"To keep the review thread clean..."

[MrLJM]

Just don't post like eight a day, that can get irritating for those of us who read the new poems regularly. It's not so easy removing them from the site once you've posted, so think about whether you want people reading your not so hot a couple years on when you're still writing poetry in a serious way. When did you start writing? Cuz 'evolve' conjures years if not decades in my mind.

No, I don't mind people reading my "not-so-hot" poems. I want people to completely understand me from being a teenager to (hopefully) becoming an adult, if you get what I mean. I want people to see how I change, in my writing and in my views. So don't remove them.

I've only been writing since October. But since then there have been a lot of changes in my mind.

By now I've read all your poems on that page:

May at long last my world-weary fever,
Break (and die) in the bed of a waterfall.

and

And I know it would murder me to say
These words to myself on a seasoned day.

Are the bits that make me interested in what you're writing. The second I like the Smiths in it, the first for the dylan T. The whole picture is about writing a dozen lines as good as those couplets from those two poems.

If you don't mind me asking, did you think the rest of the poems were bad then? As you said, "The whole picture is about writing a dozen lines as good as those couplets from those two poems."

Or was it more the fact that those couplets stood out more?

If you saw Morrissey and Dylan Thomas in those poems, it's not deliberate. I've tried to avoid writing like Dylan Thomas and I haven't read his poems in a while. A few months ago I would have been more influence by Thomas, but now it's different.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

I asked Lauren when I was doing the survivor thread and she said that they are my poems and I can post them wherever I like

I was a little surprised when I read talk about lit having exclusive rights, so I went to the FAQ If I submit a story to Literotica, do I still own the copyright? As I see it, the key factor there is 'without your permission'. If you post it elsewhere that obviously doesn't apply. And if a copyright dispute were to arise, wherever you first posted should have the date - you'd only have to fall back to your computer files (unless you directly enter from paper or your head).

 

[bflagsst]

No, I don't mind people reading my "not-so-hot" poems. I want people to completely understand me from being a teenager to (hopefully) becoming an adult, if you get what I mean. I want people to see how I change, in my writing and in my views. So don't remove them.

I've only been writing since October. But since then there have been a lot of changes in my mind.



If you don't mind me asking, did you think the rest of the poems were bad then? As you said, "The whole picture is about writing a dozen lines as good as those couplets from those two poems."

Or was it more the fact that those couplets stood out more?

If you saw Morrissey and Dylan Thomas in those poems, it's not deliberate. I've tried to avoid writing like Dylan Thomas and I haven't read his poems in a while. A few months ago I would have been more influence by Thomas, but now it's different.

I think it used to be that a story or poem couldn't be published anywhere else first if you were to submit it to this website, but now I can't find that info, so either it never existed or they dropped it. It was like one of the two or three rules for getting your work posted. I thought it was a real rule, I guess it isn't, doesn't bother me if it isn't. The only way copyright matters for poetry is in mass production of greeting cards. I'm not in charge of anything, not gonna delete or move anything that isn't mine.

The poems you have on this site are the the best of the ones from that other site. It isn't an issue of writing bad poems because I think you're beyond that. As we develop we still write plenty of mediocre, but I'd think the goal would be to write whole poems that are fantastic and not just a couple lines here or there. The poems you have posted here are all more than middling, with them it's more that there's a few lines that could be re-worked instead of everything but a couplet.

If you've only been writing since Octubre you're mirroring the life of Rimbaud in more than a few ways, that is aside from coincidence of age. So either you're going to burn out in a couple years and hop a steamer for africa or become fantastic in a dead art. Congrats, either way it's a nice bit of bio. If I ever form a poetry gang you can be in it, we'll wander around the woods yelling "The tree has entered my hands".

 

[MrLJM]

]The poems you have on this site are the the best of the ones from that other site. It isn't an issue of writing bad poems because I think you're beyond that. As we develop we still write plenty of mediocre, but I'd think the goal would be to write whole poems that are fantastic and not just a couple lines here or there. The poems you have posted here are all more than middling, with them it's more that there's a few lines that could be re-worked instead of everything but a couplet.

Thank you. I agree with you that a few poems need re-working.

I've decided to be a bit more "economical" now with which poems I post on the website. I've deleted three of the submissions I was going to post and I'm going to post poems I feel more satisfied with.

