EPMD's Prose Poetry is Over Group

[UnderYourSpell]

I'll buy the metaphor (note the clever use of metaphor). A "sob" is an uncontrollable spasm of weeping. It is a reflex reaction to extreme emotional distress. It seldom lasts very long, and when it passes there is a sense of relief. It is most often the reaction to something which cannot be changed, a death or other irretrievable loss.

I won't say all poetry is sobbing, but it is the source of a lot of poetry.

Quite right but saying all poetry is a form or sobbing is like saying all men have big peckers

 

[twelveoone]

Quite right but saying all poetry is a form or sobbing is like saying all men have big peckers

"big" is a relative word, generally speaking men do have "big" peckers in relationship to women. Some birds also,

 

[UnderYourSpell]

"big" is a relative word, generally speaking men do have "big" peckers in relationship to women. Some birds also,

don't quote me but for a quiz I was running I found one question that said the only bird that had a penis was a swan

*wanders off singing "Oh I stuck my finger in a woodpeckers hole ........ "

 

[twelveoone]

don't quote me but for a quiz I was running I found one question that said the only bird that had a penis was a swan

*wanders off singing "Oh I stuck my finger in a woodpeckers hole ........ "

only if it was Zeus.

but I also wondered about the Sesame rap singer know as "Big Bird"

 

[bronzeage]

Quite right but saying all poetry is a form or sobbing is like saying all men have big peckers

Big is a state of mind. The standard is not "how big", but "big enough".

I am glad some poetry is not a form of sobbing, because poets would have to be some miserable bastards to produce anything.

 

[Epmd607]

Confessional poetry is also played out. This thread aims to end prose poetry and confessional poetry as popularized by Percy, wWhit, ee cummings, bukowski.

It was a tough decision running against confession, since surrealism sorta lives in that space and it's the closest thing to expressing the inexpressible. So pastoral, confessional, and prose poetry needs to go. Pastoral is already sent out to pasture, but I thought I should remind people that pastoral poems were once the favored trending twitter hashmark centerpiece of the poetry world.

 

[bogusagain]

Confessional poetry is also played out. This thread aims to end prose poetry and confessional poetry as popularized by Percy, wWhit, ee cummings, bukowski.

It was a tough decision running against confession, since surrealism sorta lives in that space and it's the closest thing to expressing the inexpressible. So pastoral, confessional, and prose poetry needs to go. Pastoral is already sent out to pasture, but I thought I should remind people that pastoral poems were once the favored trending twitter hashmark centerpiece of the poetry world.

What are you actually in favour of?

Are we to write poetry like fact based journalists, novelists, with the objectivity of scientists, travel writers maybe, except in rhyme?

I can feel a confessional pastoral prose poem coming on.

 

[twelveoone]

What are you actually in favour of?

Are we to write poetry like fact based journalists, novelists, with the objectivity of scientists, travel writers maybe, except in rhyme?

I can feel a confessional pastoral prose poem coming on.

I love plopping my ass
on the green green grass
of home...

wasn't there a song about the green green grass of home?

...till Grendal came along

 

[bogusagain]

I love plopping my ass
on the green green grass
of home...

wasn't there a song about the green green grass of home?
...till Grendal came along

That was old wiggle arse Tom Jones himself, the knicker destroyer.

 

[butters]

Confessional poetry is also played out. This thread aims to end prose poetry and confessional poetry as popularized by Percy, wWhit, ee cummings, bukowski.

It was a tough decision running against confession, since surrealism sorta lives in that space and it's the closest thing to expressing the inexpressible. So pastoral, confessional, and prose poetry needs to go. Pastoral is already sent out to pasture, but I thought I should remind people that pastoral poems were once the favored trending twitter hashmark centerpiece of the poetry world.

well in that case, i have to nail my colours to the mast and come out like a lion protecting prose poetry. walt whitman only happens to be one of my favourite poets. his Song of Myself is one of my alltime favourite poems!

the way i see it, EPMD, there's room enough out there for all manner of poetry - it's the cornerstone on which i built my own poetry site back in the day. to try and foist any specific forms/styles/genres onto the writing community is tantamount to being the fashionistas of the day... the designer-writer declaring what's in and what's out this season... creating an entirely fictitious stage and scripts we are supposed to adhere to if one is to gain a certain cachet.

poetry has no specifics - it is whatever we make of it, or it makes of us. that's not to say general trends in writing won't come and go. they do. that's predictable. but it tends to be a more organic event, imo, than brought about by any vocal crusade. we all know there are publications that deem themselves 'modern', and, because of this, will refuse to touch a sonnet or a set of rhyming couplets with somebody else's bargepole; these might enjoy some success as a name for a limited period - right up until another publication comes along and sneers down its nose at the first's outmoded poetry on display. fashion. money. cachet. REAL poetry isn't concerned with any of that stuff. it just is.

