A Poet Walks Into a Bar . . .

I'd bet a quid against that, long odds, grapes would get you even money, cant think of anything that would put the odds on your side :cattail:

yeah, i suck at edits past the posting stage. tend to do them as i write. sometimes, though, people's suggestions get me to rethink and even if i don't make the changes online they're in my head and kept in mind for future writes.

graaaaaaaaaaaapeeesssssssssssssss *nom*

besides, time! never ever enough and what i have i prioritise. ;)
 
A quid, a squid. Slippery. Flows away, hides in a cloud of ink. Oh well. It was worth the try.

Ho, Harry! I have this great challenge for you... :D
 
guilt

guilt is the surest trap. but i don't have time to feel guilty so...

:p
 
"The most delicious kind you can imagine", says the fairy-tale witch, trying to lure her.

:devil:

you're gonna need a bigger trap :D

and i have to go be proactive now and do stuff (looks at laundry pile... sigh)

laters :cool:
 
guilt

guilt is the surest trap. but i don't have time to feel guilty so...

:p

:eek:

Well, I'd love the company of anyone who'd like to participate in the edit challenge, and share the secrets of editing. But I don't want anyone to feel guilty about not participating.

(cough, cough) ...I wasn't going to say anything, but you're totally compromising the improvement of poetry around here... (cough) :D

you're gonna need a bigger trap :D

and i have to go be proactive now and do stuff (looks at laundry pile... sigh)

laters :cool:

Good luck. :cattail:
 
:eek:

Well, I'd love the company of anyone who'd like to participate in the edit challenge, and share the secrets of editing. But I don't want anyone to feel guilty about not participating.

(cough, cough) ...I wasn't going to say anything, but you're totally compromising the improvement of poetry around here... (cough) :D



Good luck. :cattail:
you, sir, are evil! :eek::eek::eek:

:p
 
Ho, chipbutty — join the 30 in 30 challenge. We have cookies. :)
fuck 30/30 the equation of production with poetry is lame, it also tends to closed circle criticism
i.e. the cookies are poison

Oh, how we pray as gnomes
in these houses of the dead
where the blandest are manifest


On this street where children play I remember everything
from those years ago back in '92 we were children then
Joe's shirt was red plaid, and Bill's was Denim Blue


Mama died at 8:37 that night
Papa at 9:42

All the luck to have
a funeral with a double view

Care for 29 more? Care to comment?
 
*pours 12 a drink*

right, well i'd say this:

it might not be the best way to write, quantity over quality, but for some people it keeps their hand in and they find it beneficial. personally, i don't. the same with editing: it's about the focus, the application - it might be something that would help me. i'm lazy, i know it. to attempt to rewrite to order leaves me cold, but each to their own and some will find value.

as always - when it comes to feedback of any nature and, most especially in such an enclosed environment - consider the source.

poison cookies? unlikely. but i still prefer grapes.
 
*pours 12 a drink*

right, well i'd say this:

it might not be the best way to write, quantity over quality, but for some people it keeps their hand in and they find it beneficial. personally, i don't. the same with editing: it's about the focus, the application - it might be something that would help me. i'm lazy, i know it. to attempt to rewrite to order leaves me cold, but each to their own and some will find value.

as always - when it comes to feedback of any nature and, most especially in such an enclosed environment - consider the source.

poison cookies? unlikely. but i still prefer grapes.

the grapes of woebegone?
the grapes of wraiths?
a grape in time makes fine wine
a challenge: lazin with the grapes
I need to write me some more prose.
 
fuck 30/30 the equation of production with poetry is lame, it also tends to closed circle criticism
i.e. the cookies are poison

Oh, how we pray as gnomes
in these houses of the dead
where the blandest are manifest


On this street where children play I remember everything
from those years ago back in '92 we were children then
Joe's shirt was red plaid, and Bill's was Denim Blue


Mama died at 8:37 that night
Papa at 9:42

All the luck to have
a funeral with a double view

Care for 29 more? Care to comment?

1) Lit tends to "closed circle" criticism. The planet Earth tends to closed circle criticism. My head tends to closed circle criticism.

In order of more closed to least closed:

My head -> Lit -> Earth

2) 30 in 30 is an exercise. By the end of the first 30 in 30 I participated in, I had twice as many poems as I had ever written in my life. Not everyone can sit down and write "anything", even "anything shitty". It is a muscle, I guess.

I don't intend to write / edit the best poem ever, I'm just using the "game" element of 30 in 30 to stay motivated doing something that I don't normally have time / incentive to do.

I can think, think, think about poetry, and read, read, read about poetry, and read others' work, but unless I (at some point) write something, I can't complete the feedback loop to learn.

Further, it's interesting to see how others edit their work. You don't think so?

3) Your poem sucks. Think about it. :D
 
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the grapes of woebegone?
the grapes of wraiths?
a grape in time makes fine wine
a challenge: lazin with the grapes
I need to write me some more prose.
the grapes of dappled shadow
sweat beads of sticky dew
internalise the foment
call forth the must, the true

and yes, i'm waiting for some of your prose to reach my inbox.
 
the grapes of dappled shadow
sweat beads of sticky dew
internalise the foment
call forth the must, the true

and yes, i'm waiting for some of your prose to reach my inbox.

I've been thinking about your inbox too,
between cursing the lawn mower and the slow pace of bureaucracy
all that green that grows unseen, when my back is turned.
Maybe I should start a spread sheet, repair costs and gasoline,
versus 100 yards of concrete everywhere but the grape arbor
 
I've been thinking about your inbox too,
between cursing the lawn mower and the slow pace of bureaucracy
all that green that grows unseen, when my back is turned.
Maybe I should start a spread sheet, repair costs and gasoline,
versus 100 yards of concrete everywhere but the grape arbor

hello, mister :)

concrete has no . .. soul
and spreadsheets don't take into account
the pleasures of green

and
grapes!
 
I was going to say: "I think I got better at writing poetry, I must be doing something right in my choices on how to learn", but then I remembered that no one knows what poetry is, nor what makes it good, which makes my attempt to learn how to write it completely blind, which makes it irrelevant. I think you're right: participating in the 30 in 30 is pretty useless. :)
 
I was going to say: "I think I got better at writing poetry, I must be doing something right in my choices on how to learn", but then I remembered that no one knows what poetry is, nor what makes it good, which makes my attempt to learn how to write it completely blind, which makes it irrelevant. I think you're right: participating in the 30 in 30 is pretty useless. :)
try cyan
the ultimate
in irrelevancy
 
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