16·Nov·2005 · "Under the Black Flag" · twelveoone

[The Poets]

Under the Black Flag
(for those not overly impressed by so-called creative writing, Pulitzers, etc.)

Why speak of the politics of poetics?
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens working lawns before taking wing.
Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart-
dry gurgles. While you bleed out in tweed

on sheets of skin sloughed off laid
out for the cuntish hoards. Is this what
you want -to join the chorus of grunting
bores - of this- you would be king?
Dwarf dung!*


-You are-
beyond those things.

Just paper, as paper it shall be shred.

Come,
.......sing as swung steel does becoming dulled;
.......stand down the wreckage of wood and lead.

Come,
.......the steppes are large and empty. We shall be
.......as reckless missles hurdling* in unguided night.

Alas, wild grasses shall bow their heads before us,
the scourge of dogs, even though we are one.

Come,
.......under the black flag with me.

Come,
.......we shall leave the streets in grease.

Тэмүүжин

*mispronounced Hur dle ling
* Hi Ho​

 

[tarablackwood22]

Under the Black Flag
(for those not overly impressed by so-called creative writing, Pulitzers, etc.)

The parenthetical is not only gratuitous, but has a rebel-without-a-cause, preachy feeling that made me cringe.

Why speak of the politics of poetics? (Insert em dash here + remove hyphen)
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens working lawns before taking wing.
Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart- ***
dry gurgles. While you bleed out in tweed ***

on sheets of skin sloughed off laid *** - These three lines are structurally unsound
out for the cuntish hoards. Is this what
you want -to join the chorus of grunting Replace hyphen with question mark.

...you want? To join the chorus of grunting
bores? Of this, you would be king?

bores - of this- you would be king?
Dwarf dung!* The last line is horrible affectation, both the color and bold print. It should probably be removed totally.


-You are-
beyond those things.

Just paper, as paper it shall be shred.

Come,
.......sing as swung steel does becoming dulled;
.......stand down the wreckage of wood and lead.

Come,
.......the steppes are large and empty. We shall be
.......as reckless missles hurdling* in unguided night. Also, affectation.

Alas, wild grasses shall bow their heads before us,
the scourge of dogs, even though we are one.

Come,
.......under the black flag with me.

Come,
.......we shall leave the streets in grease.

Тэмүүжин Toss this.

*mispronounced Hur dle ling ---Toss this.


IMHO, this poem is wonderful, with the chance to be exceptional upon further editing.

I think it is beautifully structured. The phrasing is solid and crisp, the images very appropriate to the theme, and stunning in spots.

All signs of self-righteousness, of rebellion for rebellion sake, must be removed. The poem speaks for itself.

 

[bogusbrig]

I think this is obviously an attack on polite formula poetry. 'Under The Black Flag' I'm assuming is a calling to armes of anarchists. You start your poem with your own poetic parody and end it with a poetic fart 'Dwarf dung'. Small poetry for small minds? I think you're pointing out, this poetry isn't that hard to write.

A bit of a side point. An English school teacher taught her 14 year old pupils to write like this and they won an awful lot of adult poetry prizes with it too.

Why speak of the politics of poetics?
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens working lawns before taking wing.
Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart-
dry gurgles. While you bleed out in tweed

on sheets of skin sloughed off laid
out for the cuntish hoards. Is this what
you want -to join the chorus of grunting
bores - of this- you would be king?
Dwarf dung!*


-You are-
beyond those things.

We are better than this?

Just paper, as paper it shall be shred.

Come,
.......sing as swung steel does becoming dulled;
.......stand down the wreckage of wood and lead.

Come,
.......the steppes are large and empty. We shall be
.......as reckless missles hurdling* in unguided night.

Alas, wild grasses shall bow their heads before us,
the scourge of dogs, even though we are one.

Come,
.......under the black flag with me.

Come,
.......we shall leave the streets in grease.
Тэмүүжин

I haven't worked out the detail in this yet but it refers to the Mongol hourds marauding across the steppes.

The world of poetry is out there, vast as the steppes and waiting to be discovered and conquered?

Тэмүүжин Refers to Temüjin, the original name of Ghjengis Khan.

Got to think about this a little more for the detail.

I like the poem and its sentiments.

 

[twelveoone]

I think it needs more singing ...and better formating, those white dots, now show as black.

Under the Black Flag
(for those not overly impressed by so-called creative writing, Pulitzers, etc.)

The parenthetical is not only gratuitous, but has a rebel-without-a-cause, preachy feeling that made me cringe.

You're right

Dwarf dung!* The last line is horrible affectation, both the color and bold print. It should probably be removed totally.

original may have been a horrible joke, within a joke, within a joke, you know I can't resist that crap - bolded only because baby shit brown colour don't show up,
in intent - meant as a joke. Oh, well, Eliot and Frost sometimes crack me up.

Тэмүүжин Toss this.

not yet, I am redoing lines, I may need this. Mongolian for "iron worker" - I may mine this further, har, har.

All signs of self-righteousness, of rebellion for rebellion sake, must be removed. The poem speaks for itself.[/color]

maybe, maybe...does need editing, tightening, filling out, as per usual, you hit all the sore spots. As per usual, I agree with some, disagree with some, and am happy you didn't tear apart my prize lines.

Tara, I have a big idiot grin on my face, that is how much it pleases me. I have learned much about structure just by reading you. So this I take as a high compliment "I think it is beautifully structured."

 

[wildsweetone]

Under the Black Flag
(for those not overly impressed by so-called creative writing, Pulitzers, etc.)

Why speak of the politics of poetics?
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens working lawns before taking wing.
Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart-
dry gurgles. While you bleed out in tweed

on sheets of skin sloughed off laid
out for the cuntish hoards. Is this what
you want -to join the chorus of grunting
bores - of this- you would be king?
Dwarf dung!*


-You are-
beyond those things.

Just paper, as paper it shall be shred.

Come,
.......sing as swung steel does becoming dulled;
.......stand down the wreckage of wood and lead.

