Being an ignorant newbie...

[RhymeSmith]

I've decided to turn this thread into a sounding board about my work. It'll go away when/if the moderators kill it. Until then, scroll down, and you can read any of my poems I post here, as well as any comments (if any) that people choose to leave on them.

Not everything I post here will appear in the Literotica story index. Not everything I post there will show up here, first, or maybe ever. There will likely be some common content, however.

Criticism is welcome. I may argue with it, or I may ignore it, but it is welcome, and I might even use it to make my stuff better. Of course, critical acclaim would not be unwelcome either...

 

[RhymeSmith]

One bad idea deserves another, so...

inasmuch as Pandora brought a couple of problems to my attention, concerning my most recent submission, I've decided to rewrite and resubmit The First Parting. In addition, after seeing her comment, and re-reading the poem, I found a couple of other places I thought I could make it work better, as well.

Being as it was my first try at creating a sonnet, I didn't expect to get off scott-free, so thanks again, PandoraGlitters. Anyway, before I put the new version out there for everyone in the world to see, I thought I'd post it here, and see if anyone else could spot any glaring errors.

The First Parting

I think I made an error leaving you
with just a kiss, to stay there all alone.
I saw no choice, nor aught that I could do.
You closed the door, my heart fell, like a stone.

I cannot even call you on the phone,
the mem'ry of our loving makes me sigh
with want; and such desire to hear you moan
in passion, and your sweet orgasmic cry.

Oh, why must you continue still to try
to stir the embers of a love that's dead?
So many weeks have passed, now won't you fly
to me, and live in my embrace, instead?

Let us reclaim the joy that once we had,
and nevermore be lonely or be sad.

- RhymeSmith

 

[RhymeSmith]

The Smithy

This one is not one of those that went up in smoke; in fact, it just hit me this morning. Just a little fun, I hope.

The Smithy

Any smithy who is worthy of the name
Will return defective pieces to the flame
There to melt, or forge anew
A better piece, or maybe two
And doesn't hesitate to show it without shame

A creator of romantic rhymes am I.
WIth my words I hope to make my lady sigh
On occasion though, I blunder
And mistakes put them asunder,
And there's nothing for it but again to try.

Hear the rhythm of my hammer as it rings
Forging words together as my anvil sings,
As they have so oft before
And I hope forever more,
To my lady, greater joy I hope it brings

- Rhymesmith

 

[RhymeSmith]

OK. I see the visit counts, and while I haven't seen any wild enthusiasm about it, no one has posted any kind of attack on The First Parting in the entire period it's been up here, so I'm gonna call it done. It goes to the formal submission process today.

 

[lorencino]

OK. I see the visit counts, and while I haven't seen any wild enthusiasm about it, no one has posted any kind of attack on The First Parting in the entire period it's been up here, so I'm gonna call it done. It goes to the formal submission process today.

Looking for wild attacks? (Don't publish yet.)

"Well, well, well," he cries warming his hands with glee in preparation
for the onslaught. "We go over the top in seven minutes and thirty five seconds."
That close? The cold sweat begins to creep from his pores as
the bleak unknown that hides in the tangled green dispersing in the air above
threatens his day. Now the time has come. We glide in glacial motion
into the bullet strewn dawn, into the eerie weight of silenced cannon,
into the sights of the waiting machine gun that marries life with death
on these dream strewn, misty fields of blood and mud.

It was all the son's that died that marred a nation's future


Right. Well, eh, OK! Aught! Like naught convincing have I here
When all was successfully said in, "I saw no choice." Zounds, Man!
You have no choice. Why not go directly then from thence to thither?

"Mem'ry" is how I would utter the word even if you spelled it "memory." It just seems to be another anachronistic device that serves no useful purpose other than to create a consistency with a language that is no more in the hot ovens of creative endeavour.

"and such desire to hear" is followed by two desired sounds which require a parallel structure to avoid confusion: "you moan
in passion, and your sweet orgasmic cry."
should have some construction around you moan/you cry or your moan/your cry.

Why should she fly to you? Wouldn't it be enough if she just came over with an intention to stay. You're the one with the enthusiasm for her and thus more likely to be the one racing about and taking flight.

