Poetry Blurty

[Senna Jawa]

a trivial transformation

For the past several years, PF&D used to be just another of many pseudo-poetic groups. Now PF&D is turning into an anti-poetic group.

 

[butters]

For the past several years, PF&D used to be just another of many pseudo-poetic groups. Now PF&D is turning into an anti-poetic group.

perhaps you'd feel happier at another site?

 

[Senna Jawa]

perhaps you'd feel happier at another site?

You, butters, you are so rude again.

People, she has no right to talk like this, no right; butters' talking and actions are so ugly(!). Butters makes this PF&D ugly, anti-poetic. In particular, she's hypocritically abusing the idea of politeness, and you buy this ugly BS of her somehow.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

You, butters, you are so rude again.

People, she has no right to talk like this, no right; butters' talking and actions are so ugly(!). Butters makes this PF&D ugly, anti-poetic. In particular, she's hypocritically abusing the idea of politeness, and you buy this ugly BS of her somehow.

I see nothing rude, in fact it was a polite observation.

 

[butters]

I see nothing rude, in fact it was a polite observation.

it was a polite expression of my exasperation with his bitching and moaning about this poetry forum, its moderators and members. he spends so many words complaining about how it is here that i honestly cannot understand why he stays - and (if they'd have him) another site might suit his expectations better.

as for rudeness, he seems quite oblivious to his own which has been expressed to lots of writers posting here.

ah well

 

[Senna Jawa]

Pf&d & Sj

I see nothing rude, [...]

UYS, you should know better.

In the years 2000 and 2001, the PF&D group was small. It was nice until a woman and a man had joined in October and November of 2001. They had appointed themselves as poetry professionals whose opinion had to be respected not due to the merit but because they played authorities, so everybody else was supposed to listen on their knees. That's how it was when Angeline has joined PF&D in March of 2002. It has changed when I've joined 2 months later, May 2002. Those two early participants had quietly faded away. Today, am I right? the only participant of our group, who joined in 2002 is champagne1982 on August 30, 2002. There is nobody here from the years 2000 or 2001. Thus, there are just the three of us from y2002.

All three of us have contributions to this group while Angeline gets also (and especially ) official recognition. Nevertheless, I have clearly over 300 poems in my Lit archive -- there are not many who had or have more. Of course, smithpeter (RIP) published more poems than anybody, already just under this nickname, and had many more under different nicknames.

I even participated, just one time but won anyway, in a Literotica yearly poetic competition. Our Angeline won a bunch of them but nevertheless, anybody, watch your mouth before you spill your rudeness around.

For these (and other reasons), this PD&F group is mine. Anybody, you are extremely rude to tell someone what s/he should do. Such rudeness should be unthinkable. Such rude individuals should be concerned with their own bloody business. But such people, in their "polite" smelly gloves, are rude, and their gloves are infected by their disrespectful attitude, ugh!

I was in good old days recognized, also by Angeline, for my literary critics. Actually, in a way my critics is unique since I shared my original literary discoveries. It's rude when someone like buttress attempts to nullify it, and puts it down, she's rude. I was also was sharing the experience of Polish and Russian poetry, not to mention Chinese, Japanese, and skaldic. Thus, it's extremely rude when someone in return spills BS with their what they think as clever small linguistic disgusting tricks -- well, they fool people because people love BS.

In one way this PF&D is more mine than anybody else -- for the simple reason that I was always under my real name, Włodzimierz Holsztyński, as displayed in my Literotica account. I was known as Senna Jawa outside Literotica anyway, and people knew well that Włodzimierz Holsztyński = Senna Jawa. I have paid for my honesty and openness, both within PF&D and outside -- dishonest people were taking advantage of my straight stand (ok, dust to dust, no big deal). Thus -- you dirty cowards -- don't tell me that I should leave. Take your ugly advice and stuff it into your own whatever you choose, just keep your dirt to yourself.

***********

It's so sad -- we could achieve poetically a lot around here. All these unfortunate and so stifling things are truly unfortunate. That's the prize for people acting small. I don't know if it will make anybody happy to know that such regrettable things happen about everywhere around the world, in every human domain and activity. Literotica is not too bad.

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

UYS, you should know better.

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

 

[Senna Jawa]

Different thread organization.

UYS, you should know better.

I forgot about something basic for PF&D, which I've introduced here, but it's not on any other pseudo-poetic groups.

Nobody has recognized this, it has never occurred to anybody to pay attention, but nevertheless, it took me some first months on PF&D, and a lot of psychic energy and this stays to this day, hopefully, it will last for long.

On other Internet groups, threads are simply classified by their topics. That's all. But at PF&D we have a more subtle thread classification. On some occasions, given a topic or a theme, our posts are sent to two different threads, started by some participants, where one thread is supposed to be strictly meritorious, and the other thread is allowed to be more social. On top of it, when 30/30 was started by neunurotic, I have started a companion thread where both threads were meritorious. It's still the same idea of introducing more than one thread for a topic.