 

[twelveoone]

well in that case, i have to nail my colours to the mast and come out like a lion protecting prose poetry. walt whitman only happens to be one of my favourite poets. his Song of Myself is one of my alltime favourite poems!

the way i see it, EPMD, there's room enough out there for all manner of poetry - it's the cornerstone on which i built my own poetry site back in the day. to try and foist any specific forms/styles/genres onto the writing community is tantamount to being the fashionistas of the day... the designer-writer declaring what's in and what's out this season... creating an entirely fictitious stage and scripts we are supposed to adhere to if one is to gain a certain cachet.

poetry has no specifics - it is whatever we make of it, or it makes of us. that's not to say general trends in writing won't come and go. they do. that's predictable. but it tends to be a more organic event, imo, than brought about by any vocal crusade. we all know there are publications that deem themselves 'modern', and, because of this, will refuse to touch a sonnet or a set of rhyming couplets with somebody else's bargepole; these might enjoy some success as a name for a limited period - right up until another publication comes along and sneers down its nose at the first's outmoded poetry on display. fashion. money. cachet. REAL poetry isn't concerned with any of that stuff. it just is.

since you asked:
triolets are the new black this season, sonnets are sooo passe.

and well, rhyming couplets sucked for over a century (most of time)

Now who will join me in my crusade against rhyming couplets, I say ban the little twofer buggers. Grrrrrrrr.


walt whitman??? what happened to merry ol' england, land of the iamb? and bleating sheep.

bahhh, bahhh

 

[bogusagain]

Now who will join me in my crusade against rhyming couplets, I say ban the little twofer buggers. Grrrrrrrr.

bahhh, bahhh

There once was a poem that rhymed
But I couldn’t get it to chime
So I wrote it in prose and got it to pose
And now it is simply divine!

ME!!!

 

[twelveoone]

There once was a poem that rhymed
But I couldn’t get it to chime
So I wrote it in prose and got it to pose
And now it is simply divine!

ME!!!

Now, Bog, that is not a true rhyming couplet.

 

[butters]

since you asked:
triolets are the new black this season, sonnets are sooo passe.

and well, rhyming couplets sucked for over a century (most of time)

Now who will join me in my crusade against rhyming couplets, I say ban the little twofer buggers. Grrrrrrrr.


walt whitman??? what happened to merry ol' england, land of the iamb? and bleating sheep.

bahhh, bahhh

triolets be damned. they can take their place in the sprawling constellation of poetry incarnations. if you've the inclination, it can get carnal. if not, traipse through the bucolic daisies and take care not to inhale a bug.

well, there's sucking and sucking. most do, as it's hard to write great rc's... and plenty of poets (well, people who're trying to write poems) made the mistake of thinking it was easy to do and it made a poem. i do believe Byron had something pithy to say about that somewhere, sometime.

put down yer sword, the li'l buggers have as much right to coexist with the limerick as the pantoum. hands off or i shall have to take issue with you.

There once was a poem that rhymed
But I couldn’t get it to chime
So I wrote it in prose and got it to pose
And now it is simply divine!

ME!!!

you twisted sister, you
when is a limerick not a limerick?
when it's been bogused!

 

[twelveoone]

well in that case, i have to nail my colours to the mast and come out like a lion protecting prose poetry. walt whitman only happens to be one of my favourite poets. his Song of Myself is one of my alltime favourite poems!

Now if I could be serious for a moment. I am surprised, a little ashamed. I'm surprised walt made it over to the isles, and I've been avoiding him all my life, yeh, yeh, father of the verse liberation movement and all that. Walt was fridayam's faves, I just never could bring myself to read "Song of Myself", maybe because I'm so depersonalized. Or maybe I was under the impression that poetry should aspire to something higher.

Like the gutter.

 

[butters]

Now if I could be serious for a moment. I am surprised, a little ashamed. I'm surprised walt made it over to the isles, and I've been avoiding him all my life, yeh, yeh, father of the verse liberation movement and all that. Walt was fridayam's faves, I just never could bring myself to read "Song of Myself", maybe because I'm so depersonalized. Or maybe I was under the impression that poetry should aspire to something higher.