Pandora's comment is brilliant: "Make sure the plant is sound and defined before training it to the trellis." So the plant is this powerful attachment you have and the past and future of the relationship with the person you address in the poem. It still remains a question of training it gently to the trellis you have chosen in this form of poetry. So you have to be gentle and patient when training a plant otherwise you break things.

However, you have to get beyond the language of a bygone time in order to achieve this form. You have to do it with today's language which is all buried deep inside you waiting to be unearthed. Listen for it and don't take the flowery faux Shakesperian shortcuts that we are all prone to indulge in when we are not wary.

In case you are wondering about the form of my response to your poem, it is a precise reflection of the unhinging that occurred when I began to wrestle with your poem. Yes, Iknow, I am quite mad. I sincerely hope my comments are constructive or in some way useful.

 

[RhymeSmith]

(Don't publish yet.)... you have to get beyond the language of a bygone time in order to achieve this form.

Too late! Already posted! But... as I said before, if convinced that it is defective, I'll put it back in the flame. As to the archaic language, the sad part is (if sad it is), I frequently actually think in those terms.

As soon as I figure out the rest of what you're saying, I'll decide what else to do.

Thanks for the comment - I think!

 

[lorencino]

As to the archaic language, the sad part is (if sad it is), I frequently actually think in those terms.

As soon as I figure out the rest of what you're saying, I'll decide what else to do.

Please forgive me. I was up all night and was also a bit of a lazy fuck just emoting all over your poem instead of ordering my thoughts before mouthing off.

So let me clarify. I can write endless lines of what I call faux Shakespearean blank verse because I can get into the grove with the thous and the thines:

Dost thou follow this primping prose, good fellow, that struts about
in brazen disregard for thy carefully measured day, robbing thee
of time assigned to weightier pursuits planned in advance
of our unexpected encounter. Tis but a matter of solemn import
to the winning of thine place at Aphrodite's feet that thou should readily
Apprehend the meaty pith of my meaning.

Trust not the flagrant flow of cadences familiar that, from the wealth
That history has bestowed upon our noble race, we cavort about in
Ere first we lie teated fast apon our mother's breast.
Safely ensconced in loving arms, we suck with our milk
the archetypal sounds we now reproduce with thoughtless ease.

That is to say it is so easy to write the above drivel because it is shallow posturing, playing a role within the familiarity of our cultural traditions. Faux, because it is easy to parrot the effect of Shakespeare's verse in an off-key kind of way without really getting it right. Real poetry, on the other hand is extremely difficult for me, sometimes taking months of searching and squeezing like having a constipated shit. Sometimes it is like disembowelling oneself to drag the feelings twisted in our sticky innards into the precise words that describe what we mean.

In a sense it is as though the word that attaches to a feeling is hidden somewhere in my mind and the feeling somewhere in my gut, and I have to connect them in order to know what the word is. Then, when there are a few words, I have to bounce them about in my heart until they fall into the musical rhythm that matches the mood of my meaning. Occasionally a poem will pour unimpeded from me and be quite good after a little tuck here and a slight nip there.

Hopefully that clarifies things.

 

[RhymeSmith]

Please forgive me. I was up all night and was also a bit of a lazy fuck just emoting all over your poem instead of ordering my thoughts before mouthing off.

No offense taken, there is naught to forgive for your thoughts. You made me think, though, and that was unforgiveable...

So let me clarify. I can write endless lines of what I call faux Shakespearean blank verse because I can get into the grove with the thous and the thines...

Twice now you have used the term faux Shakespearean to describe what you dislike. I admit to a love of Shakespeare. I'll also admit that some of his poetry left something to be desired. On the other hand, I have to observe that Shakespeare's motivations in writing had little to do with the opinions of the critics of the time: he wrote specifically to make a living, and was apparently very successful at it. I suspect that, if he were to return to us, he would again be just as successful. Now I understand that mass appeal, such as Shakespeare had, doesn't necessarily make some bit of writing good, but how many on this board understand that it doesn't make it bad either? Who defines the language? For my own part, I neither expect nor desire such appeal, but having it wouldn't bother me either.

