Baez.

You got a lotta nerve
To say you are my friend
When I was down
You just stood there grinning

You got a lotta nerve
To say you got a helping hand to lend
You just want to be on
The side that’s winning

You say I let you down
You know it’s not like that
If you’re so hurt
Why then don’t you show it

You say you lost your faith
But that’s not where it’s at
You had no faith to lose
And you know it

I know the reason
That you talk behind my back
I used to be among the crowd
You’re in with

Do you take me for such a fool
To think I’d make contact
With the one who tries to hide
What he don’t know to begin with

You see me on the street
You always act surprised
You say, “How are you?” “Good luck”
But you don’t mean it

When you know as well as me
You’d rather see me paralyzed
Why don’t you just come out once
And scream it

No, I do not feel that good
When I see the heartbreaks you embrace
If I was a master thief
Perhaps I’d rob them

And now I know you’re dissatisfied
With your position and your place
Don’t you understand
It’s not my problem

I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you

Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You’d know what a drag it is
To see you

Objection! Impersonal personal pronoun.

That was a bad day, 70+ mile an hour straight line winds, I passed three downed trees on the way home wondering what I was going to lose. Just a couple of limbs, and laundry on the line had blew off. I actually found one of my shirts a week later.
The limbs weren't in them.

Sometimes I wish my life was more interesting, but not often,

 

[twelveoone]

without being a whining bitch?

on a more serious note, all poetry comes from somewhere, it becomes better when it moves from the specific to the general, sometimes great when it hits the universal.
Case#1 Sylvia Plath

Daddy

You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time---
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal
...
http://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/daddy.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daddy_%28poem%29

http://www.english.illinois.edu/maps/poets/m_r/plath/daddy.htm


Plathetic Fallacies

response

both from

'The Boot in the Face'

Just how much is this specific to ms plath, and how much did she move artistically to the more general? I don't know how far it reaches to the universal.

But really you do have to do more with either your bad (or good) days. A couple of years ago, it was like the fucking Oprah show around here.

 

[needalick]

oops thats just bad

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Tears in Heaven

 

[Koba]

Ahhh....yes "Positively 4th Street"! What an absolutely brutal song! The last line is an incredible bite. I don't agree that it was written for Joan Baez though. Although they had broken off their relationship I don't think he was that bitter to her. I think it was more likely aimed at other folk artists who were jealous of his success.

And yes... "Daddy" by Sylvia Plath! My! I have an old record (remember them?) of her reading her poems. "Daddy" was one of them. It gives me chills up my spine listening to her. She is spitting venom as the words come out. The last two lines are filled with unimaginable hatred. Wow! It is hard to fathom the inner conflict this relationship caused her, with a very sad outcome.

 

[greenmountaineer]

Tears in Heaven

I can never listen to this because I know the story behind it concerning his child. That said, on the other end of the age spectrum, my wife, daughter, and I are seeing life slowly but methodically coming to an end in my wife's 93 year old father who lives next door to us. While Literotica doesn't seem bend in that direction, several of my submissions have recently, and I find that in addition to the sadness there, there are also many lessons on how to live.

 

[twelveoone]

I can never listen to this because I know the story behind it concerning his child. That said, on the other end of the age spectrum, my wife, daughter, and I are seeing life slowly but methodically coming to an end in my wife's 93 year old father who lives next door to us. While Literotica doesn't seem bend in that direction, several of my submissions have recently, and I find that in addition to the sadness there, there are also many lessons on how to live.

GM, you are identifying 3 possibly 4 things here, all interrelated.
1st, I am sorry that you have to go through this, but it is better a parent than a child. In life, I don't know of any easy lessons. We don't want to seem to learn them, easily.

2nd, about your poetry and the reaction to them. You are a good writer, you don't want to pander to the sympathy factor. I remember reading some of these poems, what you seem to be doing is focusing in on exactly what is happening (too many details) without the addition of an emotional value judgment. All well and good. But you are not getting out of what is specific to you, you are not generalizing it. I don't know how easy it is in 14 lines. What you seem to be writing is more suitable for a book.

With that good luck, both ways.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I can never listen to this because I know the story behind it concerning his child. That said, on the other end of the age spectrum, my wife, daughter, and I are seeing life slowly but methodically coming to an end in my wife's 93 year old father who lives next door to us. While Literotica doesn't seem bend in that direction, several of my submissions have recently, and I find that in addition to the sadness there, there are also many lessons on how to live.

I also know the story behind it and I sympathise with what you're going through I have been there too

 

[twelveoone]

waits for people to try and create some order from the chaos of emotions triggered by fires, quakes, tsunamis and failing nuclear powerplants...

jthserra did. A few months after the 2005 one. A pantuom, I remember it, except for the title. It was one of best things I read here.

 

[twelveoone]

Ahhh....yes "Positively 4th Street"! What an absolutely brutal song! The last line is an incredible bite. I don't agree that it was written for Joan Baez though. Although they had broken off their relationship I don't think he was that bitter to her. I think it was more likely aimed at other folk artists who were jealous of his success.

And yes... "Daddy" by Sylvia Plath! My! I have an old record (remember them?) of her reading her poems. "Daddy" was one of them. It gives me chills up my spine listening to her. She is spitting venom as the words come out. The last two lines are filled with unimaginable hatred. Wow! It is hard to fathom the inner conflict this relationship caused her, with a very sad outcome.

and three other links

 

[bogusagain]

And yes... "Daddy" by Sylvia Plath! My! I have an old record (remember them?) of her reading her poems. "Daddy" was one of them. It gives me chills up my spine listening to her. She is spitting venom as the words come out. The last two lines are filled with unimaginable hatred. Wow! It is hard to fathom the inner conflict this relationship caused her, with a very sad outcome.

Great poet, as a person she seems to have been totally demented. No wonder Hughes was off. What made her a good poet seems to have made her unbearable to be with. This gives an impression of her state of mind. (Typically a slow, exacting writer, Plath fired off 21 poems in the 28 days after Hughes left her.) Rather ironically if you believe the myth, Hughes did her poetry a favour by deserting her but was the bad experience knowing him or him leaving, which is what seems to have had her burning.

 

[greenmountaineer]

GM, you are identifying 3 possibly 4 things here, all interrelated.
1st, I am sorry that you have to go through this, but it is better a parent than a child. In life, I don't know of any easy lessons. We don't want to seem to learn them, easily.

2nd, about your poetry and the reaction to them. You are a good writer, you don't want to pander to the sympathy factor. I remember reading some of these poems, what you seem to be doing is focusing in on exactly what is happening (too many details) without the addition of an emotional value judgment. All well and good. But you are not getting out of what is specific to you, you are not generalizing it. I don't know how easy it is in 14 lines. What you seem to be writing is more suitable for a book.

With that good luck, both ways.

Good food for thought. Something to think about.