Come,
.......the steppes are large and empty. We shall be
.......as reckless missles hurdling* in unguided night.

Alas, wild grasses shall bow their heads before us,
the scourge of dogs, even though we are one.

Come,
.......under the black flag with me.

Come,
.......we shall leave the streets in grease.

Тэмүүжин

*mispronounced Hur dle ling
* Hi Ho​

pulitzers and creative writing have their place, i'm sure, and knowing you, this is not a poem that's about what i see, more it's about what i don't see, so i'm not commenting on the latter.

(for those not overly impressed by so-called creative writing, Pulitzers, etc.)

is there a reason for including this in the poem?

Why speak of the politics of poetics?
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens working lawns before taking wing.

you follow a question with a statement, or should it be two questions?

Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart-
dry gurgles.

doesn't quite make 'sense'.

perhaps it could be 'baby's dry heart gurgles' or something ?


i don't like the word 'laid' at the end of line 6, it doesn't read right to me.

do you mean to say that a 'grunting bore' is the same as a 'cuntish hoard'? to me they are different genders.

and the hyphens in that 'sentence' seem unnecessary, i'd try commas and see if it says the same thing.

Dwarf dung

i don't get this nor the colour, except is it merely an expletive? if so, it doesn't seem to fit with the metaphors already used.


you use the words 'steppes' and 'missiles' within the same stanza. is there a reason for old and new being flung together? (sorry i don't know enough to know why.)

is it necessary to have an explanation for the pronounciation of a word? i.e. 'hurdling'? i've not seen that before in poetry.

why shall you leave the streets in 'grease' and what does 'grease' mean, to me it's not clear. the word 'blood' or something similar might have worked. grease doesn't seem to 'fit' with what you've said.

i looked up 'Тэмүүжин' and discovered a little - Genghis Khan, which might explain the 'black flag' and swords etc. but if you are writing in his name, then i doubt he would be using the word 'missiles', should your language be of his era, his ability?

okay, there's no need to answer any of these questions. you realise i don't fully understand what you've written. this is just my pennyworth's and well, perhaps something may be useful. thanks for letting me comment.



ps what the heck is 'Hi Ho' all about?

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

I definately like the title. I like the tone that it sets...

That said, I fear I am one of those not impressed by creative writing?!?...My first impression is to say that I find your line structure often awkward. Also, although it doesn't necessarily need tossing, I agree with Tara that the last two lines need some sort of revision or transition to them or something. In my opinion they're overdone at the moment, although I can't think how exactly to improve them.

Okay, now with that over...for the creative part I will admit it is different from most poems. Although overall I like the feel of the poem it doesn't move me emotionally (then again, I don't believe it is meant to).

I almost feel insulted/insulting by commenting on it though,

"Why speak of the politics of poetics?"...
"...Is this what
you want -to join the chorus of grunting
bores - of this- you would be king?"

Maybe it's just me, but I don't think this poem lends itself well to criticism...once again, that's just my opinion though...

Good luck & hopefully you will get many comments, much more constructive than mine...

 

[flyguy69]

Hmmm. Well, I'll take the minority opinion here and say that I don't find this remotely appealing. The pretentiousness and narrow scope make me wonder if editing is worthwhile here. Sorry, 12, and it is by no means personal.

The poem begins with a dismissal of the value of discussing the politics of poetics. But then procedes to do just that.

The imagery is both ineffective and contradictory: the poetry being dismissed is first likened to "small birds singing in the spring," presumably to show its limited value, yet for most reader small birds singing in the spring will be first a beautiful image, not something unimportant. Later, this poetry is liked to "wood and lead." Here, the image works as a pejorative, but it contradicts the earlier image of small birds on spring lawns. It also follows an image of "better" poetry being like steel slamming into wreckage, which contradicts the notion of "wood and lead" being poor.

The followers of "poor poetry" are called "cuntish hoards" and "grunting bores", yet later the followers of "good poetry" are metaphorized as the Huns sweeping across the steppes of Asia. Why "cuntish hoards" and "grunting bores" would prefer the music of small birds is never addressed, but they would certainly rally around the destructive, and presumably good, poetry of the final strophe.

The conceit of the narrator is off-putting to readers. By dismissing the poetry of Pulitzer Prize winning writers, anyone that likes a poem they have read by an author that won a Pulitzer immediately has their own taste called into question. Whether the Pulitzer is a guarantee of quality or not, there is a large corpus of good poetry out there by authors on the list of winners.

There is a pretentious tone is makes the narrator come across as smug: "Rally 'round me, boys! Forget what you've learned until now, I'll show you what is good in the world!" Since the failings of "bad poetry" are not established earlier, the narrator's call rings hollow.

Finally, the narrow scope of a poem that seems to very specifically address the recent discussion here at Lit about the Pulitzer Prize makes me wonder if the author really intends to take this poem out of this forum at all, and if not, why bother to edit it? If it is written for a small circle of like-minded friends, it is already complete.

I, too, like the structure of the poem. I just wish it had something more interesting to say.

 

[bogusbrig]

In defence

There is a pretentious tone is makes the narrator come across as smug: "Rally 'round me, boys! Forget what you've learned until now, I'll show you what is good in the world!" Since the failings of "bad poetry" are not established earlier, the narrator's call rings hollow.

Finally, the narrow scope of a poem that seems to very specifically address the recent discussion here at Lit about the Pulitzer Prize makes me wonder if the author really intends to take this poem out of this forum at all, and if not, why bother to edit it? If it is written for a small circle of like-minded friends, it is already complete.

