Non-erotic poetry (that is, Poetry)

[42BelowsBack]

Thanks for the feedback. It was published as a chapter in a collection of essays in “Literature and Sensation” by Cambridge Scholars Publishing in 2008, and of course it was never meant to be the last word on the topic. It’s certainly not The Bill of Rights! It proposes further discussion, so disagreement is part of our DNA, but perhaps, in the spirit of discussion, you could point out what aspect of it you disagreed with and why? Why did the argument fail, or did not quite hit the mark? What did I not consider? @42BelowsBack @SpermFactory

As for applying brevity, how do you think brevity would have have helped, in what way? Did the argument lose its way? What was unnecessary to my argument? @MrMrsMrsMr

Thank you all for reading it!

On Kafka, for the 2025 a poem a week

Unknown Man


diaspora on a street corner


Circa (is Jazz)


My steel strings
EeeeUuuwooo-ah-ah
EeeeUuuwooo-ah-ah

On my Street Corner!
Swollen feet,
boot licks
laceless!

Chika-chicka -Kafka

My stage is
a Box car
Rolling, Cadillac,
Castle.

my geetah EeeeUuuwooo-ah-ah
EeeeUuuwooo-chika-chikahh -Kafka!

A disused train my thought cocoon
hungover the cotton in my mouth
is a disused rail-yard
in my throat this gravel,
-a stream bed singing

EeeeUuuwooo-ah-ah
My fate was never in ahh your rail-car
EeeeUuuwooo-ah-ah

My song slip in a sip of whiskyy
life long my head a miasma,
you put your Judgin
in my tin cup

EeeeUuuwooo-ah-ah

Hunger is ma money thief
mah belly romantist
maa boney hip, flask, in my body
hunger is a mean faced hand
in my body skinny sun burned clock

Chika-chika-Kafka, my steel strings
EeeeUuuwooo-ah-ah

Somewhere on a Street cornah!
Kafka, you were merely standing there.
Momentarily.
Historically.
Forever.

While I was EeeeUuuwooo-there ah-ah
singing illegitimately with you
chicka-chicka Kafka
EeeeUuuwooo-ah-ah

Knee high, to your shoe lace
calling your name, making
my steel string go
EeeeUuuwooo-ah-ah
Chika-chika -Kafka



No 7 of 52. 2025 poem a week challenge

 

[_Land]

The Meeting

She said
I had a firm grip
on the presentation.

Asked if I could
lay it out
one more time
for those in the back
who hadn’t quite
felt the impact.

So I spread the figures
slowly
tongue pressed to teeth
and walked her
through every rise
and drop.

She gasped
the margins were tighter
than she expected.
She wasn’t sure
she could handle
this much
growth
without adjustments.

I offered
to go deeper
into the data.
She bit her pen.

“Please,”
she whispered.
“I want the full spread.”

Her assistant blushed
when I mentioned
bottom lines.
Someone dropped a folder.
Papers spilled
like secrets.
No one bent to gather them.

By the time we wrapped,
her blouse was wrinkled
from leaning in
too close.

And I
needed
a shower
before the next call.

 

[WCSGarland]

Okay, so this non-erotic poem is already published. It's gotten one vote - one star. Is it as bad as that one vote indicates?

 

[_Land]

Okay, so this non-erotic poem is already published. It's gotten one vote - one star. Is it as bad as that one vote indicates?

It's a bit hard on the tongue, it could just be the format. but remember this is literotica not poetry monthly.... I wouldn't rate it a one, but I wouldn't give it 5 either. You have other works I enjoy a lot better. IMHO.

I had someone who was offended by the subject matter one star and comment that they didn't like 'this" at all, someone else gave it 5 stars....

Same guy one stared my poem for Laura Nyro and said it wasn't original and subtly called it plaguerism..... He comments on a lot of poetry..... Must be his full time job ..... Lol

The point is don't worry to much on the ratings..... Your not, and your poetry isn't meant to be every one's cup of tea


_Land

 

[WCSGarland]

It's a bit hard on the tongue, it could just be the format. but remember this is literotica not poetry monthly.... I wouldn't rate it a one, but I wouldn't give it 5 either. You have other works I enjoy a lot better. IMHO.

I had someone who was offended by the subject matter one star and comment that they didn't like 'this" at all, someone else gave it 5 stars....