Please don't mistake my archaic vocabulary, style and syntax as a attempt to pass "word salad" off as poetry. I don't write for the sake of writing and I don't really write for critical acclaim. Sometimes I'll expose my writing to the criticism of other writers, to see if I missed something important, but I write what I write because something moved me, emotionally or spiritually. I write how I write, because that is what seems most natural to me. I don't sprinkle "thee" and "thou" and "thine" over my compositions like pepper over my morning eggs, but if it makes sense and I need to use one of them because of the context, or even only because it makes the rhyme or meter, I'll do so without compunction.

A word becomes archaic because of neglect, not because it isn't useful. Perhaps there may be room in the world for people who remind us that there are perfectly good words that remain underutilized, because our minds are too occupied with other things (or too lazy) to remember and use them, when doing so is appropriate.

Although they fall in and out of favor with the writing community, rhyme and meter have an almost mystical power to me. They are the skeleton which supports the meat of my ideas. I have found that they help to acquire and retain the attention of my intended audience in a way that unstructured prose can't usually duplicate very well. They can also help an audience to remember what was said. I'm not going to abandon them just because they are currently in disfavor among the intelligentsia.

Real poetry, on the other hand is extremely difficult for me, sometimes taking months of searching and squeezing like having a constipated shit. Sometimes it is like disembowelling oneself to drag the feelings twisted in our sticky innards into the precise words that describe what we mean.

If that is what it takes to write real poetry, it'll probably never happen to me. Everything I've ever written was done because of pain or joy I had already experienced, and all of my words flowed from that. I don't use my poetry, excuse me, my rhymes to address society's or humanity's global issues, and I have no desire to do so. I get plenty enough pain and suffering just dealing with my own life, and the lives of those I love.

Hopefully that clarifies things.

Time will tell.

For a moment, let's again examine the thoughts and emotions I tried to expose:

The First Parting
(redux, in prose)​

I am convinced now, that I shouldn't have just kissed you goodbye and left you alone there, so far away. I didn't feel that I had any choice, though, and I didn't see how I could make it any better for you. When you said goodbye, and closed the door, my spirits plummeted so fast and so far that I wasn't sure I'd ever recover.

I am dying to talk to you, but I can't do it without exposing you to harsh treatment by others. I miss you so much, all I can do is think about you, and our lovemaking, and how I want to do it all again and again and again...

Why do you keep trying to revive that other relationship, when you know he won't ever return to you the passion that you offer? Haven't you tried long enough? Won't you let me give you what he won't, what you need, now and for as long as we live?

Come back and let me show you, let me love you, and I promise that I'll always try to make you happy.

FIN​

Now the ideas and feelings behind this text were previously reflected in several quatrains of rhyming tetrameter. All but fragments of those lines are lost to me now. In this form, they might make a halfway decent love letter, but it's not a poem.

If I abandoned the paragraph structure, and broke it up into lines, I might call it free verse, but I think it makes more sense as structured prose. I could try to force it into some kind of unrhymed meter, and maybe retain the thoughts and feelings it expresses, but why bother? Instead I took the composite situation and tried something that, for me, was a new form. In bogusbrig's words, I stretched. I had never before written a sonnet. Hard to believe, at my age, but true.

Perhaps I overlooked or ignored it, but I didn't get much of the feeling that you apparently did from Pandora's comment. She gave me pointers to areas where my technique was weak, and, using her metaphor, I pruned and shaped and grafted in order to try and correct that. If she meant more that that, it completely blew by me.

Anyway thanks for your comments. You put 'way more thought and effort into them than I would have anticipated, from anyone.

RhymeSmith

 

[lorencino]

I'll be brief:

1. I am enjoying this exchange so I value your taking the time to consider my response just as much as you appreciate my taking the time to consider your poem and react.

2. I adore Shakespeare whether he is writing blank verse or sonnets. Interestingly in many of his plays, he will allow aristocrats rhyming verse while peasants speak with blank verse in the same scene. I call what I write "faux" because I don't presume to approach the actual genius of the man in my lines. I simply do it for fun like a 13-year-old in the playground after their first encounter with Shakespeare. The first book I ever read was Shakespeare's Henry IV.

I was in grade 1. My father and brother used to sit in the living room reading after supper and I felt compelled to do what they were doing. So, over a week or so, I went through every line of the play picking out the words I could recognize. Words like "and," "the" and "but" come to mind. Man, did I feel so grown up. Even though it is about 55 years ago I can still remember it was a hardcover book with those thick pages "books for the unwashed" used to have back then.