I suppose our differing views of 12's poem is based on how we approach it. In 12's work I often see something of Alfred Jarry, Tzara, Dada, Surrealism, Punk, Pop Art etc, something akin to The Theatre Of The Absurd, Agit-prop, only more sophisticated, though this is not one of his more sophisticated pieces. It smashes the door of complacency down and makes one re-examen poetry and look at it afresh, he does it well because he can parody so well and he has the knowledge to back it up. 12 has often declined to call himself a poet but to me he is more than a poet, he is an artist in the true sense of the word. I only wish I had his eye for the absurd and taking a pop at an art form that too often is full of it's own self importance. Yet nowadays all too often this self importance takes poetry no further than the subject matter of the poet her/himself, who in many of the poems that win prizes is the subject of the poem. Poetry has rejected big issues and avoided polemic beyond the personal. As Adrian Mitchell said, way back in 1964, 'Most people ignore poetry because most poetry ignores most people.' Little has changed. Pinter was recently lambasted by much of the poetry establishment for writing an anti-war poem, the reason mostly cited was that it was crude polemic, yet the poem, by taking on an issue of the moment spread to an audience beyond the normal poetry reading audience, something his critics would give their eye teeth for. Poetry needs someone to blast the twittering birds out of the trees now and again and make us take another look. It is after all these twittering birds that threaten to spread the deadly bird flu and in poetry, deadly complacency.

 

[flyguy69]

Oh, please be very, very careful, BB: I am not critiqueing the poet. At all. I am critiquing this poem, and only this poem.

I suppose our differing views of 12's poem is based on how we approach it. In 12's work I often see something of Alfred Jarry, Tzara, Dada, Surrealism, Punk, Pop Art etc. only more sophisticated, something akin to The Theatre Of The Absurd, Agit-prop. It smashes the door of complacency down and makes one re-examen poetry and look at it afresh, he does it well because he can parody so well and he has the knowledge to back it up. 12 has often declined to call himself a poet but to me he is more than a poet, he is an artist in the true sense of the word. I only wish I had his eye for the absurd and taking a pop at an art form that too often is full of it's own self importance. Yet nowadays all too often this self importance takes poetry no further than the subject matter of the poet her/himself, who in many of the poems that win prizes is the subject of the poem. Poetry has rejected big issues and avoided polemic beyond the personal. As Adrian Mitchell said, way back in 1964, 'Most people ignore poetry because most poetry ignores most people.' Little has changed. Pinter was recently lambasted by much of the poetry establishment for writing an anti-war poem, the reason mostly cited was that it was crude polemic, yet the poem, by taking on an issue of the moment spread to an audience beyond the normal poetry reading audience, something his critics would give their eye teeth for. Poetry needs someone to blast the twittering birds out of the trees now and again and make us take another look. It is after all these twittering birds that threaten to spread the deadly bird flu and in poetry, deadly complacency.

 

[bogusbrig]

Oh, please be very, very careful, BB: I am not critiqueing the poet. At all. I am critiquing this poem, and only this poem.

I understand that. Though maybe I went off on a bit of a flourish. It isn't one of his better poems, I have to admit but it has some nice touches.

 

[flyguy69]

I understand that. Though maybe I went off on a bit of a flourish. It isn't one of his better poems, I have to admit but it has some nice touches.

Ha! Maybe that is why I was so hard on it! You set me up, 12!

 

[twelveoone]

I think this is obviously an attack on polite formula poetry. 'Under The Black Flag' I'm assuming is a calling to armes of anarchists. You start your poem with your own poetic parody and end it with a poetic fart 'Dwarf dung'. Small poetry for small minds? I think you're pointing out, this poetry isn't that hard to write.

A bit of a side point. An English school teacher taught her 14 year old pupils to write like this and they won an awful lot of adult poetry prizes with it too.


Тэмүүжин Refers to Temüjin, the original name of Ghjengis Khan.

Got to think about this a little more for the detail.

I like the poem and its sentiments.

answers and question? It is an attack, but not only on "polite", it is a reaction, primarily to the readings of two women poets of some note (Will mention later, and why). Broadly it is a reaction to any pre-conceived notions of what poetry is or should be, and it is meant to be a bit of provocation.

Skimming down to another answer of yours, that is what I trying for, it may play better to an European audience, but America needs it more.

But, why do you refer to it as a parody?

I really thought I was emulating Yeats
Well, at least remarkably linear for me, eh, Bog?

All, I have time for - thanks to those below, and any others that may - will comment later. Hopefully, will have some sort of revision up, as said, Tara hit alot of the sore points, and I agree with some of them.

BTW "creative writing" I presume is a bit of an American phenomena, is it not? I'm all for learning to write, learning to write well, hell I try - but I'll go learn how to be creative from my kids - if they'll teach me.

 

[Tzara]

Under the Black Flag
(for those not overly impressed by so-called creative writing, Pulitzers, etc.)

Why speak of the politics of poetics?
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens working lawns before taking wing.
Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart-
dry gurgles. While you bleed out in tweed

on sheets of skin sloughed off laid
out for the cuntish hoards. Is this what
you want -to join the chorus of grunting
bores - of this- you would be king?
Dwarf dung!*


-You are-
beyond those things.

Just paper, as paper it shall be shred.

Come,
.......sing as swung steel does becoming dulled;
.......stand down the wreckage of wood and lead.

Come,
.......the steppes are large and empty. We shall be
.......as reckless missles hurdling* in unguided night.

Alas, wild grasses shall bow their heads before us,
the scourge of dogs, even though we are one.

Come,
.......under the black flag with me.

Come,
.......we shall leave the streets in grease.

Тэмүүжин

*mispronounced Hur dle ling
* Hi Ho​

I don't have a lot of time this morning to comment, but let me at least get started.

This is the poem as polemic. I think the line Why speak of the politics of poetics? should be read not as a comment on the pointlessness of talking about politics and poetry, but rather a statement something like "why should we talk about politics and poetry?" The rest of the poem then goes on to try and show why, however sketchily.

As polemic, it has necessarily limited appeal. It seems better suited to being printed on flyers and pasted onto telephone poles as street art than be refined for publication of some kind. How elegant does one need to be to say "fuck you, establishment poetry"?