Same guy one stared my poem for Laura Nyro and said it wasn't original and subtly called it plaguerism..... He comments on a lot of poetry..... Must be his full time job ..... Lol

The point is don't worry to much on the ratings..... Your not, and your poetry isn't meant to be every one's cup of tea


_Land

Yeah, the format is a bit complicated. Perhaps too complicated for some. My wife said it reminded her of some existentialist poetry from the 60's... just the kind of stuff she'd expect from me. Thanks dear?

 

[_Land]

Yeah, the format is a bit complicated. Perhaps too complicated for some. My wife said it reminded her of some existentialist poetry from the 60's... just the kind of stuff she'd expect from me. Thanks dear?

Don't feel to bad I wrote seasoned veterans for my wife's love affair with salt and pepper shakers......

She wasn't impressed either

 

[Angeline]

Okay, so this non-erotic poem is already published. It's gotten one vote - one star. Is it as bad as that one vote indicates?

I agree with Land: I wouldn't be too concerned about one-votes at Lit, at least not on poems. People vote the way they do for all kinds of reasons as I'm sure you know. They don't like you, they want their friend to get a better score and on and on. I've had poems that were on the top list one-bombed into oblivion. I trust feedback I get here way more than votes.

I did vote though and gave the poem a 4 though in my mind it's more like a 3.75 or so. It's not "bad"; you write well, good flow and word choices. The problem I see is twofold. First, the lines are long so it's a lot to get through, especially given that it's so abstract. And this being Lit most readers won't be so interested. Second is that abstract topic. I think I understand the poem and there are plenty of poets who write abstract, vague or convoluted poems that are considered great. But I think most readers prefer poetry that's more concrete and narrative. It's not a matter of good or bad imo, but what the average reader prefers.

That's just my opinion.

 

[WCSGarland]

@_Land & @Angeline
Thank you both for the feedback.

 

[melimelissa]

I agree with Land: I wouldn't be too concerned about one-votes at Lit, at least not on poems. People vote the way they do for all kinds of reasons as I'm sure you know. They don't like you, they want their friend to get a better score and on and on. I've had poems that were on the top list one-bombed into oblivion. I trust feedback I get here way more than votes.

I did vote though and gave the poem a 4 though in my mind it's more like a 3.75 or so. It's not "bad"; you write well, good flow and word choices. The problem I see is twofold. First, the lines are long so it's a lot to get through, especially given that it's so abstract. And this being Lit most readers won't be so interested. Second is that abstract topic. I think I understand the poem and there are plenty of poets who write abstract, vague or convoluted poems that are considered great. But I think most readers prefer poetry that's more concrete and narrative. It's not a matter of good or bad imo, but what the average reader prefers.

That's just my opinion.

Concrete poetry may fall from heights,
That can feel Promethean: quiet
Critique may provoke
Thoughts of a sugar coat,
If base feedback does not cause a riot...

Complex ideas are just not the goal:
Convoluted verse does take a toll,
Simplicity's designed
To behead the "best" line,
Spiking it on a feudal, wood pole...

Though to represent fine metaphors,
So delivery's true, clear and sure,
You must grease the spike,
And row boats (through the night)
To rescue dead dreams "best" before..

Harsh critics chuck them in the drink,
In hopes (like Moore's head) they will shrink
From living memory,
As doggerel stays key,
With shite writing, (phewfff), saved from the brink...

Méli

 

[SpermFactory]

Concrete poetry may fall from heights,
That can feel Promethean: quiet
Critique may provoke
Thoughts of a sugar coat,
If base feedback does not cause a riot...

Complex ideas are just not the goal:
Convoluted verse does take a toll,
Simplicity's designed
To behead the "best" line,
Spiking it on a feudal, wood pole...

Though to represent fine metaphors,
So delivery's true, clear and sure,
You must grease the spike,
And row boats (through the night)
To rescue dead dreams "best" before..

Harsh critics chuck them in the drink,
In hopes (like Moore's head) they will shrink
From living memory,
As doggerel stays key,
With shite writing, (phewfff), saved from the brink...

Méli

Oooo Daddy ooooO

 

[SpermFactory]

@_Land & @Angeline
Thank you both for the feedback.

Oooo Daddy oooo,

Was it good for you?
Did ya words get off?
You wrote it for who?
5 hairy stars? Cum git
sum. Pubs blows. We
suck. Stick it in forums.

️️️️️

 

[_Land]

Concrete poetry may fall from heights,
That can feel Promethean: quiet
Critique may provoke
Thoughts of a sugar coat,
If base feedback does not cause a riot...

Complex ideas are just not the goal:
Convoluted verse does take a toll,
Simplicity's designed
To behead the "best" line,
Spiking it on a feudal, wood pole...

