butter's stuff: the good, the ugly, and the incomplete

[butters]

Does enjambment make prose poetry, poetry?

Stéphane Mallarmé seems to think so.

i had to go look - goodness, he hung out with some fab writers in his tuesday soirees. Paul Verlaine is heavily featured in my Faber's Book of Blue Poetry. Do you suppose they'd say their goodbyes with "See you next Tuesday"?

 

[twelveoone]

Does enjambment make prose poetry, poetry?

Stéphane Mallarmé seems to think so.

No
are you talking about Stéphane Mallarmé the french guy?

or are you talking about Stéphane Mallarmé the translated into English?

 

[Epmd607]

No
are you talking about Stéphane Mallarmé the french guy?

or are you talking about Stéphane Mallarmé the translated into English?

My friend, I'm talking about the Frenchman in his native hand.

 

[butters]

ok, it worked. ignore this.

 

[butters]

ok, this came in a very male 1950's english, dry, almost monotone voice

*put it in the right thread. silly me. it can come back here when it's had its face washed*

 

[butters]

uninvited

Dry crumbs in sleep's deep bed of thought,
more plentiful than peas in books
or trolls beneath the bridges, brooked
and ticked and tocked by errant hooves.

They count the clock's infernal beat,
dry crumbs in sleep's deep bed of thought,
then twist and fidget where they ought
to hush and shush and quit their talk.

They dangle days behind your eyes
when just a sweet, brief nap is sought;
dry crumbs in sleep's deep bed of thoughts
those uninvited, petty crooks.

They are the knock where none exists,
the uninvited plague repose;
a million questions they'll suppose,
dry crumbs in sleep's deep bed of thoughts.

 

[butters]

ok, that was an exercise. a head poem. time i wrote something that means ... something.

 

[fridayam]

ok, that was an exercise. a head poem. time i wrote something that means ... something.

I still liked it though, especially the first line

 

[butters]

I still liked it though, especially the first line

shweet, so that means you liked at least 4 lines in my poem.





ty friday

 

[fridayam]

shweet, so that means you liked at least 4 lines in my poem.





ty friday

I wasn't counting

 

[butters]

"Poet"

and should our eyes grow wild upon
this diet of ambrosia and dust;
and should these visions torment us
with howling griefs, outrageous joys the same;
should comfort and distress become
our burn, our greed, our fevered daily bread -
will laurels, earned, be worth the name they say?
or is it, still, a price too high to pay?

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

and should our eyes grow wild upon
this diet of ambrosia and dust;
and should these visions torment us
with howling griefs, outrageous joys the same;
should comfort and distress become
our burn, our greed, our fevered daily bread -
will laurels, earned, be worth the name they say?
or is it, still, a price too high to pay?

Do you just think in poems? With me, sometimes they explode and sometimes they languish on my hard drive forever.

 

[butters]

Do you just think in poems? With me, sometimes they explode and sometimes they languish on my hard drive forever.

aw, don't do tha mad face

sometimes nicely set poetic phrases pop up, and then a poem falls into place about them. here, it was 'and should my eyes grow wild... something something ... milk and honey, no, make that ambrosia and dust' and then off it went.

trouble is, i look at stuff years later and see all manner of ways i could have written it better if only i had a tardis.

 

[butters]

and should our eyes grow wild upon
this diet of ambrosia and dust;
and should these visions torment us
with howling griefs, outrageous joys the same;
should comfort and distress become
our burn, our greed, our fevered daily bread -
will laurels, earned, be worth the name they say?
or is it, still, a price too high to pay?

revised to:

"Poet"

and should our eyes grow wild upon
this diet of ambrosia and dust,

and should these visions torment us
with howling griefs, outrageous joys the same;

should comfort and distress become
our burn, our greed, our fevered daily bread -

will laurels, earned, be worth the name they say?
or is it, still, a price too high to pay?

 

[theognis]

revised to:

"Poet"

and should our eyes grow wild upon
this diet of ambrosia and dust,

and should these visions torment us
with howling griefs, outrageous joys the same;

should comfort and distress become
our burn, our greed, our fevered daily bread -

will laurels, earned, be worth the name they say?
or is it, still, a price too high to pay?

Excellent revision. Spacing is so important.

 

[butters]

Excellent revision. Spacing is so important.

it's all thanks to Angeline, as usual

 

[butters]

just adding these to the store cupboard - both inspired by the same picture

Pulitzer

vulture shuffles,
circumnavigates a husk
foetal in a barren field,
one eye on the prize.







through a

lens, darkly
a father
tears himself apart

"a picture speaks louder..."
leaves him emptier
than hollow awards

 

[butters]

an acorn falls
on frozen ground
a squirrel twitches

 

[butters]

saving Grace


he sang a sprawl of stars
to glitter in her desert
fooled jerichos the rains had come
counted grains of sand
named each a world
painted a vortex
on her sole
a bird upon her throat
with hope
she'd find her sea again

 

[vrosej10]

an acorn falls
on frozen ground
a squirrel twitches

I love this but my first thought was a squirrel with a neurological disorder. LMAO right now, tears welling up in my eyes. Sorry Chip, I am kinda perverse...

 

[vrosej10]

saving Grace


he sang a sprawl of stars
to glitter in her desert
fooled jerichos the rains had come
counted grains of sand
named each a world
painted a vortex
on her sole
a bird upon her throat
with hope
she'd find her sea again

This one is just lovely. Smooth moves Chip.

 

[butters]

I love this but my first thought was a squirrel with a neurological disorder. LMAO right now, tears welling up in my eyes. Sorry Chip, I am kind perverse...

hehehehehehe - i see it
mebbe it's a nervous squirrel! had too many acorns dropped in its nut as a squirrel-kit....

'course, i meant more a twitch in its sleep, that alert part of its brain telling it there's rich pickings to plunder.


perverse away, m'dear!

 

[butters]

This one is just lovely. Smooth moves Chip.

aw, ta muchly. i've subbed this one today.

 

[vrosej10]

hehehehehehe - i see it
mebbe it's a nervous squirrel! had too many acorns dropped in its nut as a squirrel-kit....

'course, i meant more a twitch in its sleep, that alert part of its brain telling it there's rich pickings to plunder.


perverse away, m'dear!

I got squirrel with nervous tick. Everytime I think of this, I start laughing to tears well up. YOu've made my day totally!

 

[butters]

I got squirrel with nervous tick. Everytime I think of this, I start laughing to tears well up. YOu've made my day totally!

if i put a smile on yer face and a giggle in yer heart, i count it a day well-spent.

*security! come get this one... i think she got away *