The Genghis Khan/Mongol horde metaphor also seems, at least to me, a little obscure. It might be more clear to someone with my traditional male Eurocentric upbringing to use something like Luther nailing his theses to the door of the Wittenberg church (aka, the chapel of poetry in the universal church of art) as a central metaphor. Or perhaps Ragnarök, the overthrow and death of the gods in Norse mythology. But, it ain't my poem.

The title: "Black flag" is a term that can encompass many meanings or referents. I happen to think of the following, in roughly this order:

• Traditional symbol of anarchy. Associated with the Paris Commune and, particularly, with groups fighting in the Russian Revolution (see this reference, for example). This reference initially seems to be reinforced by the use of the Cyrillic characters at the end of the poem.
• Piracy. There is actually a book on piracy by David Cordingly titled Under the Black Flag.
• Black Flag the punk band headed by singer/poet Henry Rollins.
• The American insecticide brand, Black Flag.
• The Pirate King's song in The Pirates of Penzance:
  
  Oh, better far to live and die
  Under the brave black flag I fly,
  Than play a sanctimonious part
  With a pirate head and a pirate heart.

There is also some indication that Genghis Khan's armies flew a black flag in battle, which given the controlling metaphor seems likely to be the main reference.

I happen to like the Gilbert and Sullivan reference the best, though.

'Bout all I can do now. I have to go try and charm people into buying some database software.

Hi ho, hi ho! It's off to work I go!

Sorry. That's not quite right.

 

[bogusbrig]

But, why do you refer to it as a parody?

I really thought I was emulating Yeats

Funny you should say that. When I first skimmed it I thought it was!

 

[twelveoone]

I don't have a lot of time this morning to comment, but let me at least get started.

This is the poem as polemic. I think the line Why speak of the politics of poetics? should be read not as a comment on the pointlessness of talking about politics and poetry, but rather a statement something like "why should we talk about politics and poetry?" The rest of the poem then goes on to try and show why, however sketchily.

As polemic, it has necessarily limited appeal. It seems better suited to being printed on flyers and pasted onto telephone poles as street art than be refined for publication of some kind. How elegant does one need to be to say "fuck you, establishment poetry"?

The Genghis Khan/Mongol horde metaphor also seems, at least to me, a little obscure. It might be more clear to someone with my traditional male Eurocentric upbringing to use something like Luther nailing his theses to the door of the Wittenberg church (aka, the chapel of poetry in the universal church of art) as a central metaphor. Or perhaps Ragnarök, the overthrow and death of the gods in Norse mythology. But, it ain't my poem.

The title: "Black flag" is a term that can encompass many meanings or referents. I happen to think of the following, in roughly this order:

• Traditional symbol of anarchy. Associated with the Paris Commune and, particularly, with groups fighting in the Russian Revolution (see this reference, for example). This reference initially seems to be reinforced by the use of the Cyrillic characters at the end of the poem.
• Piracy. There is actually a book on piracy by David Cordingly titled Under the Black Flag.
• Black Flag the punk band headed by singer/poet Henry Rollins.
• The American insecticide brand, Black Flag.
• The Pirate King's song in The Pirates of Penzance:
  
  Oh, better far to live and die
  Under the brave black flag I fly,
  Than play a sanctimonious part
  With a pirate head and a pirate heart.

There is also some indication that Genghis Khan's armies flew a black flag in battle, which given the controlling metaphor seems likely to be the main reference.

I happen to like the Gilbert and Sullivan reference the best, though.

'Bout all I can do now. I have to go try and charm people into buying some database software.

Hi ho, hi ho! It's off to work I go!

Sorry. That's not quite right.

Rolling on the floor laughing...didn't Luther fart at the devil, I like that, but that would be too obvious
...no, no, no, it ain't my poem
hmm, I happened to be in a bookstore saw the Cordingly book, should I buy it, or should I buy "Ariel" by Sylvia Plath, (or Sharon Olds) sez I to myself, Grumpy I didn't have the money to buy both. or why should I buy any of them?

There is the genesis...

this is a very important question, you ask
How elegant does one need to be to say "fuck you, establishment poetry"?
I guess it depends, eh?

Тэмүүжин is Mongolian (they use Cyrillic characters in Mongolia ) for iron worker, I guess a closer meaning would be blacksmith.

Tzara, I hope you know I am not laughing at you, but rather, I hope with you.
thank you

Sorry for the out of sequence....

 

[Tzara]

OK. Me again. Yeah, yeah. Set the snooze button. I'm OK with that.

Another brief little comment. Real life is real busy right now. Surprise surprise.

About this part:

While you bleed out in tweed

on sheets of skin sloughed off laid
out for the cuntish hoards. Is this what
you want -to join the chorus of grunting
bores - of this- you would be king?​

Let me step over the misuse of hyphens for dashes and focus on the language. Particularly the phrase cuntish hoards.

This is an odd phrase.

It is a crude phrase. For someone of my generation (oh, sixties, oh seventies, oh Gloria, oh Betty), it is not only rude, it is particularly provoking. One just doesn't say things in that way.

Which, I suspect, is the point.

Let's start with the obvious: the internal rhyme of "cuntish hoards" and "grunting bores."

Yep, acknowledged. "Clever!" "Tasteful!" "Magnificent use of language!"

OK, then:

I spent some time thinking about whether the phrase "cuntish hoards" was some kind of clever pun for "Kentish hordes," but I couldn't come up with anything that made that work. (Sigh. That would have been brilliant.) Perhaps it is, as a very subtle take on, oh say, Wat Tyler's Rebellion. If so, that's too complex for me, and may I wish "God bless ye" to anyone who can take that interpretation farther.

Anyways.

My initial puzzlement here was with the use of the word "hoards" (a supply or fund stored up and often hidden away) rather than, what would in context make more sense to me, "hordes" (a teeming crowd or throng : SWARM). Particularly, when one considers the Genghis Khan metaphor, the other meaning of "horde": a : a political subdivision of central Asian nomads b : a people or tribe of nomadic life.