3. I'm not in the least suggesting that you have to write blank verse in order for me to enjoy your poems. What I am suggesting is that I have to be oblivious to your technique on first reading the poem. Later I can always come back to see how you achieved the affect you had on me. Now that is simply the way I like it. A thousand other people might very well feel emotionally overwhelmed by your poem while I'm nitpicking over what may simply be my idiosyncratic perceptions.

Aught is naught, fine fellow, when the heart casts its currents
into the magic-shaping molds of words that carry your springs
to the breast of another and, boring beneath the surface,
sets the others flowing feelings to mingle with thine.
For life lived stretches on infinite wings to soar and dive
in it's fleeting passage through consciousness divine,
but wasted is gone from all eternity.

That was more faux

4. I can't really tell you how to write and I should not be trying. I have exposed something of the process that I go through, but that is simply me (and some jumped up psychiatrists once suggested to me that my brain does not work like a "normal" person's brain. "Put that in your pipe and smoke it." I never did decide whether to believe him or not.) It was interesting to see how you approach your writing and I think you have to be "true to thine own self " while others nudge you here and there.

I have a substantial problem with the concept of intellectual property for the following reason which has some bearing on what we are discussing here.

My personal view:
Within our community we swim in the same cultural sea and depend on the generalization of words and concepts to understand each other. Our identity is shaped by our engagements with others in our community and we are a product of our genetic, cultural and intellectual heritage. When the rocket scientists managed to invent the tools that put a human footprint on the moon, they did it on the backs of endless generations going back millions of years. They also did it on the backs of countless others who provided them with everything they needed to do what they were doing free from the need to forage for food for the day and secure shelter for the night. Poetry is a product of our society and history at the same time that it contributes to society. Everything that I do would be impossible without everything that society gives to me. Even my sense of my own personal identity is built by the society I live in, just as the society I live in is built in part by me. Poetry, and all art for that matter, takes place in this nutrient-rich soup we create and are the product of--our community.

Literotica.com extends our community so that you have now become part of the ever-changing community that shapes me and that I impinge on whenever I write:

5. Don't imagine that prose is unstructured. Read the first page of Brave New World and the first page of Heart of Darkness to see the effect that structure can have on prose.

 

[RhymeSmith]

Interestingly in many of his plays, he will allow aristocrats rhyming verse while peasants speak with blank verse in the same scene.

Ah! Another hole in my education! I have to admit, I learned to love old William in spite of my high school English teacher, rather than because of her. If she had only thrown out a few tidbits like this, we might have gotten along much better.

 

[RhymeSmith]

I'm not in the least suggesting that you have to write blank verse in order for me to enjoy your poems.

I might try a little blank verse anyway, at some point. As I mentioned in my profile, I'm really here to try and reconstruct work that I did years ago, and which has since been lost. Sometimes, all I'm left with is the memory of the circumstances and feelings. When that happens, provided those memories don't drive a pre-existing form, I am free to try to fit them to new forms. I don't abhor blank verse, per se; it just never suggested itself to me as appropriate for the moment.

... my brain does not work like a "normal" person's brain.

Most schools of thought of which I am aware, deny the existence of "normal" psychology. Everyone is screwed up to one degree or another, and in different ways. IMHO, the concept of a "normal" brain or mind belongs in the dustbin along with that of the "average man."

I have a substantial problem with the concept of intellectual property for the following reason which has some bearing on what we are discussing here.

I share your antipathy to the concept, but you've thrown me a curve here. I've gone over and over our exchanges here, and I fail to make the connection. Can you elaborate on that connection?

Don't imagine that prose is unstructured. Read the first page of Brave New World and the first page of Heart of Darkness to see the effect that structure can have on prose.

I actually have read both, but it was many years ago. I believe they were required reading for some core requirements at college, and that probably set up a negative environment for literary appreciation. I'll have to try to find my copies and see if I find that to which you are referring. I didn't mean to imply that prose has no structure at all, but my reaction to prose is that it is less structured than that which I perceive to be poetry.

 

[lorencino]

I share your antipathy to the concept, but you've thrown me a curve here. I've gone over and over our exchanges here, and I fail to make the connection. Can you elaborate on that connection?

See! I do have an odd mind.

