What do you consider a taboo subject?

[champagne1982]

It's lovely of you to say this, Ms. M., but I can't even park a car with grace and dignity.

You're right, though. I know absolutely nothing about homelessness (or a lot of other things, which is probably obvious). For me to try and write about a subject like that, I would have to personalize it--write about an encounter I had with someone who was homeless, for example.

The funny thing is that I happily write about physics or chemistry or mathematics, none of which I know much about. But the impact of getting something wrong there seems less potentially upsetting. To me or to the reader.

I think getting Newtonian physics wrong would be very upsetting, considering the gravity of the subject .

 

[Tzara]

I think getting Newtonian physics wrong would be very upsetting, considering the gravity of the subject .

Just back away slowly, dear. The effect decreases in inverse square to your distance.

Et merci, ma chere, pour votre commentaire sur mon poème précédent. Le chien est maintenant un escargot, je pense.

Et oui, l'eau est froid.

 

[champagne1982]

I would love to think that I tend to write emotive poems on subjects I care about.

Remember this one Wangui Waithira by jd4george? He's got a way of tackling tough subjects and his skill in this particular case, transports you to that part of your soul where it's okay to cry and feel bad about being a member of the race that allows this to happen to its children.

Sometimes I succeed in expressing a social statement. Most of the time, I try to relate how reading or learning about tough subjects made me feel, back to the reader.

Choices

a pale face
beneath a recycled
stocking cap
no pompom, that's gone
with the colours
of Christmas

begrudging every calorie
burned to move on
find a different door
a new patch of concrete
thief, of the lowest sort,
stealing from the poor

noises from an alley
slapping wetness
voiceless mews
whining in discomfort
submit to tricks
already sold out
to a harsher master

the needle doesn't hurt
not as much as a gut
wrenched tight with need

blank stares easier
on the eyes than tears
feigned unconcern
don't care
it's better that way.

 

[Maria2394]

I think getting Newtonian physics wrong would be very upsetting, considering the gravity of the subject .

Carrie, to use an old mountain phrase, you 'bout made me bust a gut!! thats just so funny, lol

on homelessness--

the image most people have is what they see on the news,---the old dirty guys on the street with a cart filled with cans...its not always like that. I have known homeless people, ( my brother, for instance, ) who preferred that lifestyle, no bills, no responsibilities, sleep in a shelter, eat there, do odd jobs for enough money to drink on...

then there are those even more mentally ill than most people realize... they dont realize how bad off they are and how much they do need help, they are probably the most vulnerable because they dont realizetheir situation, and then..

there are the women and kids who have been displaced by divorce, domestic violence, the economy.

my parents , God bless them, both being dead and all..well, things happen, I didnt feel wanted, in fact, felt lke they wanted me gone. I was 16, left home, had NO idea the ramifications of not being at, or having a home.

Tzara, the worst part was feeling like I was inferior, because no one wanted me or loved me. Because I couldnt bathe everyday. It hurts to remember, almost to tears, but taught me so much and I can survive anything, if I have to. But I was lucky. it only lasted a few months then I met my hubby and have basically been with hiim all my life from then on, sometimes its not been much better, but hey, it is better but ya know? I just realized, I have lived with the fear for so long, of it happening again. A few years ago, I spent some time in a womens shelter......

I woke up one morning, after sleeping under an overpass ( that sounds totally wrong) had pigeon crap in my hair. all over. caught a ride to winterpark florida and washed off in a huddle house bathroom, then they ran me off and I met up with a guy that let me stay with him and his sister and her husband for a couple of months, they were violent alcoholics, worse than what I had left home because of...

oh well, its just the feeling of not belonging, its the worst part. not being able to look people in the eye and they assume the worst.

I have been fortunate, I must still be because I look up now

 

[Maria2394]

I would love to think that I tend to write emotive poems on subjects I care about.

Remember this one Wangui Waithira by jd4george? He's got a way of tackling tough subjects and his skill in this particular case, transports you to that part of your soul where it's okay to cry and feel bad about being a member of the race that allows this to happen to its children.

Sometimes I succeed in expressing a social statement. Most of the time, I try to relate how reading or learning about tough subjects made me feel, back to the reader.