If I know anything about 1201 it is that he is very smart and very literate. He is also often crude, obnoxious, and combative.

So I don't think this was a spelling error or a mistaken homonym. This was deliberate.

So what does it mean?

I think this is kind of a double entendre for hoard and horde: an over-estrogenized storehouse of poetry dumped out for either storage (a "cuntish hoard") or as a feminist assault on other, particularly male, poetry (o'ertaken by the cuntish horde).

Then there's the whole homonymic thang 'bout "cuntish whores."

Unfortunately there seems to be no baseball on the telly. Perhaps I should read some Jorie Graham to pass the time, eh?

I have a coat I am wearing I was told to wear it.
Someone knelt down each morning to button it up.
I looked at their face, down low, near me.
What is longing? what is a star?​

Perhaps I should watch the DVD of the divine Gwyneth as Sylvia Plath?

 

[twelveoone]

I definately like the title. I like the tone that it sets...

That said, I fear I am one of those not impressed by creative writing?!?...My first impression is to say that I find your line structure often awkward. Also, although it doesn't necessarily need tossing, I agree with Tara that the last two lines need some sort of revision or transition to them or something. In my opinion they're overdone at the moment, although I can't think how exactly to improve them.

Okay, now with that over...for the creative part I will admit it is different from most poems. Although overall I like the feel of the poem it doesn't move me emotionally (then again, I don't believe it is meant to).

I almost feel insulted/insulting by commenting on it though,

"Why speak of the politics of poetics?"...
"...Is this what
you want -to join the chorus of grunting
bores - of this- you would be king?"

Maybe it's just me, but I don't think this poem lends itself well to criticism...once again, that's just my opinion though...

Good luck & hopefully you will get many comments, much more constructive than mine...

Thank you, but I changed the title
General question would be why to the two comments in bold.
Thank you again

 

[twelveoone]

pulitzers and creative writing have their place, i'm sure, and knowing you, this is not a poem that's about what i see, more it's about what i don't see, so i'm not commenting on the latter.


is there a reason for including this in the poem?



you follow a question with a statement, or should it be two questions?



doesn't quite make 'sense'.

perhaps it could be 'baby's dry heart gurgles' or something ?


i don't like the word 'laid' at the end of line 6, it doesn't read right to me.

do you mean to say that a 'grunting bore' is the same as a 'cuntish hoard'? to me they are different genders.

and the hyphens in that 'sentence' seem unnecessary, i'd try commas and see if it says the same thing.


i don't get this nor the colour, except is it merely an expletive? if so, it doesn't seem to fit with the metaphors already used.


you use the words 'steppes' and 'missiles' within the same stanza. is there a reason for old and new being flung together? (sorry i don't know enough to know why.)

is it necessary to have an explanation for the pronounciation of a word? i.e. 'hurdling'? i've not seen that before in poetry.

why shall you leave the streets in 'grease' and what does 'grease' mean, to me it's not clear. the word 'blood' or something similar might have worked. grease doesn't seem to 'fit' with what you've said.

i looked up 'Тэмүүжин' and discovered a little - Genghis Khan, which might explain the 'black flag' and swords etc. but if you are writing in his name, then i doubt he would be using the word 'missiles', should your language be of his era, his ability?

okay, there's no need to answer any of these questions. you realise i don't fully understand what you've written. this is just my pennyworth's and well, perhaps something may be useful. thanks for letting me comment.



ps what the heck is 'Hi Ho' all about?

Dwarfs, Hi-ho is a double reference, one to Snow White a signal a contrast was coming up. I thought undersized exclamation was a stroke of genius, but I can't resist fooling around . The other was a self reference to another work of mine, where something unusual happens in the course of the "poem".
It is gone.
-ish is a perjortiative suffix, has nothing to do with gender, i.e. I am not talking about women only here.
missile is also correct usage for the time.
other things have been addressed, or are mote.
Thank you

 

[twelveoone]

Hmmm. Well, I'll take the minority opinion here and say that I don't find this remotely appealing. The pretentiousness and narrow scope make me wonder if editing is worthwhile here. Sorry, 12, and it is by no means personal.

The poem begins with a dismissal of the value of discussing the politics of poetics. But then procedes to do just that.

The imagery is both ineffective and contradictory: the poetry being dismissed is first likened to "small birds singing in the spring," presumably to show its limited value, yet for most reader small birds singing in the spring will be first a beautiful image, not something unimportant. Later, this poetry is liked to "wood and lead." Here, the image works as a pejorative, but it contradicts the earlier image of small birds on spring lawns. It also follows an image of "better" poetry being like steel slamming into wreckage, which contradicts the notion of "wood and lead" being poor.

The followers of "poor poetry" are called "cuntish hoards" and "grunting bores", yet later the followers of "good poetry" are metaphorized as the Huns sweeping across the steppes of Asia. Why "cuntish hoards" and "grunting bores" would prefer the music of small birds is never addressed, but they would certainly rally around the destructive, and presumably good, poetry of the final strophe.

The conceit of the narrator is off-putting to readers. By dismissing the poetry of Pulitzer Prize winning writers, anyone that likes a poem they have read by an author that won a Pulitzer immediately has their own taste called into question. Whether the Pulitzer is a guarantee of quality or not, there is a large corpus of good poetry out there by authors on the list of winners.

There is a pretentious tone is makes the narrator come across as smug: "Rally 'round me, boys! Forget what you've learned until now, I'll show you what is good in the world!" Since the failings of "bad poetry" are not established earlier, the narrator's call rings hollow.

Finally, the narrow scope of a poem that seems to very specifically address the recent discussion here at Lit about the Pulitzer Prize makes me wonder if the author really intends to take this poem out of this forum at all, and if not, why bother to edit it? If it is written for a small circle of like-minded friends, it is already complete.

I, too, like the structure of the poem. I just wish it had something more interesting to say.

