A Poet Walks Into a Bar . . .

Line by Line - a Potential 12 month Challenge

It would start in In November with 3 line poems (starting small and giving a break to the NaNoWriMoers) and end in October with 14 line poems (which would agree with PFD's sonneters) . Any number of poem and form within the requisite number of lines would be acceptable.

Let me know if you're interested.
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You're off to a good start Fishy, although I get nervous when seeing nano in front of anything. :clamsup:
 
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Poetry Anonymous will never help the truly addicted. Lets have a drink and scribble on the restroom wall.
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enjoying the new art installations, baretender :cool:

that's one of my favourite fishy pieces you've got up right now
 
I'm not very well and it's to do with a long term thing that's never going to get better. Sometimes I'm better than others. Last night I dragged myself on here so as not lose what I'd already done in 30 in 30, so please forgive me if you get all sorts of crap so I don't lose my place until it's done.
 
I'm not very well and it's to do with a long term thing that's never going to get better. Sometimes I'm better than others. Last night I dragged myself on here so as not lose what I'd already done in 30 in 30, so please forgive me if you get all sorts of crap so I don't lose my place until it's done.

We've all been there. Write what you can. I love you. And sometimes when you least expect it, you write something better than you had imagined you might. But either way, you are beloved here. :heart:

And now I must go charge my phone which I have to plug in across the room. I'm in a low tech life these days. :cool:
 
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Think of her and she will appear,
ready to share a covid beer,
then dash. :)
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Annie, :rose:
 
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I'm not very well and it's to do with a long term thing that's never going to get better. Sometimes I'm better than others. Last night I dragged myself on here so as not lose what I'd already done in 30 in 30, so please forgive me if you get all sorts of crap so I don't lose my place until it's done.
hoping for more better than worse days for you, annie :rose:

We've all been there. Write what you can. I love you. And sometimes when you least expect it, you write something better than you had imagined you might. But either way, you are beloved here. :heart:

And now I must go charge my phone which I have to plug in across the room. I'm in a low tech life these days. :cool:
it's always good to see you posting, mz A. :rose:
 
hoping for more better than worse days for you, annie :rose:

it's always good to see you posting, mz A. :rose:

Thanks. It's hard for me to carve out writing time and space these days but I'm trying! Happy Gobble Day to you and the Mister. :heart:
 
We've all been there. Write what you can. I love you. And sometimes when you least expect it, you write something better than you had imagined you might. But either way, you are beloved here. :heart:

And now I must go charge my phone which I have to plug in across the room. I'm in a low tech life these days. :cool:

Love you too sister :heart: and you're higher tech than me, I can't do any of this on my phone!

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Think of her and she will appear,
ready to share a covid beer,
then dash. :)
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Annie, :rose:

hoping for more better than worse days for you, annie :rose:

it's always good to see you posting, mz A. :rose:
Thank you hugs to both :heart:
 
baretender, pour me an english gin
with tonic in to brighten it
so i may raise a glass
to the spirit of this lady
who will always be
right here
signing these walls



to Annie! *toasts*
 
and I've been drinking too much these days, way more than my normal and it feels better than it should
because the hurt tends to numb just a little as each tipple is added

Gm
1201

I think often of these men who helped me write
beyond the scrawling's of a teenager and the always present what happened

and Annie

whose complicated make up was as fragile as it was tough
before she finally went the way of a setting sun

and I wonder still what worth are words cast as stones into a
lake sinking until they're nothing but cold

I guess I'll have a Sambuca straight and a round of melancholy

a toast to the morose thoughts of the inevitability of life

I watched my eldest daughter turn 14 last year...
my eldest boy is 10 tomorrow
my youngest daughter is 2 in a few weeks

and for all they joy and frustrations of parenthood, I worry of the time years in the future when I cant be there, but at the same time hope and pray

my girls become strong and don't need me
and my boys become better men than the man I am and the man I doubt I'll ever be
 
@todski - well said.

I looked up obituary poetry and welll elegy was mentions, Wiki referrs to "a genre of popular verse or folk poetry that had its greatest popularity in the nineteenth century, especially in the United States of America. The genre consists largely of sentimental narrative verse."

You nailed it
 
@todski - well said.

I looked up obituary poetry and well elegy was mentions, Wiki referrs to "a genre of popular verse or folk poetry that had its greatest popularity in the nineteenth century, especially in the United States of America. The genre consists largely of sentimental narrative verse."