Choices

a pale face
beneath a recycled
stocking cap
no pompom, that's gone
with the colours
of Christmas

begrudging every calorie
burned to move on
find a different door
a new patch of concrete
thief, of the lowest sort,
stealing from the poor

noises from an alley
slapping wetness
voiceless mews
whining in discomfort
submit to tricks
already sold out
to a harsher master

the needle doesn't hurt
not as much as a gut
wrenched tight with need

blank stares easier
on the eyes than tears
feigned unconcern
don't care
it's better that way.

thats written by someone who knows, or knos someone who has been there...damn, I miss that guy!! he is so good!

thanks for pulling that one up

 

[The_Fool]

Everything can be examined. Some subjects just need a harsher light than others.....


Blame Carrie for these two. I think she was the one to do the same title challenge. There is a third one, but it hasn't written itself yet...


Inhumanity - Our Future
by The_Fool ©


She holds up the paper for view
An outline filled within an inch
With lines and curves and circles
Black marks contrasting with the white.
The outline of a paper doll,
Life-size to the girl upon the table.
Each mark is matched upon the girl,
By scars and burns and bruises.
Red marks contrasting with the white.
Lifeless eyes look out upon a world
Knowing little except hunger and pain
Another whipping child
For a parent lost and powerless.
The girl watches listless and uncaring,
Waiting for the next blow to fall
As the nurse rolls up her tracing paper.
Another broken toy.



Inhumanity - Our Past
by The_Fool ©


Discards litter the floral garden
Seated in wheelchairs,
Or moving slowly with walkers.
Don’t look too long into their eyes
Empty of hope, empty of life.

Moans and cries echo through the night
From pain, from memories of pain,
Or pain of memories,
And loneliness.
Cries answered, if at all, with anger.

So soon forgotten by their young
To the cares from day to day
Except one Sunday a month
Maybe.
When all go for their obligatory visit.

Stripped of their privacy,
Medicated into oblivion,
Left to lie in filth and shame,
An embarrassment of uselessness,
Just hurry up and die.

 

[Maria2394]

Dear Fool ...

Powerful words! just wonderous work. I found my poem, I'll post it, but it not a good poem like those I havent read it in a long time, had it hidden away, lol.
~~~~
of tattoos, bridges and pigeons

Home is like a temporary tattoo,
when it's gone you remember-
it was there, on that exact spot
near the patch of freckles
on your left arm. Keep in mind,
should you ever sleep beneath an overpass
and wake to pigeon shit in your face
or matted in your hair, it is only temporary,
but it's nonetheless there.

I was sixteen, baby face
slim waist, no food for days,
and hunger was a rumour, whispered
by hobos I met at the railroad tracks
when I was ten, and that one guy,
the soldier man, dressed in tatters,
eating potted meat I stole
from Momma's kitchen.

And the day I ran away, I felt him,
as he walked with me down Interstate 26,
but that was wishful thinking,
and again I wished him there beside me,
as I slept beneath that bridge.

I imagined him holding me,
stale beer breath and his clothes
smelled like death,
but damn, that bum was warm,
although he should have warned me
what pigeons do when they roost-

It's like they perch there, waiting for you,

And that last ride into Orlando
was a pick-up truck, fisherman
with some catfish stinking.
He said I slept for 200 miles
then he dropped me off .
It was three more days without a bath
before I found a place to stay,


But home was to me, subjective,
like a temporary tattoo-
washable yet indelible,
scarred, burnt in, yet gone.

Good thing pigeons can fly
and sleep where they choose.
No place on a pigeon,
for any type of tattoo.

 

[Tzara]

...like Tzara, i think writing about large subjects tends to trivialize them...

What I meant was that my writing about them would trivialize them. Certainly some people can write about really big themes and make it work. Nelly Sachs and Primo Levi writing about the Holocaust come to mind. The Fuhrer Bunker by W.D. Snodgrass is a poem cycle about Nazism that I think is fabulous.

Of course, Sachs, Levi, and Snodgrass are a bit more talented than I am.

Ay, there's the rub.

Oh. And I think Mr. Rain is someone who could tackle a large subject with the skill to make it work.

 

[flyguy69]

Dear Fool ...

Powerful words! just wonderous work. I found my poem, I'll post it, but it not a good poem like those I havent read it in a long time, had it hidden away, lol.
~~~~
of tattoos, bridges and pigeons

Home is like a temporary tattoo,
when it's gone you remember-
it was there, on that exact spot
near the patch of freckles
on your left arm. Keep in mind,
should you ever sleep beneath an overpass
and wake to pigeon shit in your face
or matted in your hair, it is only temporary,
but it's nonetheless there.

