When It's Good, It's So So Good

[Trixareforkids]

We've talked about what we thinks makes good and bad poetry.
When you strip away the semantics we all seem to be saying that bad (or disliked) poetry leaves us flat, evokes no emotion or is humorless.
While good poetry evokes emotion, paints a scene we can see and feel in our minds eye and/or is humorous.

So, with that in mind. Which are your favorites and more importantly, why? Which emotions or scenes do they paint for you?


I'll start with one that evokes that yearning to connect to understand. It speaks to me of the mix of hope and despair that pushes me to both ask questions and realize that I'll never get the answers I want.

From Wordsworth's Resolution and Independence

XVII
My former thoughts returned: the fear that kills;
And hope that is unwilling to be fed;
Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshy ills;
And mighty Poets in their misery dead.
--Perplexed, and longing to be comforted,
My question eagerly did I renew,
'How is that you live, and what is it that you do?'

 

[Trixareforkids]

I am 'uneducated'. I don't know forms, I can't speak to metrics, rhythms, I don't consciously process the niceties of what makes the language used more appealing.

The last time I 'studied' poetry I was 15 and i don' think the woman 'teaching' it could have made it any less appealing. I believe that most others had the same experience that I did. It is my contention that poetry is taught and studied backward.

The why needs to come first. Why do people bother to read and write poetry. That emotional element I spoke of. Exploring poems, both traditional forms and free verse looking for what speaks to each individual and having them express, or attempt to, what it is about the piece(s) that made a connection.

Next comes the what. What is poetry? My answer for that would be, concise language that is meant to convey a thought or emotion in a way that can be felt by others, regardless of form. Any good bit of prose can be reformulated into poetry. Movie dialog for instance.

Next comes the form. The clarifying of thought and practice of language through channeling into form.

A poetry class such as I outlined, I believe would foster people to see poetry everywhere, rather than in the dusty pages of stuffy tomes that only the rare teen cares about. If my teacher had used lyrics, and modern day poets rather than haikus and sonnets, I would have dove right in rather than run for the hills dragging my free form poetry behind me.

You can only care about the how once you care about the why and the what. I believe it is the sole emphasis on the how that has rung the death knell for poetry in our society.

So while I have some interest in form and the niceties of poetry. It's the bloody words and the thoughts/feelings they convey running through the structure that are most important to me.

I have no interest in peeling back the layers of a piece if it doesn't have bloody good hand to reach out and grab me first. All it takes is one line to speak to me and I'll read, re-read and play with a piece, but without that reaching hand, I move on untouched.

Here's one that caught me because of it's sing-song rhymes, but has kept me coming back because of the truth of it. The way that real, deep longing is expressed in a humorous off-hand manner.

Symptom Recital, Dorothy Parker

I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me anymore.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men...
I'm due to fall in love again.


Had to look up quondam the first time I read it. While I'll most likely never use it in conversation, I love new words and quondam sounds so much better to me than former. So, lots to love for me here. New word, longing and self-loathing all wrapped in a pretty and amusing package. This poem is a teenage dream, too bad it's not laid out before them.

 

[Trixareforkids]

And this being Lit...

We all came to this place with desire or looking for desire in some form or another.

Disturbed This Morning, Leonard Cohen

Ah. That.
That's what I was so disturbed
about this morning:
my desire has come back,
and I want you again.
I was doing so fine,
I was above it all.
The boys and girls were beautiful
and I was an old man, loving everyone.
And now I want you again,
I want your absolute attention,
your underwear rolled down in a hurry
still hanging on one foot,
and nothing on my mind
but to be inside
the only place
that has
no inside,
and no outside.


This speaks to me of the desire not just for physical release, but that release of emotion that grows and expands until you feel it will consume you.

 

[pensivepoet]

Disclaimer: i don't know shit, and am about to prove it yet again.
These days, anything and everything seems to be poetry.
As Service said of gold mining~the worst is as good as the best.
I have a pile of poetry books, from the classics to hacks unknown. I need to write. Period.
And i need to read.
A search for a connection.
Similitude
To feel emotions
Share like thoughts
Question the norm
I don't give a rats ass about form. If i did, i'd suck worse than i do.
I'm a butcher, not a baker
I rip my heart out, throw it on the table and chop it to pieces
Bloody
And i look for the same
But alas, poetry is dead, save for us ghosts haunted.
Post the dumbest shit on fet, about how you want to fuck your grandma's eyes out, and you'll get a thousand views in an hour.
Bleed your life in a poem, and you'll be lucky if someone stops by to piss on it.
But i do it anyway
Have to

 

[All_4_Love]

Subscribed!

You two have some of the most intriguing minds. Poetry is everything you both have said here. It's seeing into the mind and heart of another. This comes from the reader's perspective. I am certainly not formally educated. I spend a lot of time looking up words. I'm just an average lady, living an average life, but I have a soul, and that's what it's about.

It's about heart and soul.

I would give anything to be able to write the words. Alas, I can only read them.

You put your heart down on paper, spun into beautiful words. Those words make my heart come alive and I feel everything you write.