Though to represent fine metaphors,
So delivery's true, clear and sure,
You must grease the spike,
And row boats (through the night)
To rescue dead dreams "best" before..

Harsh critics chuck them in the drink,
In hopes (like Moore's head) they will shrink
From living memory,
As doggerel stays key,
With shite writing, (phewfff), saved from the brink...

Méli

Ah yes poetry’s gallows sport:
Where verses swing short of the port,
And critics in wigs
Throw literary figs
At lines that dare dance out of court.

I brought a haiku to a duel
Where limericks reigned and rhyme ruled.
The sonnet took fright,
Villanelles died of spite,
And blank verse was mocked as a fool.

Still, we row on, oar by cliché,
Through meterless fog and wordplay,
With metaphor oiled,
And irony boiled,
Serving satire on silvered cliché.

So let them hurl pomp from their perch
We pen from the pew, not the church.
For wit is a thief,
Stealing structure for grief,
Then laughing while burning the verse.

 

[_Land]

They came armed with rhyme
I unsheathed five-seven-five
and left the field hushed.

 

[melimelissa]

Ah yes poetry’s gallows CAN sport:
Verses THAT swing short of the port,
And critics in wigs
Throw literaL figs
At lines that dare dance out of court.

I brought a haiku to a duel
Where limericks reigned and rhyme ruled.
The sonnetS took fright,
Villanelles died of spite,
And blank verse was mocked as a fool.

Still, we row on, oar by cliché,
Through meterless fog and wordplay,
With metaphor oiled,
And irony boiled,
Serving SILVERED satire LIKE COSTLY PATÉ.

So let them hurl pomp from their perch
We pen from the pew, not the church.
For wit is a thief,
Stealing structure for grief,
Then laughing while burning the WORST.

A cliché's well-worn; so I feel
You're unfair and reckless in claims,
Marrying unearthed past to fresh verse,
It's hardly repeating old aims;

If you disagree, then you're wrong: and I'll mock
Baseless tries to do these verses down,
I appreciate that some will knock
Tedious crumpled rags, badly sewn...

Into Kennedy measles - MAGA fools,
Who, cluelessly, forget parody,
Of healthy living, depressing, uncool:
Fluoride loss rots humility...

(In sum)

I equate returned Tudor head* - see
Post axe in hard-worked poetry.

*of STM - see recent press

Méli
----
PS: I reserve the right to be justifiably annoyed at your stupid piss take.
You really do owe me an apology - so grovel in verse that actually scans. if you can
(see my corrections in UC to your lazy scrawled limericks above ) -

All good poetry - even humble limericks - needs attention to detail and proper scansion to be worth setting down, regardless of content.

PPS: I'm not really annoyed - but please think before you piss on others' work in your enthusiasm for decrying rubbish writing.

Méli

 

[melimelissa]

They came armed with rhyme
I unsheathed five-seven-five
and left the field hushed.

truly following
the correct haiku metre
might justify hush

(your silent (ed) syllables queered the pitch for me a little)
Though your content is far better than my hysteria

Méli

 

[_Land]

A cliché's well-worn; so I feel
You're unfair and reckless in claims,
Marrying unearthed past to fresh verse,
Is hardly repeating old aims;

If you disagree you are wrong: I will mock
Such baseless fries to do verses down,
I appreciate that some will knock
Tedious rags, so badly sewn...

Into Kennedy measles - MAGA fools,
Who, cluelessly, forget parody,
Of healthy living, depressing - uncool
Fluoride loss rots humility...

(In sum)

I equate returned (STM) head
Post axe in a hard-worked poetic thread.



----
PS: I reserve the right to be annoyed at your stupid piss take.
You really do owe me an apology - so grovel in verse that actually scans if you can
(see my corrections in UC to your lazy scrawling above)

PPS: I'm not really annoyed - but please think before you piss on others' work in your enthusiasm for decrying rubbish writing.

Méli

Oh but satire wears many a face
some drunk, some divine, some debased.
To mock is an art, not a tantrum, dear friend,
and parody’s punch must land at the end.

You speak of cliché with a scholar’s disdain,
yet dress rebuttals in yesterday’s chain.
History’s threads, when stitched with new flame,
burn louder than those who just curse the frame.

Let Kennedy cough in his chlorine-free sleep,
let fools take their fluoride out with their teeth
we’ll sip irony sharp from chalices cracked,
and duel with quills where dull minds retract.

