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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.
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?
I actually wrote this entire review and it got lost. It was inciteful, sweet, sincere. Now I'm going to have to be lazy about it and not post any links. If you don't know where the New Poems page is, or just have any general questions about dolphins and marine mammals--send a PM to SennaJawa.
...
etc etc etc I'm not in charge of anything, just want you(yes you!) to go and read and comment on the New Poems page, because some of these poems are well worth your internet time. Quit wanking to stories and hop on the lorry over to New Poems...err, ran out of rhymes. By the way, I'm not in charge of anything and you can review or recommend poems here if you want and undo all that I've done.
Thanks for mentioning my latest poem.
And good job trying to review all those poems.
I usually find a review that has a link to the new poems page, and then the new poems come up in a separate tab in Firefox.
I'm going to keep on trying to do Thursday. I try to past poet, poem title & link in a Word document and go from there- still refining my technique.
its not a question of education ts that youre holding up your vocabulary like a badge of honor as if you didnt consider anything but what would sound the most lofty. it makes the poem(s) pedantic when they dont have to be. you have the skills. i question the manner in which you are using them.
the poem reads like a hammer that wants to be a scalpel. you can do better.
May I write a fan letter here?lets look at the first part of the poem then. comments follow <------arrows.
You show me what's yours to the pith, <------ even substituting Core for Pith, this is a boring sentence because it has no details to grab onto. what color is the pith? whose pith? my pith? yours?
your orthodox impiety and mouthful mourning <-----Orthodox impiety is reaching too hard to create an oxymoron, when you could much more subtly craft a juxtaposition. see below for further comments on nonspecifics. i like mouthful mourning but you kill it in the next line with
as you martyr the matter <-------martyr the matter is trading cheap alliteration for meaning. you used martyr incorrectly which would be ok except that in this instance....... its not interesting. you cant martyr "the matter" and "the matter" is so nonspecific that it verges on obfuscation which makes the whole line (and by extension the stanza) meaningless.
You show me what's yours manifold,
marooned in the manner of the mystic,
you can't help but placidly pirouette,
as your once quaint ritual
now concedes the new rhetoric. <-------as in the stanza above this entire stanza is abstracts. there isnt one concrete detail (placidly pirouette might be ok if what was around it wasnt so bland) in this entire sentence which makes it not even poetry to me. youre jerking off your vocabulary and using my intellect as lube. stop it.
you have some idea what a poem should look like but youre windowdressing a poems framework with flashy words like pinning christmas lights to gauze.
buy this book http://www.amazon.com/Writing-Down-Bones-Freeing-Writer/dp/0877733759
Twilight of the Idols, or How to Poeticize with a Hammer. There are two modes in poetry, sound and image. I'm working on sound, mouthfuls of words that reach around the surreal and hug it and squeeze it like a cat. A poem is a lofty device, isn't it? You got it, exactly.
The Perishable
I am infertile, unrefined
pell-mell in the put together
a palpable revel,
a premeditated howl,
your giggle giftwrapped
with the give back chatter,
our tongue-in-cheek traffic
as we swap spit and perjure,
the perishable at arms
and tourniquet totters
I meant it when I said I'd go poem to poem with you. Put up whatever emotive, symbolist blank verse you want and I'll focus on sound. No one has to vote or comment or judge, and we'll stop when you get bored with it. I'm hoping it's you Cal, because you need to learn how to pick and choose what poems you present. No need to argue, just start a thread and post your first poem and then I'll post mine and so on. Every other joker with a big mouth that I've asked to do this has passed, I assume you'll try to argue and carry on and stomp your feet over criticism instead of writing a poem. No need to rush anything, your first poem doesn't have to be in the same ballpark as mine, we'll work up to that, I hope.
Writing against someone who's better than you is more useful than some book on technique.
ive got three pending poems waiting to show up in the new poems tomorrow or the next day. i will post one of them here early since youre so sound oriented.
gunfight
<i>"The hitter and the hit are no longer
two opposing objects,
but one reality."