I'm gonna love this thread! Thank you Trix and P-poet.

 

[Trixareforkids]

Pen, I agree. I do it because I have to, because I can't NOT do it. It makes me sad that poetry is dismissed nowadays.

And that reminds me of this.

From To W. P., George Santayana

With you a part of me hath passed away;
For in the peopled forest of my mind
A tree made leafless by this wintry wind
Shall never don again its green array.
Chapel and fireside, country road and bay,
Have something of their friendliness resigned;
Another, if I would, I could not find,
And I am grown much older in a day.
But yet I treasure in my memory
Your gift of charity, and young heart's ease,
And the dear honor of your amity;
For these once mine, my life rich with these,
And scarce I know which part may greater be--
What I keep of you, or you rob from me.

The love expressed through the description of grief and the question at the end, ugh! Will I be a greater or lesser person because of your loss, ye gads, what a sad, unknowable thing to ponder.

 

[pensivepoet]

And so it is, wal mart thrives while main street is lined with second hand stores and vacancy signs.
Thanks, all4, no fear~i'll never have you reaching for a dictiionary. If i can say it simply, i do.

 

[Trixareforkids]

And so it is, wal mart thrives while main street is lined with second hand stores and vacancy signs.
Thanks, all4, no fear~i'll never have you reaching for a dictiionary. If i can say it simply, i do.

And that right there is a poem to me.

And so it is,
Walmart thrives
While Main Street is lined
With second hand stores
And vacancy signs.

It speaks to me as a lament for times when we spoke to one another, knew the shop owners name and there were handwritten ledgers of accounts owed and paid under the counter.

 

[Trixareforkids]

And on to writing

Advice to a Young Writer, Henry Miller

All piffle & twaddle--influence of Bottom Dog man.
For real "decadents" read Huysmans & other French authors.
Diarrhea of words--stew of classic allusions.
Fuck Artemis et alia!
Don't put intellect in your prick!
Write honestly even if poorly.
Humor is weak--immature.
Try drugs and compare two kinds of writing.
Try using only Anglo-Saxon words.
Throw your dictionary away!
Don't mix realism with poetics!
If you can't make words fuck, don't masturbate them!
When you speak of Cunt put hair on it!
Try to forget everything you learned in college.
Try talking like an ignoramus--or an Igaroti.
Read, for emetic, "Palm Wine Drinkard."
You will learn to write only when you stop trying to write.
A line without effort is worth a chapter of push and pull.
First ask yourself if you have anything to say.
Don't draw the pen unless you are ready for the kill.
If you don't get rid of the Classics you'll die of constipation.
Never show any one what you've written until a year or two later.
Use the axe to your 1st draft and not the fine comb.
The latter is for lice.


It speaks to the anti-establishment voice in my head. And it has one fucking fabulous line. "If you can't make words fuck, don't masturbate them." Probably the sagest writing advice ever laid down. Wish I remembered to take it more often.

 

[pensivepoet]

Advice to a Young Writer, Henry Miller

All piffle & twaddle--influence of Bottom Dog man.
For real "decadents" read Huysmans & other French authors.
Diarrhea of words--stew of classic allusions.
Fuck Artemis et alia!
Don't put intellect in your prick!
Write honestly even if poorly.
Humor is weak--immature.
Try drugs and compare two kinds of writing.
Try using only Anglo-Saxon words.
Throw your dictionary away!
Don't mix realism with poetics!
If you can't make words fuck, don't masturbate them!
When you speak of Cunt put hair on it!
Try to forget everything you learned in college.
Try talking like an ignoramus--or an Igaroti.
Read, for emetic, "Palm Wine Drinkard."
You will learn to write only when you stop trying to write.
A line without effort is worth a chapter of push and pull.
First ask yourself if you have anything to say.
Don't draw the pen unless you are ready for the kill.
If you don't get rid of the Classics you'll die of constipation.
Never show any one what you've written until a year or two later.
Use the axe to your 1st draft and not the fine comb.
The latter is for lice.


It speaks to the anti-establishment voice in my head. And it has one fucking fabulous line. "If you can't make words fuck, don't masturbate them." Probably the sagest writing advice ever laid down. Wish I remembered to take it more often.

Glad you said it and not me, you're a smaller target, and i can pull the darts out.

 

[Trixareforkids]

Glad you said it and not me, you're a smaller target, and i can pull the darts out.

Whether that is to be, or not to be we shall see. I'm no noble to be petitioned, all voices are welcome here.

I love a good argument. And I actually don't agree with all of Miller's advice, but on the whole and especially that one line, I'll stand and defend without dodging.

 

[pensivepoet]

Ah, the caveat card! Nicely played, Trix. In that case, i'll stand with you.

 

[Trixareforkids]

Ah, the caveat card! Nicely played, Trix. In that case, i'll stand with you.

Ha, what were ya gonna do before, try to hide behind me? Like my old dog, Wiley, who pops his head between my legs and barks at strangers? LOL

I like humor, the immature are usually more imaginative. And I like mixing the real with the poetic.