Like the gutter.

you've not read that poem?

put aside your preconceptions and prejudices. read it. and then decide. chances are your opinion won't be altered. for me, it was one of the first WW poems i ever encountered, and i fell in love with the length and breadth of the man's vowels, consonants and love of humanity. whether or not that ever truly translated into his real life is another matter entirely.

this, of grass:

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken too soon out of their mothers' laps,
And here you are the mothers' laps.
This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.

 

[PoetGuy]

you've not read that poem?

put aside your preconceptions and prejudices. read it. and then decide. chances are your opinion won't be altered. for me, it was one of the first WW poems i ever encountered, and i fell in love with the length and breadth of the man's vowels, consonants and love of humanity. whether or not that ever truly translated into his real life is another matter entirely.

this, of grass:

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken too soon out of their mothers' laps,
And here you are the mothers' laps.
This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.

Like twelveoone, Poet Guy has never read Whitman. One reason is that very long poems make him sleepy. Another is that Whitman's style has never appealed to him. This may well be a lacuna in Poet Guy's aesthetic education, but his aesthetic education has so many lacunae that it looks like Ed Blue smacked it with two barrels of double-ought buckshot.

Basically, his Whitman experience is Weather Report's I Sing the Body Electric album (sample, for Ms. Jazzaline), which is not exactly part of the Collected Works.

 

[butters]

Like twelveoone, Poet Guy has never read Whitman. One reason is that very long poems make him sleepy. Another is that Whitman's style has never appealed to him. This may well be a lacuna in Poet Guy's aesthetic education, but his aesthetic education has so many lacunae that it looks like Ed Blue smacked it with two barrels of double-ought buckshot.

Basically, his Whitman experience is Weather Report's I Sing the Body Electric album (sample, for Ms. Jazzaline), which is not exactly part of the Collected Works.

so many poets, so many poems, so few hours in life spare to read them. i accept that i shall never, ever read all the poets out there i'd like to... with new writers appearing daily, it's a veritable pantheon out there to house all the glitterati. i sometimes sigh when i think about all i shall never read or know, but i do accept it i think that's why i find value in the 'share a poet' thread as it introduces me to some poets/poems i have never discovered before or, knowing the names, read.

 

[greenmountaineer]

A Pact

I make a pact with you, Walt Whitman -
I have detested you long enough.
I come to you as a grown child
Who has had a pig-headed father;
I am old enough now to make friends.
It was you that broke the new wood,
Now is a time for carving.
We have one sap and one root -
Let there be commerce between us.

Ezra Pound

 

[twelveoone]

I make a pact with you, Walt Whitman -
I have detested you long enough.
I come to you as a grown child
Who has had a pig-headed father;
I am old enough now to make friends.
It was you that broke the new wood,
Now is a time for carving.
We have one sap and one root -
Let there be commerce between us.

Ezra Pound

That I've read. As I have most of his.

you've not read that poem?

put aside your preconceptions and prejudices. read it. and then decide. chances are your opinion won't be altered. for me, it was one of the first WW poems i ever encountered, and i fell in love with the length and breadth of the man's vowels, consonants and love of humanity. whether or not that ever truly translated into his real life is another matter entirely.

time and now eyes. I've not finished many things, I would like to finish. I pretty much know WW's operating area. I don't know Hölderlin or Celan, with both, I have to proceed with extreme caution.

 

[Epmd607]

I like walt whitman and ee cummings. I'm just invested in ending bukowski and ginsbergian rips.rrr

 

[twelveoone]

I like walt whitman and ee cummings. I'm just invested in ending bukowski and ginsbergian rips.rrr

Why didn't you just come out and say:

You're against shit.

My opin on Buk was he was never much of a poet, but when he was on, a master of timing, thus more of a comedian.

My opin on Old Al, great poet, 'till he became accepted and fell into self parody.

ee whom I didn't like at first, continues to amaze me.

 

[bronzeage]

Have we trashed Carl Sandburg, yet.

 

[twelveoone]

Have we trashed Carl Sandburg, yet.

did he play for the cubs or was it the white sox?

 

[twelveoone]

Confessional poetry is also played out. This thread aims to end prose poetry and confessional poetry as popularized by Percy, wWhit, ee cummings, bukowski.

It was a tough decision running against confession, since surrealism sorta lives in that space and it's the closest thing to expressing the inexpressible. So pastoral, confessional, and prose poetry needs to go. Pastoral is already sent out to pasture, but I thought I should remind people that pastoral poems were once the favored trending twitter hashmark centerpiece of the poetry world.

http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=254157&page=128

you can waltz on over, and leave a comment or two

http://www.literotica.com/stories/new_submissions.php?type=poem
or directly into the heart of self indulgence.