I can't be sure about the whole of today's Internet, as I would be in the early Internet days, but at PF&D that's what has happened. At least I won this one battle against BS.

 

[butters]

ohhhhhh, he OWNSSSSSS it. i get it.

 

[butters]

spams the board
with ancient writes
flings slurs and demands--
some petulant, un-crowned king--
insists the castle's keys are his
then frets and spumes
from self-erected tower

it might be more poetic
to bend his head
curb outrageous ego
pick up his pen and write from fresh
brow unadorned by precious gems
his purpled clothes invisible

 

[butters]

is that rude? it was meet gristle for a poem

[meat/meet/gristle ... spam? made sense to me ]

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Enough!! This is NOT your forum, neither do you have any right to slander the participants in it. As a Mod I suppose I have to watch my mouth, but man you are testing my patience!
Actually I vote that nobody speaks to/or mentions Senna again. Let him ramble on in his own little world. Everyone else can block him, unfortunately I can't.

 

[butters]

Enough!! This is NOT your forum, neither do you have any right to slander the participants in it. As a Mod I suppose I have to watch my mouth, but man you are testing my patience!
Actually I vote that nobody speaks to/or mentions Senna again. Let him ramble on in his own little world. Everyone else can block him, unfortunately I can't.

looks like he's developed a taste for spam

 

[cascadiabound]

[snip]
For these (and other reasons), this PD&F group is mine. Anybody, you are extremely rude to tell someone what s/he should do.
[snip]

I was in good old days recognized, also by Angeline, for my literary critics. Actually, in a way my critics is unique since I shared my original literary discoveries. [snip]

In one way this PF&D is more mine than anybody else -- for the simple reason that I was always under my real name, Włodzimierz Holsztyński, as displayed in my Literotica account. I was known as Senna Jawa outside Literotica anyway, and people knew well that Włodzimierz Holsztyński = Senna Jawa.
[snip]

Senna. seriously? This forum is YOURS?
I really do not care how long you have been here, longeviety counts for little or nothing around here. Post, interact, grow a thicker skin, behave your own damn self as I see you calling *rude* at the least little push back or questioning of your authority.
We ALL bring something to this forum and we are all equals here. Perhaps not equal in talent, or equal in experiences, but each of our voices is of equal worth none-the-less.
Your pontificating over the way things used to be, your own literary accomplishments here are boring as shit.
No doubt there are lots of people here and on Lit in general who have had accomplishments af great merit that we are not inclined to blow our own horns over.
It may be well and good for you to present yourself with your real name. Good for you. The fact that most people here are unable or unwilling to do that to protect our professional status or other things gives you no greater standing than any other.

You have useful things to offer, but your voice is not of greater importance than, for instance mine, or Mrtenant's.

I note as well that you sometimes bemoan the fact there are not as many posters here as in the past, however, your uninvited critical analysis has sent at least one new poet scampering back into her corner, never to post here again. You have no idea of the potential impact of your words. Look to yourself before you go after others.

 

[butters]

happy easter, spring break, and whatever else y'all may call this time to celebrate spring's arrival!

beautiful, beautiful day today - low 70's, blue skies, green grass, so many things in bloom, wildlife out and about, birds singing ... a good day to be alive

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Senna Jawa is taking a forced vacation from the board, whether he will be allowed back I've no idea ..... Your Mods work selflessly in the background

 

[UnderYourSpell]

happy easter, spring break, and whatever else y'all may call this time to celebrate spring's arrival!

beautiful, beautiful day today - low 70's, blue skies, green grass, so many things in bloom, wildlife out and about, birds singing ... a good day to be alive

The same to you and everyone else, it's the hottest Easter on record here today, middle of the Summer weather pheeewww

 

[Angeline]

I discovered this poet yesterday. I'm in love!

Rain
By Anzhelina Polonskaya
(Translated by Andrew Wachtel)

The rain came down all day.
The drops clattered against the iron benches
and Chekhov, ill, sitting on some sort of old-fashioned sofa,
came to mind.
That long day I never got out of bed.
I felt weighed down by the sleeping pill, like a cloud.
There's a limit to everything, it seemed to me.
But love passed and even yearning faded,
like a jackal baring her teeth in anticipation.
In sum, nothing remained — just my room.
The rain poured down it got dark.
And suddenly the whistle of a night train slashed through me
and I started to cry.
Because words can't say it.

 

[todski28]

I discovered this poet yesterday. I'm in love!

Rain
By Anzhelina Polonskaya
(Translated by Andrew Wachtel)

The rain came down all day.
The drops clattered against the iron benches
and Chekhov, ill, sitting on some sort of old-fashioned sofa,
came to mind.
That long day I never got out of bed.
I felt weighed down by the sleeping pill, like a cloud.
There's a limit to everything, it seemed to me.
But love passed and even yearning faded,
like a jackal baring her teeth in anticipation.
In sum, nothing remained — just my room.
The rain poured down it got dark.
And suddenly the whistle of a night train slashed through me
and I started to cry.
Because words can't say it.