You nailed it

Thanks for the reading material

And the praise

As to proper verse it never was my strong suit,

I seem to prefer meandering ramblings that
don’t seem to say a lot, but use a lot of words :D
 
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hey...

Thanks for the reading material

And the praise

As to proper verse it never was my strong suit,

I seem to prefer meandering ramblings that
don’t seem to say a lot, but use a lot of words :D


I have always seen my role as a writer, to write. Not to explain the process.
Not to interpret the meanings of the phrases or explain the particular word choices...
but to just write. Like Cyril Connelly said,
"It is better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self."
 
I have always seen my role as a writer, to write. Not to explain the process.
Not to interpret the meanings of the phrases or explain the particular word choices...
but to just write. Like Cyril Connelly said,
"It is better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self."

I believe I took a self deprecating swing at my own writing not so much explaining the word choices etc, I’ve always done it, part of softening the blow if someone slams it with a harsh critique :D because if I don’t care about it then it can’t hurt or conversely it may be a way of trying to temper my ego... or it could be both.

one of the more interesting characters I’ve ever spoken to 1201 used to say, your job is to get the reader to the end of the page, (paraphrasing here) grab their attention and don’t let go
de-cliche or use cliche in a new and interesting way if you can
don’t waste your readers time
and don’t bore them
And as Annie used to say if you’re writing a form poem you need to stay true to the form
wether it’s verse, or any of the other thousands of forms it could be

Just went to wiki because I’ve never heard of Cyril Connelly and had to chuckle at this passage

“Connolly followed it up with a book of non-fiction, Enemies of Promise (1938), the second half of which is autobiographical. In it he attempted to explain his failure to produce the literary masterpiece that he and others believed that he should have been capable of writing.“

Seems he wrote a book trying to explain his writing, (amusing piece of hypocrisy, but aren’t we all full of that at times, the joy of being human, an emotional- logical creature that thinks it smarter than it is and above its animal instincts and nature)


If you don’t know what literary devices you’re using, or what you’re trying to do, or can’t explain what you’ve written, even if it’s post-hoc rationalisation then how are you supposed to drill down into what your strengths are and the size of your poetic tool box? That doesn’t mean every piece you write should have an authors note explaining the usage of every verbiage but that you should understand them as a writer.

Ok I forgot what and why I was rambling on here...

Oh yeah,

Do you think I wrote the above piece for an audience, as opposed to a self reflection that bore from a moment of weakness and vulnerability?

Lit PFandD may be an “audience” of sorts but unless you’re new or write something halfway decent you don’t get much commentary or response, which is the way the place has worked for a long time

It’s why I still travel these halls judgement and criticism are few and far between I can just write and explore the writing process and have good friends around if I have questions or sometimes even a pat on the back for writing something one of them finds decent.
 
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From my personal absolute beginner's view on poetry, I really appreciate to read about the definitions of different forms and style elements, some advice, tricks, links and, of course, examples. Therefore thanks to everyone passing on a shot glass of critique and a tumbler full of experience.
 
I thought these might be a bit of fun while having a drink or two.


 
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I thought these might be a bit of fun while having a drink or two.



they are!

i'll take a pop at it:

cathy, come home

there was a young orphan, Heathcliff,
adopted yet scorned by the spiffs;
the love of his life
was another man's wife
it all ended badly, forthwith!
 
they are!

i'll take a pop at it:

cathy, come home

there was a young orphan, Heathcliff,
adopted yet scorned by the spiffs;
the love of his life
was another man's wife
it all ended badly, forthwith!

Love it!


this needs its own thread over on the PoBo proper :)

I didn't think to make a thing of it, but could be fun. Coming right up :D
 
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Maybe platters and top shelf can be provided by Harry and Butters from the bar
Chicken nachos and Guinness long as they last for April's warriors,
poets, lovers.
 
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Chicken nachos and Guinness long as they last for April's warriors,
poets, lovers.

Perfect nourishment
for the body
for the soul
for the poet who’s burnt his share of words
sacrificed them on the pyre
of April’s showers
watching as the deciduous plants
leaves crackle and smoke

worlds and seasons apart I’ll toast you
that Guinness
and raise my glass
for words
and writing
present, past
with eyes toward the future
 
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