We're all swimming about fashioning our individual identities from all the material that others are pouring into our lives. You are creating something which congeals into a sonnet and has powerful meaning for you, while I come up with some blank verse that has powerful meaning for me; we both look over each other's shoulders curious to see what each other is doing. Pleased that the other is taking an interest, and learning from the dissonance created by our different tastes, our identities and capacities expand allowing us to unfurl even more of the personal deepest core that all of our art is rooted in. Through your eyes I understand myself better.

One of the lessons I was taught about Shakespeare in the dim distant past was that in order to understand the reality of a character you had to consider three points of view: What does the character think of herself, what do her friends think of her, and what do her enemies think of her. The truth cannot be derived from any one of the three.

So if reality is a social/communal construct, as is our sense of our own identity, and our skills are a product of our history, genes and community, I have no right to absolute judgments on the validity of your work nor to the absolute ownership of my work.

I don't know. Everything is part of the great circle of being, but we are better able, in our culture, to make the distinctions rather than the connections.

So, to be precise in answering your question, I simply wanted you to understand that I don't want you to take my criticism of your poetry personally. I was trying, obliquely, to indicate that I fully respect you, even as I pick apart your choice of words in a particular poem.

 

[RhymeSmith]

See! I do have an odd mind...

So, to be precise in answering your question, I simply wanted you to understand that I don't want you to take my criticism of your poetry personally. I was trying, obliquely, to indicate that I fully respect you, even as I pick apart your choice of words in a particular poem.

Maybe I'm the one with the odd mind. I interpreted your statement as opposition to "intellectual property" in the commercial sense.

I've not taken personal umbrage at anything we've discussed, so far; we've just been having a pretty in-depth discussion about the art, as we individually perceive it. My material is what is being dissected, simply because I invited comment on it. You and Pandora have both been interested enough to comment (albeit not in the same venue) and I've had much to think about as a result.

As much as I value the advice and criticism the two of you have provided, I don't see myself shifting (in any major way) away from my roots, poetically speaking. I'd like to avoid technical errors, at a minimum. If my writing is obtuse, I'd like to know that too, so that I can try to clarify it.

Sometimes I wonder if clarification is possible, or even desirable. Many of my verses often contain messages that are profoundly personal: they were private messages from me to the object of my affection. Perhaps those might best not be broadcast far and wide. I'm not sure I want to expose my psyche (or my history) to such a degree.

For now though, I think I'm going to take a break from talking about the art, and sift through my memories to find something with which to create it.

Thanks for all your interest, time, and effort. Be assured that, in my opinion, none of it was wasted, and I look forward to many more discussions.

 

[RhymeSmith]

More spoil from the dredges in my mind

Words fly from the heart
Rhythm and rhyme beat in time
Silence reigns again

 

[FifthFlower]

And before the glow has faded
From his body, comes the morning​

I enjoyed it, especially the last two lines.

 

[RhymeSmith]

Umm... Thanks! I was just thinking about taking it down...

 

[twelveoone]

Criticism is welcome. I may argue with it, or I may ignore it, but it is welcome, and I might even use it to make my stuff better. Of course, critical acclaim would not be unwelcome either...

One, you are not ignorant, especially with such a healthy attitide exhibited here.


Now what are you doing to avoid as you say, "the kind of mushy stuff that I write. It's trite, full of cliché," ?

 

[RhymeSmith]

You're correct. I'm not really ignorant. I'm actually fairly well educated. On the other hand, when I started this thread, I didn't have a real handle on the culture of this forum. I probably shouldn't have started it, but I did, it's here, and I can't get rid of it. So I might as well use it, at least until the thread police decide that it's extraneous and should be put out of its (and our collective) misery.

It's a sad world if there is no place in it for the trite, the cliché, the sentimental. I hope that I never achieve a mindset that seeks to avoid it.

I'm old enough to know that I'm not destined for poetic greatness, by anyone's standards. I've already achieved everything for which I'm likely to ever be remembered, in my professional life, and that life was not oriented toward literature. If I get to write something that someone else likes, it's icing on the cake.

Everything that I've written, that was truly appreciated by someone else, reflected those qualities that are here considered trite, cliché and sentimental. Without fail, those very qualities were what pleased the target audience, which was usually someone for whom I felt a personal connection. That is the reason that I will probably remove the last poem I exposed here - it was too personal - not for any shame concerning its content.