So like all advice, I take what suits me and leave the rest behind.

 

[pensivepoet]

LMAO
wiley? There's the user name i shoulda used
Or maybe~ shawn annigans?
Hey! I'm a fierce puppy, i'll stand in front of you and bark.
And for the record, i liked it all.

 

[Trixareforkids]

LMAO
wiley? There's the user name i shoulda used
Or maybe~ shawn annigans?
Hey! I'm a fierce puppy, i'll stand in front of you and bark.
And for the record, i liked it all.

Aww, no humor for you? No silly immaturity?

And the dog was named when we got him, Wiley Coyote. Matched up well with our Shellie who loved to run. Now that she's gone he follows me everywhere. Have to be careful every time I stand to make sure I don't step on him. Poor doll is too old and slow to get out of the way now.

 

[pensivepoet]

Humour? Silly? Me?
I'm a pensive poet, remember?
I'm as serious as the day is long
It was a dark and stormy night
The door slammed
Lightning struck
A shot rang out
the maid screamed
The cow jumped over the moon

 

[Trixareforkids]

And the dish ran away to spoon!

 

[pensivepoet]

And the dish ran away to spoon!

Her cream into his cup

 

[Trixareforkids]

Subscribed!

You two have some of the most intriguing minds. Poetry is everything you both have said here. It's seeing into the mind and heart of another. This comes from the reader's perspective. I am certainly not formally educated. I spend a lot of time looking up words. I'm just an average lady, living an average life, but I have a soul, and that's what it's about.

It's about heart and soul.

I would give anything to be able to write the words. Alas, I can only read them.

You put your heart down on paper, spun into beautiful words. Those words make my heart come alive and I feel everything you write.

I'm gonna love this thread! Thank you Trix and P-poet.

Hi there Love, didn't see this post earlier.

Don't be just a lurker, post a poem that touches you in some way and tell us why you like it. Don't need to be a writer to do that and the more the merrier. There's so much poetry out there that I've not yet read, I'm always finding new poems and poets to love.

 

[twelveoone]

Advice to a Young Writer, Henry Miller



You will learn to write only when you stop trying to write.
A line without effort is worth a chapter of push and pull.
First ask yourself if you have anything to say.
Don't draw the pen unless you are ready for the kill.
If you don't get rid of the Classics you'll die of constipation.
Never show any one what you've written until a year or two later.
Use the axe to your 1st draft and not the fine comb.
The latter is for lice.

I have little heart, and no fucking soul
and this line by saying everything
A line without effort is worth a chapter of push and pull.
says nothing

 

[Trixareforkids]

I have little heart, and no fucking soul
and this line by saying everything
A line without effort is worth a chapter of push and pull.
says nothing

Funny, I quite like that line, I read it as,
trust your gut and don't beat the words to death.

 

[twelveoone]

Funny, I quite like that line, I read it as,
trust your gut and don't beat the words to death.

guts? I understand. Maybe inspired.

Want some? its psilocybin

Yeh, I thought, bad acid
cut with crap

Ginsberg? Ferlingetti, I had no use for

I have enough trouble getting off
the ride in the amusement park
of my mind
Though I read both Burroughs
every word
is a viral load
envined

and sunrise was so beautiful
the lit red of the bricks mixed
with the sight of Linda
from the fire escape
throwing up an offering
of cheap wine to
the winos below

"You're sick"
No, I have an artist's soul
"You're an asshole"
Same thing, I said
in smirky glow

 

[Trixareforkids]

guts? I understand. Maybe inspired.

Want some? its psilocybin

Yeh, I thought, bad acid
cut with crap

Ginsberg? Ferlingetti, I had no use for

I have enough trouble getting off
the ride in the amusement park
of my mind
Though I read both Burroughs
every word
is a viral load
envined

and sunrise was so beautiful
the lit red of the bricks mixed
with the sight of Linda
from the fire escape
throwing up an offering
of cheap wine to
the winos below

"You're sick"
No, I have an artist's soul
"You're an asshole"
Same thing, I said
in smirky glow

God, that's a baby so ugly it makes you laugh.

 

[Trixareforkids]

Lyrical

I mentioned lyrics and the thread title is lifted from Ben Harper, so here's one of my favorites by Ben, Never Leave Lonely Alone

like an old man
sitting alone at a lunch counter
like a small town girl
a big city devours
some of us laugh
even in our darkest hour

never leave lonely alone

unspoken rules of solitude
wound without a trace
a lifetime of dreams roll down your face
all that we can't say
is all we need to hear
when you close your eyes
does the world disappear

there's something in everyone
only they know
it moves in the hidden ways
of joy and sorrow

never leave lonely alone


I think it's a lovely lament on loneliness, the words paint a picture and his voice and the music bring it to life. I also like that depending on where you place punctuation in the title you have many different statements.
Never! Leave lonely, alone.
Never leave! Lonely, alone.
Never. Leave lonely. Alone!

 

[twelveoone]

God, that's a baby so ugly it makes you laugh.

trite sentimentalism
stealing a riff from my doppelganger