Inherent flaws in logic here, starting with "I'll take the minority opinion" and then
"narrow scope make me wonder if editing is worthwhile here."
Sorry, fly, I can't see what you see, often we see things quite differently. Bogus suggested an excellent way to read me, if you wish to try to understand, indeed, this is a polemic, but it is a polemic against "narrow scope" both in reading and writing - I think I am in minority here. Hopefully, the newer version, is a little clearer, and of course I editted it. And will do so. again. and again.

 

[twelveoone]

OK. Me again. Yeah, yeah. Set the snooze button. I'm OK with that.

Another brief little comment. Real life is real busy right now. Surprise surprise.

About this part:

While you bleed out in tweed

on sheets of skin sloughed off laid
out for the cuntish hoards. Is this what
you want -to join the chorus of grunting
bores - of this- you would be king?​

Let me step over the misuse of hyphens for dashes and focus on the language. Particularly the phrase cuntish hoards.

This is an odd phrase.

It is a crude phrase. For someone of my generation (oh, sixties, oh seventies, oh Gloria, oh Betty), it is not only rude, it is particularly provoking. One just doesn't say things in that way.

Which, I suspect, is the point.

Let's start with the obvious: the internal rhyme of "cuntish hoards" and "grunting bores."

Yep, acknowledged. "Clever!" "Tasteful!" "Magnificent use of language!"

OK, then:

I spent some time thinking about whether the phrase "cuntish hoards" was some kind of clever pun for "Kentish hordes," but I couldn't come up with anything that made that work. (Sigh. That would have been brilliant.) Perhaps it is, as a very subtle take on, oh say, Wat Tyler's Rebellion. If so, that's too complex for me, and may I wish "God bless ye" to anyone who can take that interpretation farther.

Anyways.

My initial puzzlement here was with the use of the word "hoards" (a supply or fund stored up and often hidden away) rather than, what would in context make more sense to me, "hordes" (a teeming crowd or throng : SWARM). Particularly, when one considers the Genghis Khan metaphor, the other meaning of "horde": a : a political subdivision of central Asian nomads b : a people or tribe of nomadic life.

If I know anything about 1201 it is that he is very smart and very literate. He is also often crude, obnoxious, and combative.

So I don't think this was a spelling error or a mistaken homonym. This was deliberate.

So what does it mean?

I think this is kind of a double entendre for hoard and horde: an over-estrogenized storehouse of poetry dumped out for either storage (a "cuntish hoard") or as a feminist assault on other, particularly male, poetry (o'ertaken by the cuntish horde).

Then there's the whole homonymic thang 'bout "cuntish whores."

Unfortunately there seems to be no baseball on the telly. Perhaps I should read some Jorie Graham to pass the time, eh?

I have a coat I am wearing I was told to wear it.
Someone knelt down each morning to button it up.
I looked at their face, down low, near me.
What is longing? what is a star?​

Perhaps I should watch the DVD of the divine Gwyneth as Sylvia Plath?

Gah, Jorie, wrecker of Dante (at least she only did one Canto) Let me thank you, I quit goofing around, and did some re-writing, thank you for the new title, BTW.

and maybe the star you see is the Walk of Fame I see other stars.

Just between, you and I, (since nobody else is paying attention) the story about the book store is largely true. I found reading (on the cheap) both Plath, and I think Olds, liberating and also offensive. After reading two different poems about their fathers, my thought was "leave it on the couch bitch", my second was I was offended, what can I do, a poor humble lad from the sticks, to out offend. I'm hope I'm getting there. Poetry as propaganda. Or worse, self-advertisement i.e. I'm fucked up, it's not my fault, see I write beautifully.
On to "Тэмүүжин" this was a deliberate choice - his military tactics are simillar to the way I write, very deceptive, things are never what they seem to be. The feigned retreat and trap being close to the supposed misuse. I also needed something very alien - throwing "Genghis" out there, well everyone has that image, and it robs one of the multiple meaning - again "iron worker" is the name, a step down from craftsman, eh? And I am homesick, after all.

Thank you Tzara, very much, thank you Bogusbrig, who is a very good reader of me, and Tarablackwood22 who has taught me more about the relationship of one word to the rest than anyone else, with the possibel exception of Eliot.

Tzara, I stole a line (sort of) and buried it, it has a relationship with the addresees. Which again could refer to something else, and is often used as a pejorative term.

 

[twelveoone]

Polemic

Polemic (retitled, and edited to this point)

Fellow Travelers,

Why speak of the politics of poetics?
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens on lawns before taking wing.
Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart-

these dry gurgles, this bleating out in tweed
on sheets of skin sloughed off, preciously laid
out for cuntish hoards. Want this, proteges?
Join the chorus of grunting bores? Applause.

Your Papers, as paper it shall be shred.
-You are-
beyond those things.

Come,
learn to work iron, and with this metal make
blades, to pierce to the root and all.

Come,
sing as swung steel does becoming dulled
with clash, amid wreckage of wood and lead.

Come,
the steppes are large, and empty,
save for the grass and stars that laugh.

Come,
under the black flag with me,

Come,
let us leave the streets in grease.

I am
your brother,
Тэмүүжин

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

I definitely prefer your revised version over the original. It seems much clearer in meaning and more polished in general.

In regards to your comment about the original version of your poem,

Thank you, but I changed the title
General question would be why to the two comments in bold.
Thank you again

My first comment, "I almost feel insulted/insulting by commenting on it" was because I felt like this was an anti-establishment poem. Actually looking back on the comment now I think I was just being sensitive because I was trying to figure out as a reader/critic if the only type of comments I could offer would be ones based on the poetry that I know to be good "established" poems. By commenting on your poem I was uncertain whether or not I was fairly judging it for what it was or if I was only capable of judging it for how it compares to other poems I have read. Although this is somewhat true whenever commenting, your poem reminded me of that fact.

My second comment, "Maybe it's just me, but I don't think this poem lends itself well to criticism...once again, that's just my opinion though..." also had to do with the anti-establishment way that I perceived the poem. In my opinion, commenting on it and suggesting methods of improvement, in some ways, tries to make it more like the established norm (presuming there is one), which goes against the way I perceived the poem...