This is brilliant!

 

[Angeline]

This is brilliant!

I know! It's basic and lush at the same time. And I so feel the exquisite frustration of that last line.

She writes in Russian so kudos to that translator. There's not a lot of her poetry in translation available online, but some and I believe this poem is from a collection published in English. I'm trying to find a copy of it. I really like the way she writes.

 

[Angeline]

Lover
Ada Limón - 1976-


Easy light storms in through the window, soft
edges of the world, smudged by mist, a squirrel’s

nest rigged high in the maple. I’ve got a bone
to pick with whomever is in charge. All year,

I’ve said, You know what’s funny? and then,
Nothing, nothing is funny. Which makes me laugh

in an oblivion-is-coming sort of way. A friend
writes the word lover in a note and I am strangely

excited for the word lover to come back. Come back
lover, come back to the five and dime. I could

squeal with the idea of blissful release, oh lover,
what a word, what a world, this gray waiting. In me,

a need to nestle deep into the safe-keeping of sky.
I am too used to nostalgia now, a sweet escape

of age. Centuries of pleasure before us and after
us, still right now, a softness like the worn fabric of a nightshirt

and what I do not say is, I trust the world to come back.
Return like a word, long forgotten and maligned

for all its gross tenderness, a joke told in a sun beam,
the world walking in, ready to be ravaged, open for business

 

[Piscator]

Lover
Ada Limón - 1976-


Easy light storms in through the window, soft
edges of the world, smudged by mist, a squirrel’s

nest rigged high in the maple. I’ve got a bone
to pick with whomever is in charge. All year,

I’ve said, You know what’s funny? and then,
Nothing, nothing is funny. Which makes me laugh

in an oblivion-is-coming sort of way. A friend
writes the word lover in a note and I am strangely

excited for the word lover to come back. Come back
lover, come back to the five and dime. I could

squeal with the idea of blissful release, oh lover,
what a word, what a world, this gray waiting. In me,

a need to nestle deep into the safe-keeping of sky.
I am too used to nostalgia now, a sweet escape

of age. Centuries of pleasure before us and after
us, still right now, a softness like the worn fabric of a nightshirt

and what I do not say is, I trust the world to come back.
Return like a word, long forgotten and maligned

for all its gross tenderness, a joke told in a sun beam,
the world walking in, ready to be ravaged, open for business

Damn, it's even harder to write after reading these. But at the same time so inspiring.

 

[Youroldscotsman]

Lover
Ada Limón - 1976-


Easy light storms in through the window, soft
edges of the world, smudged by mist, a squirrel’s

nest rigged high in the maple. I’ve got a bone
to pick with whomever is in charge. All year,

I’ve said, You know what’s funny? and then,
Nothing, nothing is funny. Which makes me laugh

in an oblivion-is-coming sort of way. A friend
writes the word lover in a note and I am strangely

excited for the word lover to come back. Come back
lover, come back to the five and dime. I could

squeal with the idea of blissful release, oh lover,
what a word, what a world, this gray waiting. In me,

a need to nestle deep into the safe-keeping of sky.
I am too used to nostalgia now, a sweet escape

of age. Centuries of pleasure before us and after
us, still right now, a softness like the worn fabric of a nightshirt

and what I do not say is, I trust the world to come back.
Return like a word, long forgotten and maligned

for all its gross tenderness, a joke told in a sun beam,
the world walking in, ready to be ravaged, open for business

Oh this is so good, I so wish I could string together prose as good as this.

 

[Angeline]

Oh this is so good, I so wish I could string together prose as good as this.

So do I! I read it this morning and had to share it here.

I often think poetry is another language that, at its best, speaks beyond what one understands with intellect. This poem seems a good example of that to me.

 

[Angeline]

Jazzy Double-Dactyl (2015)

Higgledy-piggledy
jazz is implicitly
running like bluesblood through
my ev'ry vein.
Could it be possible
genealogical
data might prove it's some
ancestral strain?

 

[oggbashan]

Tea at Ten Downing Street

If asked to tea at Number ten
Make sure you know just when
Because if during lockdown
You will meet many a frown

You will be on the TV going in
Because sometimes it is a sin
And yet again when going out
At you the BBC will shout

Better far to decline the tea
Instead of being on TV
Vilified for a simple act
You’ll wish you had more tact

If you’ll take advice from me
Nothing is worth a cup of tea
It your career with certainly end
And leave you without a friend

So if invited to Number ten
Think hard and then again
You know that people will see
Far more than a simple cup of tea.

Is it an illegal lockdown party?
Or just an occasion to be hearty
Better yet far away to stay
Than be savaged by Mrs May.