If you've only been writing since Octubre you're mirroring the life of Rimbaud in more than a few ways, that is aside from coincidence of age. So either you're going to burn out in a couple years and hop a steamer for africa or become fantastic in a dead art. Congrats, either way it's a nice bit of bio. If I ever form a poetry gang you can be in it, we'll wander around the woods yelling "The tree has entered my hands".

Thanks for the offer. Maybe I'll take it up some day.

If you could, could you go into more detail in how I mirror Rimbaud's life because I'd be interested in what you have to say on that. I like Rimbaud's work but I don't know much about his life. I do know that he started writing at a young age, that he gave up poems at 21, then travelled extensively later in his life, but not much else.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Thankyou to EO for the mentions and actually no I'm not glad to be free of the triggers (well some of them I am!) I need triggers folks

 

[Angeline]

and that was one off the cuff, so to speak?

i am deeply impressed, and never even heard of a terzanelle before - embarrassed as i am to admit it

she's cupped
in the white bowl of his thoughts

melting sowly
white on white

stirs her with a lazy finger
brings it to his lips

then sighs
bored with vanilla

if only he'd added
some sauce to the occasion











actually, this lacks the fire of passion so maybe it should be another place. oh well.

Hey there, Ms. Butty, I love your user name. I'm just a dumb Yank, but I actually do know what a chip butty is (though I've never had one), The "Passion" thread is for poems written off the cuff, in other words no pre-writing or editing or such: just write and post. I like your poem; those first two lines especially are excellent.

And Eve, yeah, she can write that stuff with her eyes closed and a hand tied behind her back (actually she'd like that alot lol). She is very talented and writes form poems and free verse equally well.

 

[butters]

thanks, Angeline. so i did put it in the right place. i was running back through threads earlier, to take a good look at the sort of writing here. it was certainly worth it. the writing live thread i liked especially. i think it was someone else's poem a few above my own post that had the white bowl mentioned in it - just riffed off that.

glad i came over here. i remember champagne mentioning this place to me a couple of years ago so thought i'd give it a try.

 

[Angeline]

thanks, Angeline. so i did put it in the right place. i was running back through threads earlier, to take a good look at the sort of writing here. it was certainly worth it. the writing live thread i liked especially. i think it was someone else's poem a few above my own post that had the white bowl mentioned in it - just riffed off that.

glad i came over here. i remember champagne mentioning this place to me a couple of years ago so thought i'd give it a try.

Champ gives good advice.

One of the things that I really love about this forum is the opportunity to read and then riff off others' poems. I think I've written some of my best poetry as a result of getting inspired by others. It's pretty quiet here right now, but I think it'll pick up again in the fall.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

Thankyou to EO for the mentions and actually no I'm not glad to be free of the triggers (well some of them I am!) I need triggers folks

WW II - Battle of Britain

Stimulus Package - I haven't noticed an erotic poem with that title yet.

Cat sleeping on the windowsill (like one of mine is now).

"Try it on for size"

 

[UnderYourSpell]

WW II - Battle of Britain

Stimulus Package - I haven't noticed an erotic poem with that title yet.

Cat sleeping on the windowsill (like one of mine is now).

"Try it on for size"

errrrrrr right lol I'm not very good on erotic lol is that a comment at the bottom? All my poems seem to be coming out as amusing little dittys right now

 

[EroticOrogeny]

errrrrrr right lol I'm not very good on erotic lol is that a comment at the bottom? All my poems seem to be coming out as amusing little dittys right now

You can take it as a comment or perhaps it'll trigger ...

 

[LoveIsAllYouNeed]

Thank you, EroticOrogeny, for the recommendation.

To bring you up to date, I have submitted nine "Haiku Stories" in all. Several have been approved, I expect the remainder will be approved either today or tomorrow.

My thanks to all who visit, vote, and especially those who comment.

namaste,
Robert

 

[hmmnmm]

EO, appreciate the honesty.

rose, glad you were able to enjoy today's even if the meaning eluded. I think I'm getting to like the thought of employing you for these special experiments. I normally don't do this, but I'm in a mood, so...

It's all in the title.

When beginning something new I have a habit of reaching into a freezer or a basket where are kept piles of spare, discarded, previously viable words and snippets and scraps, closing my eyes as I reach, and whatever I pull out, I throw onto the table, and see if anything can be made from that fragment. Often nothing. Sometimes something.