When the day comes that I agree that love and passion, and the ideas and images that nearly every English-speaking person in the world feel and understand, are no longer fit subjects for poetry, on that day I will cease to write. Don't look for it to happen soon.

I'm just here to play. You are all too serious.

 

[FifthFlower]

You're correct. I'm not really ignorant. I'm actually fairly well educated. On the other hand, when I started this thread, I didn't have a real handle on the culture of this forum.

...

It's a sad world if there is no place in it for the trite, the cliché, the sentimental. I hope that I never achieve a mindset that seeks to avoid it.

...

When the day comes that I agree that love and passion, and the ideas and images that nearly every English-speaking person in the world feel and understand, are no longer fit subjects for poetry, on that day I will cease to write. Don't look for it to happen soon.

I'm just here to play. You are all too serious.

I like your attitude. It will be a challenge to make what could appear sentimental attractive to the jaded, but I don't see any reason not to continue trying.

 

[RhymeSmith]

I like your attitude. It will be a challenge to make what could appear sentimental attractive to the jaded, but I don't see any reason not to continue trying.

Thanks for the vote of confidence. I hope it isn't misplaced. I'm not really an evangelical type of person, but neither am I prone to accept devaluation (of my scribblings) by others, as gospel.

I have a niggling suspicion that many people here use their poetic energies to "address" societal ills, as a means to avoid dealing with those things which are individually important. As a result, those societal ills remain unresolved, and the important individual issues remain buried.

I find it somewhat amusing that so many who post here seem to have become disconnected from the fact that this is an erotic literature site. Eroticism, it seems to me, has more to do with individual relationships than with global issues; and, I would think, would be enhanced more by expressions of love and passion, than by flogging the reader with the ills of the world. Perhaps I'm out of touch with sexuality in today's world.

There is no global issue which is more important to me than any one of my relationships - with my lover, my children, my parents, and the myriad others that make up my life. Without those relationships why would I care about a world free of strife, hunger, and disease?

I may grow weary and take my little rhymes elsewhere, having heard enough here, that my topics aren't important. Until and unless I come to believe those contentions, however, I won't stop writing. There are other online communities, and other places to post.

I ramble on. Thanks again for your comments.

 

[Angeline]

You're correct. I'm not really ignorant. I'm actually fairly well educated. On the other hand, when I started this thread, I didn't have a real handle on the culture of this forum. I probably shouldn't have started it, but I did, it's here, and I can't get rid of it. So I might as well use it, at least until the thread police decide that it's extraneous and should be put out of its (and our collective) misery.

It's a sad world if there is no place in it for the trite, the cliché, the sentimental. I hope that I never achieve a mindset that seeks to avoid it.

I'm old enough to know that I'm not destined for poetic greatness, by anyone's standards. I've already achieved everything for which I'm likely to ever be remembered, in my professional life, and that life was not oriented toward literature. If I get to write something that someone else likes, it's icing on the cake.

Everything that I've written, that was truly appreciated by someone else, reflected those qualities that are here considered trite, cliché and sentimental. Without fail, those very qualities were what pleased the target audience, which was usually someone for whom I felt a personal connection. That is the reason that I will probably remove the last poem I exposed here - it was too personal - not for any shame concerning its content.

When the day comes that I agree that love and passion, and the ideas and images that nearly every English-speaking person in the world feel and understand, are no longer fit subjects for poetry, on that day I will cease to write. Don't look for it to happen soon.

I'm just here to play. You are all too serious.

You're right. Many of the people on this forum have been here at least a few years, and are very serious about poetry: trying to have their writing taken seriously and be published in increasingly better places. I'm not saying those are better goals or the right goals for anyone in particular, just that I believe they are goals shared by a lot of people here. I think, too, that some of us are senstive to the idea that we're trying to be taken seriously on what really is a porn forum. Maybe sometimes we try too hard because we want to dispel the notion (and maybe only a few of us really have it) that you can't be at Literotica and write "serious" poetry. I personally have a lot of pride in the fact that this "porn board" has produced some really wonderful poets. I read poems at other sites and I don't think I've ever seen the quality of poetry from as many writers as I read here.

