Poetry Blurty

[Angeline]

It's rough all over; yes it's true
Your PM seems a piece of poo
While in the States we've lost our mind:
One-third of us you'll sadly find
Have given up science and fact,
Behaving like their heads are cracked
And folks like me can flush all day,
But that orange turd won't float away.

 

[Winter_Fare]

Perhaps we can make them build a starship and fuck off into the sun.

 

[Angeline]

Perhaps we can make them build a starship and fuck off into the sun.

If only we could!

 

[Tzara]

Context is everything

It's rough all over; yes it's true
Your PM seems a piece of poo
While in the States we've lost our mind:
One-third of us you'll sadly find
Have given up science and fact,
Behaving like their heads are cracked
And folks like me can flush all day,
But that orange turd won't float away.

I happened to read your post before the one by Winter_Fare, and assumed you were reacting to some MAGA-type who had trolled you via private messaging.

Then I read WF's rant about Mr. Johnson.

Oops.

 

[Angeline]

I happened to read your post before the one by Winter_Fare, and assumed you were reacting to some MAGA-type who had trolled you via private messaging.

Then I read WF's rant about Mr. Johnson.

Oops.

It would work that way, too! I should remember that around here "PM" generally does not mean Prime Minister lol.

 

[oggbashan]

It would work that way, too! I should remember that around here "PM" generally does not mean Prime Minister lol.

PM can mean so many things:

On Lit: Private message.

PM: Time after noon.

State after menopause

State after menstruation

etc...

Posts should be precise.

 

[Angeline]

PM can mean so many things:

On Lit: Private message.

PM: Time after noon.

State after menopause

State after menstruation

etc...

Posts should be precise.

Agreed, and I did think of a few of your examples when I responded to Tzara. But as he alluded sometimes context is the key to meaning.

 

[Winter_Fare]

Post mortem... we can only hope.

 

[Tzara]

PM can mean so many things:

On Lit: Private message.

PM: Time after noon.

State after menopause

State after menstruation

etc...

Posts should be precise.

Language is inherently imprecise. Consider the words "biscuit" and "chips" which have very different meanings depending upon whether one is British or American. Context (and the implied assumptions about shared vocabulary) are a major determiner of meaning.

Plus, there's the whole thing about intended ambiguity in poetry. Sometimes one wants one's words to have, or at least suggest, multiple meanings.

So I would argue, Ogg, that your statement "Posts should be precise" might be best applicable to, say, philosophers and logicians. The rest of us might be allowed to be a bit messy with the precision of our speech.

As this entire comment might be construed.

 

[oggbashan]

I can appreciate that poetry can have deeper meanings that are not apparent on first reading. But unintentional ambiguity? I'm not convinced. Poets should choose words very carefully, whatever the form. Any ambiguity should be deliberate.

 

[Tzara]

I can appreciate that poetry can have deeper meanings that are not apparent on first reading. But unintentional ambiguity? I'm not convinced. Poets should choose words very carefully, whatever the form. Any ambiguity should be deliberate.

I would agree that poets should choose words carefully. But poets choose words for effect, not precision of expression. It could be that the sound of the chosen words are important, or the rhythm/meter of the words are important. Or just that the poet wants to startle the reader with some kind of odd image.

Think of Impressionist art. Monet, for example, is not trying to precisely render an image, but instead tries to render something like an impression of what he sees.

Poetry is kind of like this. Precision of speech is, I think as I said previously, the realm of philosophers and logicians. There, saying exactly what one means is important.

I think for the rest of us, that impressionism is more what we're working towards.

 

[Angeline]

Butterfly on a Pin
by Blaga Dimitrova
(Translated by Ludmilla G.Popova-Wightman)

You don’t know real loneliness
if you don’t know closeness.
The road to great solitude
passes through great love.
A measure of the immense
horizon of loneliness
is the embrace from which
you extricate yourself.
Imagine how many times
the narrow circle of this embrace
fits into the cosmic circle of loneliness.
you are impaled exactly in the center—
a live butterfly on a pin.
Wrench yourself out! Try to fly
with the pin piercing your heart.
The space confronting you is boundless.
Freedom has the salty taste of sea
and solitude

 

[Youroldscotsman]

Butterfly on a Pin
by Blaga Dimitrova
(Translated by Ludmilla G.Popova-Wightman)

You don’t know real loneliness
if you don’t know closeness.
The road to great solitude
passes through great love.
A measure of the immense
horizon of loneliness
is the embrace from which
you extricate yourself.
Imagine how many times
the narrow circle of this embrace
fits into the cosmic circle of loneliness.
you are impaled exactly in the center—
a live butterfly on a pin.
Wrench yourself out! Try to fly
with the pin piercing your heart.
The space confronting you is boundless.
Freedom has the salty taste of sea
and solitude

Wow

 

[Angeline]

Anyone else struggling with this update?

I can’t get the groove of it from my phone it just seems so much less than the older version when viewing from your phone,

I really dislike it and it’s making not want to visit

I can't even get on now unless I use my phone in mobile mode. I think y'all just need time to get used to it. Not sure what I'll do though. I can't get around my ISP blocking the site. It used to just block the main site, but since the update it blocks the forum, too.

 

[Lyricalli]

Anyone else struggling with this update?

I can’t get the groove of it from my phone it just seems so much less than the older version when viewing from your phone,

I really dislike it and it’s making not want to visit

At the very bottom of the page, look for a link that says "style chooser" and choose Literotica Classic. I think the default, and what you might be looking at is Literotica Modern, and it's unpleasant for the forums.