Well I wanted to go against that tendency, like engage the senses more with the outer real world, and also start with a clean page, leave alone the items in the freezers and baskets.

I chose to study the tree we have in the backyard, which branches and leaves all but fill this office window. Wondered about trying to sketch some of it, but with words. Found it to be a task as richly yummy as it was daunting. Didn't get very far. Try again today or tomorrow, as it could become as addicting as the freezer and basket piecemeal procedure.

We are being blessed with a pleasantly mild summer, and yesterday with some rain, the afternoon turned downright cool.

So I made the backyard tree and its leaves a she. She came as she does each year. But this time she forgot her sweater. She got chilly and she can't hide what the chill does to certain very visible parts of herself. For awhile she could at least feel the breeze move her around so she was not so open and obvious. But then the breeze stilled... and so forth.

It failed as a sketch, sort of spun out of control. But just the attempt or intent to sketch was so enjoyable I'm going to go out and try some more. The day begs for it. It's more like early specks of fall than the middle of summer.

Thank you again, and I know I'm way behind on commenting and stuff. A window will open into a cozy mood, and will have plenty to catch up on. I do read...

 

[bflagsst]

...I chose to study the tree we have in the backyard, which branches and leaves all but fill this office window. Wondered about trying to sketch some of it, but with words...

There's a tree right outside that fills my front window and during the day I'll lie on my couch and stare at it. Once when I was sleepy and staring at it the leaves were shimmering and I saw the face of Jesus in it. I felt all warm and spiritual and revelatory. Sometimes I dream-talk to Jesus, sometimes I feel his presence after I wake up and extend my arms and accept the world as it is and the bare bones of my own existence.

However, I've no belief in any kind of spiritual Jesus or life-after-death, or Creator or reincarnation. But Jesus is in my life and poems. I'd say it isn't the Jesus of the Gospels, because one day I actually read all the Gospels word for word and that Jesus is different than the Jesus spoken of in my Sunday School and Catholic Church. The Sunday School Jesus is more of a spiritual animal like the Indians have during special experiences, just a marker for a certain feeling.

I try to express that revelatory feeling in my poems, try to match the bliss of those moments with the love I feel for certain people. I think I feel the same way the Prophets and 19th Century Holy Rollers and Shakers felt about the messages coming to them. The difference is probably my love letters to Jesus are only a ladder back into my honest love for the people around me that I can't always reach into. Once I feel I've expressed something revelatory, I can toss out Jesus and the ladder he came in on. Jesus is magic afterall. I think kids have that feeling when they're expressing their love for Jesus, they've no real idea of Jesus, but they do have revelatory moments where they feel absolute bliss about things and people and can associate the magic Jesus with a moment of absolute adoration for their mother or father.

 

[hmmnmm]

There's a tree right outside that fills my front window and during the day I'll lie on my couch and stare at it. Once when I was sleepy and staring at it, the leaves were shimmering and I saw the face of Jesus in it. I felt all warm and spiritual and revelatory. Sometimes I dream-talk to Jesus, sometimes I feel his presence after I wake up and extend my arms and accept the world as it is and the bare bones of my own existence.

However, I've no belief in any kind of spiritual Jesus or life-after-death, or Creator or reincarnation. But Jesus is in my life and poems. I'd say it isn't the Jesus of the Gospels, because one day I actually read all the Gospels word for word and it's different than the Jesus spoken of in my Sunday School and Catholic Church. He's more of a spiritual animal like the Indians have during special experiences, just a marker for a certain feeling.

I try to express that revelatory feeling in my poems, try to match the bliss of those moments with the love I feel for certain people. I think I feel the same way the Prophets and 19th Century Holy Rollers and Shakers felt about the messages coming to them. The difference is probably my love letters to Jesus are only a ladder back into my honest love for the people around me that I can't always reach into. Once I feel I've expressed something revelatory, I can toss out Jesus and the ladder he came in on. Jesus is magic afterall.

Sounds like a deciduous.

This one's some kind of locust I think, which there aren't many of around here. And I've not scaled such spiritual rungs, at least not yet. Just working with the leaves and branches for now, and all the crotches. Angels?

 

[bflagsst]

Sounds like a deciduous.