-Zen in the Art of Archery</i>
the split nerves in the ends
of your fingers whistling
the smooth click of a single
action pistol
all things being equal
when you get down to dirt
and bullets it's a fair trade
dust for blood
slapping leather for a pine box
the cold shock of adrenaline
for pride and now you're boots
up breathing wet mess drinking
copper by the lungful ain't
no difference whether you got here
bulletholed or brain-tumored
bled out is dead as dying
in your sleep and you
boy
you were shooting at yourself
anyway
strange
to feel the bullet
before you hear
the shot
May I write a fan letter here?
It's been so long since someone new popped in to write intelligent criticism and comments on poems that I'm afraid I may swoon and ask you to autograph a stuffed animal or something.
Not that I have a stuffed animal handy, but if I did...
Oh. I forgot.
That link to Amazon in your post won't fly here. Links to commercial sites are prohibited. Just name the book and author.
Itza rules thing.
And since you're so symbol oriented, I'll post this here:
You've had me 'tween your thumbs,
just to whistle...
Tell me of your totem stones,
of the spaces I can't know,
of the life of your body
before your bones
had turned from the gristle,
when I'd only been a blade of grass
'tween your thumbs while you whistled.
Start a new thread and we can go back and forth, I won't comment directly on any of your poems so you can feel safe and sound, I'll just write a new poem in response.
if people keep taking criticism of their work personally and turning everything into a dick measuring contest i might go home. if i dont like your work its no reflection on you as a person. grow up and make better art or say 'thanks for your opinion' and make better art. everyone needs to make better art. sorry im not holding your hand.
the book is Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg. i think its much better than Rilke.
That's how it works, you abuse the comments portion at the New Poems page and you have to be investigated. Why is it that I got criticism here and not underneath my poem?
Well, don't go home on my account, please. You have what I think of the Right Attitude, plus you have the (What, gumption? Lack of pre-existing relationships?) ability to say what you really think.if people keep taking criticism of their work personally and turning everything into a dick measuring contest i might go home. if i dont like your work its no reflection on you as a person. grow up and make better art or say 'thanks for your opinion' and make better art. everyone needs to make better art. sorry im not holding your hand.
the book is Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg. i think its much better than Rilke.
i dont need to go back and forth. im comfortable with my poems. i will trade critique of your work day and night because honest feedback is the only thing thats worth anything when it comes to someone elses opinion. take it or leave it. you can comment or votefuck my poems to death i dont care. just promise to be honest.
"I assume you'll try to argue and carry on and stomp your feet over criticism instead of writing a poem."
As Calypygia I stopped reading your poems long before you left. Why do you assume I'd start reading them again? I'd love it if you were someone brand new, but it's more likely you just appeared today to abuse me because I posted something new. If you were someone new I wouldn't know anything about your poems and there'd be the slightest chance you could write a poem and not get buried line by line.
whatever man. i wont offer my opinion anymore. you dont have to read my poems. that makes us even. my work will speak for itself.
I asked you to have your work speak for itself, by posting poems with me. You chose to carry on and stomp your feet over your right to criticize. You can back peddle and say "Oh, I didn't mean to insult you, you took it the wrong way." But anyone can read it for what it was. If you had posted your criticism on my poem instead of insulting me I never would of suspected anything, but I'm nancy drew and I'm all up in vengeful mediocre babies who return after minutes away, and I want to show you how to write a poem.
DreamyLeer said:its not a question of education ts that youre holding up your vocabulary like a badge of honor as if you didnt consider anything but what would sound the most lofty. it makes the poem(s) pedantic when they dont have to be. you have the skills. i question the manner in which you are using them.
i should have known your original comment was bait. i responded without malice....... hell i commented originally without malice. i kept from zero bombing your poem in its own comments thread. if im getting defensive its because youre acting like youre twelve. sorry i didnt like your poem. sorry i wont dumb down my opinion. i take it back. you dont have the skills (professionalism, objectivity, maturity) to become a better poet. please continue with whatever you were doing. may the online journals of this world tremble at the very mention of your name and may editors everywhere plant the most moist smoochies in the world directly pon yer delicate pink gloryhole. i no longer have time for you. .......... and this time, i mean it!
To say he's twelve is generous. Jesus Christ.[Y]ou're acting like you're twelve.