_Land

 

[_Land]

truly following
the correct haiku metre
might justify hush

(your silent (ed) syllables queered the pitch for me a little)
Though your content is far better than my hysteria

Méli

Ah, but silence bites
its syllables wear soft shoes
and dance past your count.

Thanks for hysteria
she lit the hush with spotlight,
then bowed out mid-line.

 

[melimelissa]

Oh but satire wears many a face
some drunk, some divine, some debased.
To mock is an art, not a tantrum, dear friend,
and parody’s punch must land at the end.

You speak of cliché with a scholar’s disdain,
yet dress rebuttals in yesterday’s chain.
History’s threads, when stitched with new flame,
burn louder than those who just curse the frame.

Let Kennedy cough in his chlorine-free sleep,
let fools take their fluoride out with their teeth
we’ll sip irony sharp from chalices cracked,
and duel with quills where dull minds retract.

_Land

You still owe me an apology you graceless excuse of a human being - it's not a tantrum - it is manners!

 

[_Land]

You still owe me an apology you graceless excuse of a human being - it's not a tantrum - it is manners!

Would you prefer that apology in spankings or satire?

 

[melimelissa]

Would you prefer that apology in spankings or satire?

fuck off and die you troll

 

[_Land]

A cliché's well-worn; so I feel
You're unfair and reckless in claims,
Marrying unearthed past to fresh verse,
It's hardly repeating old aims;

If you disagree, then you're wrong: and I'll mock
Baseless tries to do these verses down,
I appreciate that some will knock
Tedious crumpled rags, badly sewn...

Into Kennedy measles - MAGA fools,
Who, cluelessly, forget parody,
Of healthy living, depressing, uncool:
Fluoride loss rots humility...

(In sum)

I equate returned Tudor head* - see
Post axe in hard-worked poetry.

*of STM - see recent press

Méli
----
PS: I reserve the right to be justifiably annoyed at your stupid piss take.
You really do owe me an apology - so grovel in verse that actually scans. if you can
(see my corrections in UC to your lazy scrawled limericks above ) -

All good poetry - even humble limericks - needs attention to detail and proper scansion to be worth setting down, regardless of content.

PPS: I'm not really annoyed - but please think before you piss on others' work in your enthusiasm for decrying rubbish writing.

Méli

So first and foremost, everything I wrote was pure satire.... No real critique not commentary on your writing .... As a matter of fact the original response is somewhat harmonic to your original ! I agreed with your thoughts and liked the poem. I was inspired to respond... I'm sorry

I actually read every single one of your poems.... And have one waiting to post I wrote for you ...

So please forgive me if my satire was taken seriously.

 

[_Land]

When a Poet Makes an Ass of Himself
Land, asshat that he is

I got drunk on rhythm, bold and tight,
Thought every line I dropped was right.
Wore wit like armor, sharp and clean,
And stabbed at silence, cold and mean.

Mistook my volume for a vow,
Chased truth with words I don’t know how.
Wrapped ego in a clever turn,
Lit matches just to watch them burn.

Called it craft—some noble art,
But all I did was miss your heart.
So here I stand with nothing left
But rhyme and breath and self-bereft.

Forgive me not for what I wrote,
But for the pain between each note.


Sorry @melimelissa

 

[WCSGarland]

FLUTTER BY BUTTERFLY

Flutter by, butterfly,
For beauty is thy name.
Flutter by, butterfly,
Survival is thy game.

Flutter by, butterfly,
For life is very free.
Flutter by, butterfly,
Freedom is known by thee.

 

[WCSGarland]

COYOTE

Coyote tries to swallow the moon tonight,
Hoping to steal my sense of sight,
And watches me from beyond my vision,
And fashions my world of indecision.

Coyote grins when I try to speak,
Using my voice and words to sneak,
Behind my back to make me a clown,
One day I will catch and throw him down.

 

[_Land]

COYOTE

Coyote tries to swallow the moon tonight,
Hoping to steal my sense of sight,
And watches me from beyond my vision,
And fashions my world of indecision.

Coyote grins when I try to speak,
Using my voice and words to sneak,
Behind my back to make me a clown,
One day I will catch and throw him down.

Love this WCS!!



Intended or not this is what that inspired,

Meep meep!

Road Runner

You blur-born bastard of sunstroke speed,
you laugh in smoke while I bleed need.
You ain’t got bones, just mirage and nerve
a flick of dust on long brown curve.

I build cathedrals of plan and fail,
scaffolds of hunger that always derail.
You chirp like god in a feathered flash,
and leave me lost in god-damned splash.