For me some of the most powerful lines in the poem are,

Under the Black Flag
(for those not overly impressed by so-called creative writing, Pulitzers, etc.)

Why speak of the politics of poetics?
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter

on sheets of skin sloughed off laid
out for the cuntish hoards. Is this what
you want -to join the chorus of grunting
bores - of this- you would be king?
Dwarf dung!*

-You are-
beyond those things.

Come,
.......under the black flag with me.

At the time I commented I was focusing a large amount of my comments on these lines only and how I perceived them. After first critising established poetry, I felt you were criticising those who supported it, then saying how the reader was beyond that. By commenting on the poem I, to some extent, thought that the last two parts I quoted from your poem weren't being achieved by the reader (the reader was failing the writer)...

I have no idea if this explanation makes sense. Hopefully it does.

Whether it helps or not, well done on the revision. I can't wait to see what the final version will look like (although this version is quite good IMHO)

 

[bogusbrig]

Polemic (retitled, and edited to this point)

Fellow Travelers,

Why speak of the politics of poetics?
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens on lawns before taking wing.
Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart-

these dry gurgles, this bleating out in tweed
on sheets of skin sloughed off, preciously laid
out for cuntish hoards. Want this, proteges?
Join the chorus of grunting bores? Applause.

Your Papers, as paper it shall be shred.
-You are-
beyond those things.

Come,
learn to work iron, and with this metal make
blades, to pierce to the root and all.

Come,
sing as swung steel does becoming dulled
with clash, amid wreckage of wood and lead.

Come,
the steppes are large, and empty,
save for the grass and stars that laugh.

Come,
under the black flag with me,

Come,
let us leave the streets in grease.

I am
your brother,
Тэмүүжин

Maybe it's just me but what makes this poem and makes it worth reading as a poem and not just as a polemic rant, is something I sense in most of your poetry and that is a sense of irony. I read this and I see larger than life heroic imagery, almost as mad as a communist dictator would have produced but it's too clever to be reduced to just that. You play games with the reader who never knows if s/he is being taken for a ride, whether they agree with you or not or whether they like the poem or not. I'm often confused by you but confused in a stimulating way and not just baffled.

 

[tarablackwood22]

Polemic (retitled, and edited to this point)

Fellow Travelers,

Why speak of the politics of poetics?
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens on lawns before taking wing.
Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart-

these dry gurgles, this bleating out in tweed
on sheets of skin sloughed off, preciously laid
out for cuntish hoards. Want this, proteges?
Join the chorus of grunting bores? Applause.

Your Papers, as paper it shall be shred.
-You are-
beyond those things.

Come,
learn to work iron, and with this metal make
blades, to pierce to the root and all.

Come,
sing as swung steel does becoming dulled
with clash, amid wreckage of wood and lead.

Come,
the steppes are large, and empty,
save for the grass and stars that laugh.

Come,
under the black flag with me,

Come,
let us leave the streets in grease.

I am
your brother,
Тэмүүжин

Polemic (retitled, and edited to this point)

IMO, the title change was for the worse. It carries with it the pretentiousness you have managed to remove from most of the poem with some pretty good editing –

The topic you write about is not polemic at all, except within a small circle of comrades. If you understand that, you will see that this new title has 'Pompous' written all over it.

In that mold, howling from an unheard corner, it is hard for one not to have a sense that your complaints are cloaked with envy, so you must be especially careful the poem does not speak with green innards – To be controversial, a topic must have two known, large, and well-spoken-for sides. If one is too small, it merely takes the appearance of a lunatic fringe, standing at a feeble barricade.

So, the poem speaks better, IMO, without you making an announcement right off that it is going to be some sort of opinion paper, or lecture, or chiding.

I suggest you reclaim “Under the Black Flag”.

Fellow Travelers, <---- Why? Now in the form of a letter? You are trying to force in the troublesome signature that you love so much, aren’t you. It shows, and is not an improvement. Dump the salutation.

Why speak of the politics of poetics? <---- This strophe is very good, and by dropping the last line down to the next, the em dash I suggested earlier is no longer needed. The two hyphens work just fine.
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens on lawns before taking wing.
Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart-

these dry gurgles, this bleating out in tweed dropping this line down one strophe was excellent
on sheets of skin sloughed off, preciously laid
out for cuntish hoards. Want this, proteges? ***
Join the chorus of grunting bores? Applause. *** these two lines are weaker than before. Far better was:

…………………………………Is this what
you want, to join the chorus of grunting
bores? Of this, you would be king?

I am assuming you received a suggestion for the one-word sentence “Applause” from someone. Bad idea.

It is not only an affectation, but severely affects the rhythm and the grace of the language, which up to these two lines have been very good. You must be able to see that, with your skills.

Or, perhaps you’re trying a bit too hard to be different, to be the rebel, and thus are losing the handle from time to time, and letting that desire speak, rather than the words themselves?


Your Papers, as paper it shall be shred. <---excellent, even the capital ‘P’
-You are-
beyond those things.

Come, the one tab indents worked well in these strophes that begin with the word “Come” – put them back

Come,
.........learn to work iron, and with this metal make

learn to work iron, and with this metal make
blades, to pierce to the root and all. <----- much weaker than the line before it

Come, Nice strophe. I like it a lot (especially if stuctured as it was in the earlier draft). And from here on, until the signing, I think it’s very well done.
sing as swung steel does becoming dulled
with clash, amid wreckage of wood and lead.

Come,
the steppes are large, and empty,
save for the grass and stars that laugh.

Come,
under the black flag with me,

Come,
let us leave the streets in grease. It should end here!!