 

[Lyricalli]

Sometimes, coincidences make you wonder if they're coincidences at all. Tonight, I was out listening to someone I've heard play before, but not often, and one of the covers he did was "Under the Bridge" by Red Hot Chili Peppers. Hadn't heard that one from him before, and as sometimes happens with covers, you can hear lyrics differently or pick up on things you may not have with a song that gets played a lot when it's on the radio, and you're driving, or doing whatever else.

Then I came home, and there was a new video on YouTube from a channel I've been checking out lately that tells music stories. Tonight's new video was about the song "Under the Bridge." I watched it right away, when normally I might not have. When Anthony Kiedis was asked about this song that he'd jotted down in his notebook but hadn't shared, he told the producer it was just a poem.

So, I decided to share the story, and my funny little route to it, because I thought someone else might want to watch it, too:

 

[Piscator]

At the very bottom of the page, look for a link that says "style chooser" and choose Literotica Classic. I think the default, and what you might be looking at is Literotica Modern, and it's unpleasant for the forums.

Thanks Calli - I too much prefer the 'old' format

 

[Angeline]

Desire
Mary Mackey

in my dreams
I hold my lovers
next to me all at once
and ask them

what was it I desired?

my hands are full
of their heads
like bunches of cut roses
blond hair, brown hair, red, black,
their eyes are pools of bewilderment
staring up at me
from the bouquet

what was it I desired?
I ask again

was it your bodies?
did I hope by draping
your flesh over me
I could escape
boredom
loneliness
gray hairs shooting
towards me
from the future
like thin arrows?
did I think I could escape,
by taking your breath
into my mouth,
did I think I could escape
the responsibility
of breathing?

what did I desire in you?

sex
knowledge?
power?
love?

did I expect the clouds to
crack
and blue moths to fly out of the stars?
did I expect a voice
to call to me
saying
“Here at last is the answer.”

what
I yell at them
shaking my lovers
what did I desire in you?

their ears fall off like petals
they shed their faces
in a pile at my feet
their bewildered eyes
pucker and close
centers of fallen flowers

the last face
floats down
circling in the darkness
at my feet

what did I desire in you? I whisper

the stems of their bodies
dry in my hands

 

[Angeline]

And one more~

The Kama Sutra of Kindness: Position Number 3
By Mary Mackey

It’s easy to love
through a cold spring
when the poles
of the willows
turn green
pollen falls like
a yellow curtain
and the scent of
Paper Whites
clots
the air

but to love for a lifetime
takes talent

you have to mix yourself
with the strange
beauty of someone
else
wake each morning
for 72,000
mornings in
a row so
breathed and
bound and
tangled
that you can hardly
sort out
your arms
and
legs

you have to
find forgiveness
in everything
even ink stains
and broken
cups

you have be willing to move through
life
together
the way the long
grasses move
in a field
when you careen
blindly toward
the other
side

there’s never going to be anything
straight or predictable
about your path
except the
flattening
and the springing
back

you just go on walking for years
hand in hand
waist deep in the weeds
bent slightly forward
like two question
marks
and all the while it
burns
my dear
it burns beautifully above
you
and goes on
burning
like a relentless
sun

Copyright 2006
From “Breaking The Fever

 

[Mrtenant]

Tonight, Tonight

Time is never time at all
You can never ever leave
Without leaving a piece of youth
And our lives are forever changed
We will never be the same
The more you change, the less you feel
Believe
Believe in me
Believe, believe
That life can change
That you're not stuck in vain
We're not the same, we're different
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight, so bright
Tonight
Tonight
And you know you're never sure
But you're sure you could be right
If you held yourself up to the light
And the embers never fade
In your city by the lake
The place where you were born
Believe
Believe in me
Believe, believe
In the resolute urgency of now
And if you believe there's not a chance
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight, so bright
Tonight
Tonight
We'll crucify the insincere tonight
(Tonight)
We'll make things right, we'll feel it all tonight
(Tonight)
We'll find a way to offer up the night
(Tonight)
The indescribable moments of your life
(Tonight)
The impossible is possible tonight
(Tonight)
Believe in me as I believe in you
Tonight
Tonight, tonight
Tonight
Tonight

Songwriters: Billy Corgan

 

[Sexy_Singer]

So there's not a minimum word count for poetry submissions?

 

[Lyricalli]

So there's not a minimum word count for poetry submissions?

@Grant55 First, it's a good idea to check what a thread is about before posting to it. I've moved your post here to Poetry Blurty, which is more a free for all.

I assume your question is about submissions to the story/poetry side of Lit, and I don't believe there is a minimum word count. Not one I've heard about, anyway.

 

[Sexy_Singer]

@Grant55 First, it's a good idea to check what a thread is about before posting to it. I've moved your post here to Poetry Blurty, which is more a free for all.

I assume your question is about submissions to the story/poetry side of Lit, and I don't believe there is a minimum word count. Not one I've heard about, anyway.

I you wanted to chastise, you could have pm'd me

 

[Winter_Fare]

So there's not a minimum word count for poetry submissions?

There isn't a minimum so
It's surprising how low you can go.
A poem can be
Ninety nine words or three
It's the meaning that matters so no.

 

[Lyricalli]

I you wanted to chastise, you could have pm'd me

I don't think a reminder to a grown adult about simple forum etiquette is a chastisement. I moved your post, explained why, and answered your question. Hurt feelings were not my intention.