I was sixteen, baby face
slim waist, no food for days,
and hunger was a rumour, whispered
by hobos I met at the railroad tracks
when I was ten, and that one guy,
the soldier man, dressed in tatters,
eating potted meat I stole
from Momma's kitchen.

And the day I ran away, I felt him,
as he walked with me down Interstate 26,
but that was wishful thinking,
and again I wished him there beside me,
as I slept beneath that bridge.

I imagined him holding me,
stale beer breath and his clothes
smelled like death,
but damn, that bum was warm,
although he should have warned me
what pigeons do when they roost-

It's like they perch there, waiting for you,

And that last ride into Orlando
was a pick-up truck, fisherman
with some catfish stinking.
He said I slept for 200 miles
then he dropped me off .
It was three more days without a bath
before I found a place to stay,


But home was to me, subjective,
like a temporary tattoo-
washable yet indelible,
scarred, burnt in, yet gone.

Good thing pigeons can fly
and sleep where they choose.
No place on a pigeon,
for any type of tattoo.

Wow! Maria, that is amazing!

I received a backhanded insult (!) on a poem about a woman in Angola jaded by sights of genocide. A critic complained that I had no right to write that poem, and was further incensed that it was so well-written that gullible readers might think I knew what I was talking about!

 

[Tzara]

Wow! Maria, that is amazing!

I second that.

And would say the same for Eve's and Angeline's poems as well.

 

[Guest]

There are no taboo subjects for me. There are things I'm not interested in writing about, but I don't censor myself on any subject.

Same with me, mon ami.

 

[vampiredust]

whilst there are no taboo subjects that I wouldn't consider writing about, I would hesistate about writing certain things 'cause of personal experiences.

 

[TheRainMan]

the three poems that are mentioned above,

WickedEve's Bread, Angeline's Lodz, and jd4george's Wangui Waithira all succeed, IMO, even though they are about broad issues, for one reason (other than they are beautifully written, which all three are) -- because they are personalized . . . the larger tragedy is shrunken down to one item, one person.

all three are wonderful poetry (and all three writers wonderful poets) -- and they are examples of how a writer's skill can indeed overcome the perils of trying to make a grand statement.



and Tzara, thank you for this:

Oh. And I think Mr. Rain is someone who could tackle a large subject with the skill to make it work.

. . . i certainly think the lessons that can be learned from Eve and Angeline and jd4, and also from Maria in the poem she posted above, would help me, or anyone, tackle a large subject with some style.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

I agree with all the kudos for Eve, Ange and jd4's poems.

I'm embarrassed to include this but it was something that affected me deeply at the time. I still don't think the horror of that child's short life comes across - I just can't draw it.

Jeffrey

My eyes sting
with impotent pain
the outrage and horror
that tears can't cleanse
my mind of and yet
I read and reread
the obscene details
of his short life
his frightful death
no creature least of all
a child should suffer
he was six
just six
and died alone
in a bed so filthy
the large men who came
to take the tiny form away
gagged and wept
so frail was he they feared
his bones might snap
he weighed less than
he had at three
in happier times
I hope his mind went there
to a better place
remembered kindnesses
and childish fun
before he closed his eyes
one

last

time.​

 

[My Erotic Trail]

wso, did you find the poem here on Lit? I didn't think people were allowed to submit this type of writing when it comes to animals or children. I could be wrong, though. If it is on Lit, can you post the link for me please? I'd like to read it.

As far as your question goes (taboo) - I write about almost everything and it usually relates to my life somehow. What's a no-no is admitting it's non-fiction. I don't know if that answers your question or not but maybe somewhat.

I do not recall the poet or the poems title but there is a couple poems of this nature here. Perhaps try a search using key words.

I know that this subject is taboo for lit but I have read a couple of poems that seem to have been about molesting children or the young or innocent. Written to express this with out coming out and saying it. To me that is taboo. I raised three of my nieces who where molested by their father and his friends before they were taken away by CPS. My wife, her mother and I adopted them and raised these girls from the young age of not yet ten, till now, grown and have kids of their own. To me this is a touchy subject and I get upset reading a poem by some one who takes delight in this act. The only mean comment I have ever left on a poem (by my standards <grin) was to a poet that submitted a poem of this type and I wrote how I was in awe that literotica posted it and that he openly admits this mental illness. So yes there are a couple poems of this type that I know of, here at lit.

