Quote from: Pica Pica on June 24, 2007, 11:48:05 AM
A good prose writer breaks the rules of syntax and all that. And has the freedom to choose to break the rules of syntax as opposed to poetry when it is a rule of itself.

The bandit is still trying to explain the length of rubber hose.

- as well as the specific density of the bag leading to the hose.

So, prose is free, and poetry is not, is your half-baked (at best) argument.

Nah, I don't buy it, prose is merely very very cheap.

can't say all my arguments are good. (or any possibly)

I think at heart my problem is that a poem seems an elaborate game, where prose is a sustained bit of communication which really can go where it would wish. In the right hands....I would count early forms of writing as prose rather than poetry - the Illiads and Gilgameshes of this world. But maybe that is just cos i want to claim them for my own...

Well neither of them are actually music, but poems come a good deal closer, so I think
I win   

Posted on: June 24, 2007, 02:32:34 PM

---

Quote from: Rebis on June 20, 2007, 08:26:28 PM

Quote
                             Rocketman





"I want to make love to it." – groans

             the scientist

                                who has just designed

               a new missile

and wants nothing less

than to marry it

and live with it forever

in one long euphoric orgasm

to remind him of his genius

(until he can build a better one)



"No artist exists

           whose work is half as great

          as mine is." –

                                             , he moans,

confident that his relationship with truth –

                                        is secure.

   I think it's by 'anomolous'

Took me a while to come round to this, but I realize now what a good pome-thing this here is.

The design of the space conveys with the rhythm of the words, it works. I didn't see it til I heard it.

Quote from: None of the Above on July 18, 2007, 12:53:52 AM

Took me a while to come round to this, but I realize now what a good pome-thing this here is.

The design of the space conveys with the rhythm of the words, it works. I didn't see it til I heard it.

Are you serious?  Or, are you gouging my red & sickened eye (with your tongue)?

       -  nah, it's good, I think...

see, I actually resist poetry, strenuously enough sometimes


  and that whole, ee cummings-style,

              poetry on a page, visual poetry gig -

           I resist that most of all.


  - a lot of it seems to do that to obfuscate the fact

           that it rhythmically sucks, like this one I am making..


your thing appears to work.


(: the critic)


not everyone can do it, as I have just demonstrated.

Thank you, Miss.

I became disgusted
with myself
because
for a long time,
I had lost
my rhythm.

I was trying to write like Steven Crane, but present it as ee.

Maybe it seems okay because the content & the rhythm were first & the form was last.

Form before content can work, but the content is the thing that matters. Empty forms are boring boring boring.  Now excuse me, I have some books to burn.

I almost forgot.  You can do it. You need to ignore the form until you've established a rhythm.  I apologize if I am speaking as if I know something. I have never discussed THE PROCESS with anyone.  Probably I have no idea of what I'm talking about.

I have trouble with the idea of form before content, unless it's - form's - a rhythmic scheme that is based on a very successful improvisation in the first place.

which come to think of it is form and content simultaneously

---

while I'm in full-on critic mode,

(and thanks so much for causing it  )

I might point out that the people who read poetry these days
tend more and more to be the upper-stratified,

ivory-tower intellectumals

and the creator begins to reflect the audience - and vice versa - to the extent of:

more and more, upper-stratified experience is what determines the content -

dinner parties in fine restaurants

elaborate machinations, fancy thoughts, dressed up in fine language

to impress the object, fleeting objects, of desire
guys bu-lshi-ting girls (or guys), trying to 'get lucky'

and what you get is John Ashberry
or Ralph Angel, who is worse...

so burn those two suckers' books down, I won't protest


Posted on: July 19, 2007, 08:25:15 AM

---

I totally would go with:

'I had lost my rhythm' in one line,
I don't like breaking the line at the cadence


(: the teacher)

Okay. Not only will I burn their books, but I will burn them down to. may as well go right to the source of the trouble. [i wish there was a 'mean face' emoticon]

Please try and not make martyrs of mediocrities, though...

is this yer mean face? 

I like the one called 'azn' -

which reads ASIAN:

it's INSCRUTABLE! 

heh

  works for me 

There is this poet; unknown is his name.  Waves flowing through his mind.  Memories crossing mine.


Our First Kiss

A physical manifestation
of the passion
conjured through words written by, hopeful, disconnected lovers
meeting to confirm the reality of repressed feelings and desires.  An urgent, yet brief, expression
of decadent sensations
meant to reveal the validity of desires
communicated but not experienced.

A Pandora's box of intimate secrets
tasted with eager mouths
devoured with reckless abandon
and hinting of the indescribable power contained within.

No other kiss will ever be like it, as the next will feed off the first and become something new and infinitely more powerful, continuing with ever increasing need until the ultimate expression of this emerging ecstasy is experienced, transforming the latent desire into a separate entity of two people merged in a lovers naked embrace.

Unknown Author

**************************************************************



Love in the Making


You touch my hand and my body goes weak
With sweet, gentle motion, your kiss meets my cheek
Your lips search for mine, so soft and so light
And flames of desire burst forth and ignite

Your arms wrap around me, you pull me so tight
My wanting and need, I can no longer fight
My body now quivering with each move you make
With thirst for fullfillment, I tremble and shake

So gentle you are, as I bear you my soul
To have you completely is my burning goal
Like poetry in motion, we search and explore
With desire still building, our passions both soar

With rythm so perfect, each kiss a delight
Our love in the making is a beautiful sight
Our passionate frenzy climbs higher still
As we give up our all, with this need to fullfill

Hearts beating faster, no mountain's too high
With fires now blazing, we soon touch the sky
Our two souls entwining as we melt into one
And euphoric elation has finally began

Wondrous explosions bring moans of pure joy
Satisfaction's unbounded as we wind down our play
Sweet words of, "I love you", you breathe in my ear
Our love in the making, so true and sincere.

Unknown Author



tink

Quote from: Tink on July 21, 2007, 04:15:39 AM

With sweet, gentle motion, your kiss meets my cheek
Your lips search for mine, so soft and so light
And flames of desire burst forth and ignite

oh my. i do believe i am gettin' the vapors!   *fans her neck with her hand*

Quote from: Rebis on July 19, 2007, 10:06:31 AM

I almost forgot.  You can do it. You need to ignore the form until you've established a rhythm. 

nah, F that. If I try to separate 'form' from 'rhythm', then I am truly Rogered. and if it takes any work at all, I'll just pick up my messikin stratocaster or go beat on something instead.

(: the dilettante)

I found the perfect synthesis...

David Baders, One Hundred Great Books In Haiku

For example;

Herodotus Histories

Go tell the spartans-
the persion hordes are fierce and
wear funny slippers


Alexandre Dumas The Count of Monte Cristo

Gallant Avenger.
Egg-dipped cheese sandwich. Thy name
is Monte Cristo

etc..etc...etc


and Finally


"Who dat fine knight be?"
asked the saucy Moorish wench.
"Dat be Ivan, ho."