I am This is awful, IMO. Very pretentious, and ruinous to the poem as a whole. You are not letting the poem and the words do the talking themselves, but forcing them on the eyes. This just has to go. I think it sends a good poem down the drain.
your brother,
Тэмүүжин

 

[twelveoone]

Polemic (retitled, and edited to this point)

IMO, the title change was for the worse. It carries with it the pretentiousness you have managed to remove from most of the poem with some pretty good editing –

The topic you write about is not polemic at all, except within a small circle of comrades. If you understand that, you will see that this new title has 'Pompous' written all over it.

In that mold, howling from an unheard corner, it is hard for one not to have a sense that your complaints are cloaked with envy, so you must be especially careful the poem does not speak with green innards – To be controversial, a topic must have two known, large, and well-spoken-for sides. If one is too small, it merely takes the appearance of a lunatic fringe, standing at a feeble barricade.

So, the poem speaks better, IMO, without you making an announcement right off that it is going to be some sort of opinion paper, or lecture, or chiding.

I suggest you reclaim “Under the Black Flag”.

Fellow Travelers, <---- Why? Now in the form of a letter? You are trying to force in the troublesome signature that you love so much, aren’t you. It shows, and is not an improvement. Dump the salutation.

Responds, very carefully to the person he fears most
po·lem·ic ( P ) Pronunciation Key (p-lmk)
n.

1. A controversial argument, especially one refuting or attacking a specific opinion or doctrine.
2. A person engaged in or inclined to controversy, argument, or refutation.

go with def #2, I am not making an argument, no attempt is made at persuasion.

I am no more the great Khan, than either Pound or Browning was Sordello or Paracelsus. "polemic" has a great sound to it, especially for what is written after it. In effect a persona. Content is weak, I don't think it stands alone as "poetry", however, as a statement of work and as an audience test, it serves well.
"Fellow Travelers" is a pejorative term most often used (at least to my knowledge) used against those that were not rabidly anti-communistists in the 50's, it has been appropiated and used as a from of counter -ridecule since. It also serves another purpose.

Why speak of the politics of poetics? <---- This strophe is very good, and by dropping the last line down to the next, the em dash I suggested earlier is no longer needed. The two hyphens work just fine.
-To sing as small birds in spring, with stutter
steps of wrens on lawns before taking wing.
Warbling words to the beat of a baby's heart-

these dry gurgles, this bleating out in tweed dropping this line down one strophe was excellent
on sheets of skin sloughed off, preciously laid
out for cuntish hoards. Want this, proteges? ***
Join the chorus of grunting bores? Applause. *** these two lines are weaker than before. Far better was:

…………………………………Is this what
you want, to join the chorus of grunting
bores? Of this, you would be king?

I am assuming you received a suggestion for the one-word sentence “Applause” from someone. Bad idea.


It is not only an affectation, but severely affects the rhythm and the grace of the language, which up to these two lines have been very good. You must be able to see that, with your skills.

Or, perhaps you’re trying a bit too hard to be different, to be the rebel, and thus are losing the handle from time to time, and letting that desire speak, rather than the words themselves?

“Applause” was my idea - the break between the strophes seems to work well, both strophes are in a state of flux, I want to put in three more rhymes I think, all buried. Both strophes have 40 syllables if I counted right. I am toying with the idea of making it a sonnet as this is a Nude Desending a Staircase .
"but severely affects the rhythm and the grace" -here I do not think I did that enough in the second strophe, I wanted a box of animals straining to get out. My argument - too smooth. "Applause" is a disrupter and keeps the syllable count.

Your Papers, as paper it shall be shred. <---excellent, even the capital ‘P’
-You are-
beyond those things.

Come, the one tab indents worked well in these strophes that begin with the word “Come” – put them back

Come,
.........learn to work iron, and with this metal make

learn to work iron, and with this metal make
blades, to pierce to the root and all. <----- much weaker than the line before it

Come, Nice strophe. I like it a lot (especially if stuctured as it was in the earlier draft). And from here on, until the signing, I think it’s very well done.
sing as swung steel does becoming dulled
with clash, amid wreckage of wood and lead.

Come,
the steppes are large, and empty,
save for the grass and stars that laugh.

Come,
under the black flag with me,

Come,
let us leave the streets in grease. It should end here!!

I am This is awful, IMO. Very pretentious, and ruinous to the poem as a whole. You are not letting the poem and the words do the talking themselves, but forcing them on the eyes. This just has to go. I think it sends a good poem down the drain.
your brother,
Тэмүүжин

I agree with the tab indents, just not sure how to work them.
"to pierce to the root and all. " borrowed line, context changed, a little joke of mine. Goes well with the others, "Тэмүүжин"

As said, still in a state of flux, it maybe abandoned. Right now I see it as a Frontpiece, not a stand-alone.
All this serious talk - time for a joke.
Why did the straight guy cross the road?
'cause someone told him to,
Why did the hippie cross the road?
'cause someone told him NOT to
Why did the Punk Rocker cross the road?
'cause he was stapled to the chicken

Congrats on spelling pompuss right, OK back to serious.

The first thing I would have noticed is the double use of "sing", followed by steps, steppe, weaker but still there lawn, grass. Why did no one catch it?

Tara, all your points are well taken, this is how I see it
strophe 1 -this is how I see it, notice the reversals, the smallness
(the feigned retreat)
stophe 2 - this is what I think of it - pretty ugly, petty, I really don't care about your fucked up life, and to shown as a proof a prize by your like minded peers that this is art, no. It's a box of animals. Little more than high school popularity (another box of animals).
this is the audience test - a hurdle - the battle
"Applause" can be taken two ways here, obvious is sarcasm refering to what is before, or congrats you are coming over to see a different perspective.
Your Papers - (the border crossing also)
Everything is supposed to open up after that, and what I am offering "the grass and the stars that laugh" - we all die, and the world goes on, too bad.
"the black flag" - think for yourself

All that, this is supposed to be a mimicry of his military tactics, full of what you think you see, because you assume. I don't think there is anybody here that thinks things out as well as you, I take your critcism very seriously, beleive me it will roll around, and I may follow your advice for the rewrite. But, I am very careful also, and I know perseption is all part of the game.