The other subject that I do not care for... is drugs, those that crave it and openly take delight in expressing how they use them. (They are illegal) I don't really bother with poems about defeating their addiction but the poems that openly express a desire to do them and talk freely about their last encounter with them. I see this as a sign of a weak mind under the influence of a disease that has infested our country (as well as others) I am doing my part to fight in the war against drugs, I have a no tolerance policy when I come across people with them. Point is I think of this topic as taboo or at least I do not write about it or finish a poem that deals in this subject. I did write a poem about some one I knew that was eat up with the madness that drugs instill, but never posted it for I felt it was more of a release of my anger at this person for the things they stole to support their habit, before I...<grin gave them three hots and a cot.

Those two topics are soft spots in my heart, call it taboo? yeah! I don't read them or write them.

 

[Guest]

I do not recall the poet or the poems title but there is a couple poems of this nature here. Perhaps try a search using key words.

I know that this subject is taboo for lit but I have read a couple of poems that seem to have been about molesting children or the young or innocent. Written to express this with out coming out and saying it. To me that is taboo. I raised three of my nieces who where molested by their father and his friends before they were taken away by CPS. My wife, her mother and I adopted them and raised these girls from the young age of not yet ten, till now, grown and have kids of their own. To me this is a touchy subject and I get upset reading a poem by some one who takes delight in this act.

The only mean comment I have ever left on a poem (by my standards <grin) was to a poet that submitted a poem of this type and I wrote how I was in awe that literotica posted it and that he openly admits this mental illness. So yes there are a couple poems of this type that I know of, here at lit.

1st in bold: No, I cannot type in such words. If I read something like that, I don't think I could be nice. It would be hard for me. That I won't deny. Someone may be an excellent writer but what the subject matter is, can be really disgusting. Yeah, I've written some dark poetry but nothing about what we're discussing here.

2nd in bold: Thank you for saving those children. Thumbs up to you!

3rd in bold: You mean? Never.

 

[BooMerengue]

Writing about something I know nothing about is taboo.

Writing in a manner unfamiliar to me (unless it's a challenge) is taboo.

Having particular taboo topics is taboo.

A writer writes about what he knows, and in a way he's comfortable with. Otherwise how do you learn to be a good writer?

What the reader thinks should be, if not immaterial, then at least secondary to the writers end goal. Sure, some write for the Public, but they write for themselves first.






just sayin...

 

[wildsweetone]

sure glad i had the guts to set this thread off. thanks for posting some excellent poetry.

 

[White Warlock]

Tabboo Subjects

sure glad i had the guts to set this thread off. thanks for posting some excellent poetry.

Hi WSO...

I find I can write about most things. But I draw the line at gloryfying violence, child molestation, incest and murder, or even war.

Having read this thread through I agree with WSO. Some good writing, even if its not all my style... (WSO is well aquainted with my style of writing )

If I may be so bold as to post a 'Dark Side' Poem I wrote only the other day...

Evil Eyes

With eyes that give no promises
None that would ever be kept
Betraying all who believed
Into darkest depths are swept

They who hold the keys of doom
Who’s heart is midnight black
Rips the life from the living
Burns bridges so there’s turning back

Who’s chill voice Woo’s the dead
Shall turn fire into ice
Who’ll bleed love from the enchanted
With one breath a heart will slice

In their darkness cast their spell
On those who reply to the call
Turn their hearts to glass
That will shatter at the first fall

Who is this of the darkness?
Who cries for none or shall mourn
Who has no love or compassion
Who fear none but the light of dawn

Their enemy is light of truth
Pure white of the driven snow
Compassion and love will drive them
Deep into the abyss below...

 

[wildsweetone]

Wow! Maria, that is amazing!

I received a backhanded insult (!) on a poem about a woman in Angola jaded by sights of genocide. A critic complained that I had no right to write that poem, and was further incensed that it was so well-written that gullible readers might think I knew what I was talking about!

where is your poem fly?

 

[wildsweetone]

Hi WSO...

I find I can write about most things. But I draw the line at gloryfying violence, child molestation, incest and murder, or even war.
...

Just picking up on your comment White Warlock, I think we can write about those things without 'gloryfying' them though. Just as with other poetry, there are definate skills and it is not until a poem is finished that we know whether we've attained those skills or not.

Having read the poems in here, I am getting an understanding of perspective. I think one way seems to be to nearly ignore the major topic and to simply take slices from it to include in the poem that must contain one person's experience. It would be a skill well worth learning.

If anyone else has some 'big topic' poetry that they'd like to share here, please feel free to post it.