It's The 2025 Poem-A-Week Challenge Discussion Thread

[Ash999]

My poem " Tariff Saga" posted on Poem- A- Week on last Thursday was rejected by the Moderators in Lit poetry section / Non-erotic category for being " political" [ their words]. But I am glad Angie " like "-ed it on this thread !!!

 

[SmilingLez]

My poem " Tariff Saga" posted on Poem- A- Week on last Thursday was rejected by the Moderators in Lit poetry section / Non-erotic category for being " political" [ their words]. But I am glad Angie " like "-ed it on this thread !!!

Damn

 

[Angeline]

My poem " Tariff Saga" posted on Poem- A- Week on last Thursday was rejected by the Moderators in Lit poetry section / Non-erotic category for being " political" [ their words]. But I am glad Angie " like "-ed it on this thread !!!

Thanks Ash.

I'm glad we can express our ideas in poems here on the forums. However Lit's Content Guidelines for publication address the issue stating they do not publish works that address various subjects, including politics. The full list is in the guidelines linked above, but here's the verbatim guideline that prohibits political subject matter.

Works that promote or focus heavily on politics or religion, or political or religious figures. Lit readers are bombarded with political disputes on other platforms and they prefer to avoid these types of divisive issues in their erotica.

And just a reminder that the forums and publication sides of Lit are separate entities. In other words I'm just the lowly messenger on this issue.

 

[Ash999]

Thanks Ash.

I'm glad we can express our ideas in poems here on the forums. However Lit's Content Guidelines for publication address the issue stating they do not publish works that address various subjects, including politics. The full list is in the guidelines linked above, but here's the verbatim guideline that prohibits political subject matter.

Works that promote or focus heavily on politics or religion, or political or religious figures. Lit readers are bombarded with political disputes on other platforms and they prefer to avoid these types of divisive issues in their erotica.

And just a reminder that the forums and publication sides of Lit are separate entities. In other words I'm just the lowly messenger on this issue.

Luv U, Angie: "lowly" my foot ... U're an Angelic Angel !!!

 

[Ash999]

Damn

Sweet of U , Lez

 

[SmilingLez]

Just curious, do you also post in the Story section?

 

[Ash999]

Just curious, do you also post in the Story section?

I hv posted in audio stories

 

[Tzara]

Hot Joe

Suddenly,
the coffee
in my cup
tastes of
crows

Your eyes
are ants,
they race
over my tits
the crows
in my coffee
fly.


36/52

There are two main images/metaphors in this poem; both grabbed my attention.

The first was that "tastes of crows" in the first strophe. I'm not sure why I like it so much, as I couldn't say quite what it means to me. I guess it seems a little mysterious, or ominous, maybe—that the narrator suddenly feels odd. Then that second strophe, where it repeats, which seems to clarify the first strophe was, in fact, a warning or premonition.

But the real killer metaphor is "Your eyes / are ants, / they race / over my tits". That perfectly evokes for me (straight male) what a woman must feel when some guy (friend? lover? just some random male walking past?) runs his gaze over her. Creepy crawly ickiness.

It made me squirm a bit, which is a good thing.

 

[Ash999]

There are two main images/metaphors in this poem; both grabbed my attention.

The first was that "tastes of crows" in the first strophe. I'm not sure why I like it so much, as I couldn't say quite what it means to me. I guess it seems a little mysterious, or ominous, maybe—that the narrator suddenly feels odd. Then that second strophe, where it repeats, which seems to clarify the first strophe was, in fact, a warning or premonition.

But the real killer metaphor is "Your eyes / are ants, / they race / over my tits". That perfectly evokes for me (straight male) what a woman must feel when some guy (friend? lover? just some random male walking past?) runs his gaze over her. Creepy crawly ickiness.

It made me squirm a bit, which is a good thing.

Tzara's second observation made me revisit the poem: it is an observant pertinent comment!!!

 

[Tzara]

Iowa City, 1998

The land is flat unrelieved
yellow cornfields that stretch
past the city with its castellated
stone empire of higher learning.

I am ensconced at the Holiday Inn,
by the indoor pool and elevators,
late night voices, chlorine dreams.
I didn't expect to find myself here,

didn't expect anything after years
of your displeasure, lost in piles
of dirty laundry, frozen by routine,
by disapproval and icy silences

until I'm so small,
infinitesimal almost
not anything.

Yet here I am at Martini's
sharing Chardonnay with Jason
who is tall and young, angel wings
tattooed on his back and no, no

I didn't but oh I wanted to, could have.
Instead we talked books and music,
shared pizza and later in my room,
I wrote a poem. Alone. I wrote a poem.

Week 33, Poem 1, Total 37

Sometimes a poem resonates with you for personal reasons. It's probably pretty obvious I like most anything Angie writes, but I particularly liked this poem, possibly because of its setting, both the where of its setting and the time in which it is set.

Iowa City (pardon me if I'm stating the obvious) is the home of the University of Iowa and, I think most relevant to this poem, the Iowa Writers Workshop, arguably the most prestigious creative writing program in the United States. I presume, though don't of course know, that the narrator is in Iowa City for a writing workshop or program of some kind. This seems partly an escape of a kind from the drudgery and distress of her daily life (years / of your displeasure, lost in piles / of dirty laundry, frozen by routine, / by disapproval and icy silences) and partly (one presumes) an attempt to do something personally rewarding (attend the workshop).

The time setting is important to me not so much for what was happening in the world at that time, as that it was in my middle age, where one often reevaluates one's life—where one is, what one is doing, and so on. This reinforces, for me at least, the sense of the narrator apparently looking for a change in her life, to try and stop feeling "so small, / infinitesimal[,] almost / not anything."

The last two strophes, with the companionship that might have been something more intimate than a friendly conversation and the close, where this possibility is channeled into a poem, is perhaps a little sad, but sad in a way that suggests the narrator is taking a bit more control of her life.

All of this strikes me personally because of my having attended a writing residency at a college (way, way less prestigious than the Iowa Writers Workshop), my attraction to some of the other writers there, the semi-loneliness of ending up in a dorm room writing poems late at night, etc. It's not a perfect analogue for my experience—I was older when I attended the program and had/have quite a happy home life—but it is close enough to feel like the experience I had.

It's a good example of what I call the Rorschach Theory of Literary Criticism—that a poem acts like the stimulus in a projective test, where the reader projects their emotions and meanings onto the text.

Or whatever. I really liked this poem.