This one's some kind of locust I think, which there aren't many of around here. And I've not scaled such spiritual rungs, at least not yet. Just working with the leaves and branches for now, and all the crotches. Angels?

Green leaved deciduous. Angels are such a bad idea, when I hear about angels I think of Christmas ornaments and bad porcelain sculptures and tacky tacky tacky. Once when I was little I was lying in my parents' bed and falling asleep and there was a moment where the picture of the room around me was re-created in my head, then I awoke and realized I dreamt the room for a second. That was as revelatory as the Jesus in the leaves to me. It's a sort of a feeling of insight, whether it is actually an insight into existence or not doesn't matter so much to me, whereas it matters to 'spiritualists'.

I'm not really looking for or trying to create insights into poetry or existence either, it's the once in a while type of feeling I think everyone gets, but most people either don't recognize them or feel they're as important as getting baptized in a river or yelled at by a preacher.

 

[hmmnmm]

Green leaved deciduous. Angels are such a bad idea, when I hear about angels I think of Christmas ornaments and bad porcelain sculptures and tacky tacky tacky. Once when I was little I was laying in my parents' bed and falling asleep and there was a moment where the picture of the room around me was re-created in my head then I awoke and realized I dreamt the room for a second. That was as revelatory as the Jesus in the leaves to me.

Ah, see I don't think porcelain or christmas ornaments when I think of angels. I think of... well the words went and hid. Soft garments flowing loose... like milk or something. Hailstones pouring like sour cream... and blowing a trumpet or some such brass instrument. Not a clarinet. Maybe a sax. Not saying that's the kind of angels in this tree, or that there's any angels at all. Haven't got that far yet. Still on the leaves and branches.

 

[bflagsst]

Ah, see I don't think porcelain or christmas ornaments when I think of angels. I think of... well the words went and hid. Soft garments flowing loose... like milk or something. Hailstones pouring like sour cream... and blowing a trumpet or some such brass instrument. Not a clarinet. Maybe a sax. Not saying that's the kind of angels in this tree, or that there's any angels at all. Haven't got that far yet. Still on the leaves and branches.

Your crotch isn't revelatory. I don't know if I can point you in the direction of a revelatory crotch, I think it comes in the curtains, ceiling, girl-hair, and carpet too. Maybe you have those sort of moments in your messages here. Does your text speak back to you, or is it just a dumping of information? I have to edit these messages a bunch of times because I'm having a real-time conversation with the text I've just posted and need to tell it something else.

 

[hmmnmm]

Your crotch isn't revelatory.

Now that's a great line.

 

[bflagsst]

Now that's a great line.

Hey, I left you bread at your threadcast, I want to discuss a free-form physics problem I'm having.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Thank you, EO, for this -

<clip>......Tristess2, with Poetic Chic-anery from yesterday.....</clip>

- and thanks also to vrosej10, EO, UYS and anonymous (of your peg?) for your comments.

 

[vrosej10]

Thank you, EO, for this - - and thanks also to vrosej10, EO, UYS and anonymous (of your peg?) for your comments.

Coolio. Consistently love your work.

 

[bflagsst]

Where did Crystal_Gem go? She wrote a bunch of poems in the spring then stopped. Is she a once a year poet? Has somebody convinced her to leave her home, family, and this porno site for greener pastures? I'd like to know.

If you're listening Crystal_Gem, you can join my poetry street/sometimes forest gang. We'll sing "the sap has ascended my arms" as we descend trees to perform poems.

 

[Epmd607]

Where did Crystal_Gem go? She wrote a bunch of poems in the spring then stopped. Is she a once a year poet? Has somebody convinced her to leave her home, family, and this porno site for greener pastures? I'd like to know.

If you're listening Crystal_Gem, you can join my poetry street/sometimes forest gang. We'll sing "the sap has ascended my arms" as we descend trees to perform poems.

I'm going to stay off the message board until Bill Dada returns. I'm going to look him up and write him a letter telling him how much better this portion of the site was when he was here. CrystalGem did write gems though.

I wrote a poem recently upon witnessing a comment someone left on one of Bill's poems. I love that poem, it's the best one I've written in a while. Jennifer has it next to my picture on her website. I've altered it since, but the heart of it hasn't changed. Heart of a champion.

 

[lorencino]

So how do people disappear. I've searched high and low and cannot find a way of even deleting one pathetic little poem from my submissions index page. Can anyone help with this?