I'll admit that I haven't commented on your poems because the way you write isn't really my taste. And I could tell you feel strongly about the way you write, so I think, what could I contribute to this poet? Anything I suggest would likely be pushing you to write in a way that isn't your thing. Not so helpful. So it's not a criticism, but an understanding that we probably have different goals. That's not a judgment; it's an observation.

But I'm really glad you're here. You're obviously smart and thoughtful and, as I've seen in the Bistro for example, a lot of fun to have around. And I'm glad that someone who has a very different style from my own and seems pretty strong-willed about it is hanging in there. It's good for all of us, IMO, for there to be poets with very different approaches here. We learn more from each other because of the differences than the similarities.

Oh and I want to tell you that I have nooo problem with sentimentality. I adore Charles Dickens, who I think is one of the most sentimental writers ever. And ultimately we write for ourselves and the people we love. If we're pleasing that audience, we're on the right track as poets, no matter what style we prefer.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

I'm just here to play. You are all too serious.

LOL, as it were. Obviously, not all of us...

I really don't see you doing anything wrong with this thread. You may not get the response you were hoping for, but really, does anyone?

I'm not the Queen of Critique, as I've said numerous times. I enjoy most people's work for one reason or another, but anytime I start thinking about how to change something, I hesitate; I assume I'd just be putting my personal stamp or interpretation on a piece, and that may not be appropriate. My offers of critique tend to stick to the basic, the cut and paste: use strong verb forms, go for concrete imagery, trust your reader and don't over-explain, don't bash sentences into unrecognizability to make them fit a form, that sort of thing. Basics.

Your work is beyond all that, so I come in, I lurk, I enjoy, I read, and I watch other people respond to it. I've been liking this thread, and I don't find it self-indulgent at all; rather, it's courageous. I think it's good to be willing to put yourself out there and let people watch your process as it unfolds.

keep it up.

bj

 

[RhymeSmith]

LOL, as it were. Obviously, not all of us...

I've had great fun in the Bistro, and yes, I'll admit, you are a shining beacon of fun among the many long faces I "see" here. Like all generalizations, my contention about seriousness has its exceptions.

You may not get the response you were hoping for, but really, does anyone?

...My offers of critique tend to stick to the basic...

That was actually what I was looking for when I started the thread, sort of like what Pandora did in her comment on my sonnet. I'm as capable of making mistakes as anyone, and sometimes I don't see them unless someone else points them out.

...I've been liking this thread... I think it's good to be willing to put yourself out there and let people watch your process as it unfolds.

keep it up.

I've actually had much more adventure with this thread than I anticipated. I've enjoyed most of the exchanges I've had with the other authors here, if only because it has occasionally given me an opportunity to climb on my soapbox.

Thanks for the encouragement. I'll be here for awhile, anyway.

 

[RhymeSmith]

... Maybe sometimes we try too hard because we want to dispel the notion (and maybe only a few of us really have it) that you can't be at Literotica and write "serious" poetry. I personally have a lot of pride in the fact that this "porn board" has produced some really wonderful poets. I read poems at other sites and I don't think I've ever seen the quality of poetry from as many writers as I read here.

Let me first agree that, yes there is a lot of "porn" on Literotica. I would even admit that the bulk of material to be found here is little more than stroke fodder. But... I also agree, there is some damn good literature to be found here too, both prose and poetry, and much of it is erotic, only because that is the focus of this site. I like erotica. I like poetry. I like prose. I like them separately as well as all together.

... the way you write isn't really my taste... Anything I suggest would likely be pushing you to write in a way that isn't your thing.

I appreciate that. There's room for it all.

I've never been able to connect with free verse as poetry. I can easily connect with the ideas expressed that way, if I read it as prose. It's only a little easier with blank verse. I was born amid and grew up with poetry that used rhyme and meter as load-bearing structure. I'll freely admit my amateur status, but that's what I like to write, as well; and I won't criticize another, just because he/she doesn't use them.

Oh and I want to tell you that I have nooo problem with sentimentality... ultimately we write for ourselves and the people we love.

Exactly my position! If we were single, I'd ask you to marry me!

 

[Eluard]

on what really is a porn forum.

Huh? This is a Porn Forum?? *Stomps out, stage left, muttering Why wasn't I told!? What will my Church pastor think?*