Can you get a good poem out of a bad experience...

[vrosej10]

without being a whining bitch? I just had most unpleasant afternoon with an unavoidable relative who thinks I am dog dirt and doesn't mind tell me so. Have anyone of you managed to get a poem out of something like this without coming off like a fool? This is my attempt.

This is Not Cricket! How About Tennis Anyone?
She ignored me when she got out of the car
Normally I wouldn’t be bothered but it had been a long day
That she had kept me waiting all morning and afternoon
And soon the snide tide of bitching began
And the situation, being what it is, I had to bite my tongue
But I’d have preferred to engage my wit and return her serve
Turning on her, at a blinding pace, the one thing I have over her
And it wouldn’t have been love all round, but I’d have won...
I wouldn’t have felt better though...

 

[twelveoone]

without being a whining bitch? I just had most unpleasant afternoon with an unavoidable relative who thinks I am dog dirt and doesn't mind tell me so. Have anyone of you managed to get a poem out of something like this without coming off like a fool? This is my attempt.

This is Not Cricket! How About Tennis Anyone?
She ignored me when she got out of the car
Normally I wouldn’t be bothered but it had been a long day
That she had kept me waiting all morning and afternoon
And soon the snide tide of bitching began
And the situation, being what it is, I had to bite my tongue
But I’d have preferred to engage my wit and return her serve
Turning on her, at a blinding pace, the one thing I have over her
And it wouldn’t have been love all round, but I’d have won...
I wouldn’t have felt better though...

sure all my poems are about bad experiences, just change the characters, the settings, put a different spin on it (Bosonism) and bingo

So, Scalia sez in Sandoval, there is no link between
601 & 602; Thomas sez too-too
Such a influent man of grate knowledge,
(at least as far as Thomas is concerned)
Whereas, I read what he wrote
The Vote was 5 to 4, the vote was 5 to 4
With Stevens and Souter in dissent (see dissent)
Recently sez "group sex relieves social tension"
Group, numbering between 5 and Coliseum filled
Clarence, squeezing bulb, goes woo-woo

I just changed the two characters into Supreme Court justices
and gave it a happy ending, I did retain the social tension part
as far as notcoming off like a fool, why worry?

Do you think Mel Gibson cares?
Actually he does - he hired me to be a scriptwriter for his next movie, which is about a Cricket Match, that does turn a bit ugly.
Wish me luck!

 

[ishtat]

without being a whining bitch? I just had most unpleasant afternoon with an unavoidable relative who thinks I am dog dirt and doesn't mind tell me so. Have anyone of you managed to get a poem out of something like this without coming off like a fool? This is my attempt.

So long as it's the poem that's whining rather than you it's ok.

There's a vast collection of whiny poems but the people that write them usually call them prayers.

 

[twelveoone]

without being a whining bitch? I just had most unpleasant afternoon with an unavoidable relative who thinks I am dog dirt and doesn't mind tell me so. Have anyone of you managed to get a poem out of something like this without coming off like a fool? This is my attempt.

So long as it's the poem that's whining rather than you it's ok.

There's a vast collection of whiny poems but the people that write them usually call them prayers.

Hey!, I like that guy,

 

[vrosej10]

without being a whining bitch? I just had most unpleasant afternoon with an unavoidable relative who thinks I am dog dirt and doesn't mind tell me so. Have anyone of you managed to get a poem out of something like this without coming off like a fool? This is my attempt.

So long as it's the poem that's whining rather than you it's ok.

There's a vast collection of whiny poems but the people that write them usually call them prayers.

Good point! Touche.

 

[bronzeage]

Bad experiences make better poetry. Inner turmoil is the most powerful muse. When things are good, it's too easy to lie back and watch clouds, never giving a thought to the source of all this happiness.

Nothing works better than, "What the hell happened?"

 

[twelveoone]

Bad experiences make better poetry. Inner turmoil is the most powerful muse. When things are good, it's too easy to lie back and watch clouds, never giving a thought to the source of all this happiness.

Nothing works better than, "What the hell happened?"

yeah, you gotta love those what the fuck moments...or as Proust would say..I remember...719 pages later...I didn't like it much

 

[butters]

without being a whining bitch? I just had most unpleasant afternoon with an unavoidable relative who thinks I am dog dirt and doesn't mind tell me so. Have anyone of you managed to get a poem out of something like this without coming off like a fool? This is my attempt.

This is Not Cricket! How About Tennis Anyone?
She ignored me when she got out of the car
Normally I wouldn’t be bothered but it had been a long day
That she had kept me waiting all morning and afternoon
And soon the snide tide of bitching began
And the situation, being what it is, I had to bite my tongue
But I’d have preferred to engage my wit and return her serve
Turning on her, at a blinding pace, the one thing I have over her
And it wouldn’t have been love all round, but I’d have won...
I wouldn’t have felt better though...

sorry about your crappy day and ugly afternoon, vrose
take comfort in the fact she didn't make you let loose as she'd know she'd got under your skin. poetry can be a great release valve! besides, as your write so clearly points out, what pleasure's to be gained in such a one-sided match had you run with the bait...

no, you don't come across as whiny - frustrated and annoyed, and maybe the poem's a little self-indulgent but if it worked to act as that safety valve, what the hell i've certainly been guilty of self-indulgent writes. the one below was published, and came about after a massive row in the night (totally engineered by my now ex) after which he went straight to sleep and i got up and wrote it on a scrap of paper, standing up, with a pencil... absolutely fuming and... well, i didn't murder him but the poem speaks for itself

3.10 a.m


she kneels astride
him slightly stiff and cooling slowly
vitality's soft aftertaste still lingering on his skin
and eyes that shine
wet with unshed tears and
staring staring
straight at her

such passivity such calm
no spoken word to break the harm of sin
and so begin

raising arms above her head
a sacrificial hymn
then lowering quite slowly first
uncertain of resistance to be met
a dimple-ing
a pressing down and in
bone to bone and
skin to
skin

no gush of blood to spoil the rush
for patience has its own rewards
withdraw slowly, slowly
slick and slicker
pacing pressure
still no flicker on those lips
and eyes that shine
wet with unshed tears and
staring staring

the rocking back and rocking forth
the up and down the ins and outs
both hands around the grip and
glisten-ing
with effort she
lays him bare
skin to bone and bone to
skin

intercostal muscles sever
inserts the tip and pushes harder
licks her lips
blue bloom of fingertips
gristle parts - gives way to pressure
she sighs almost content in sweating pleasure
extracts the prize
accepts the gift
and taking Adam's bloody rib
she holds it up to
eyes that shine
wet with unshed tears and
staring

 

[Palba_Noruda]

Can you get a good poem out of a bad experience...

You can get a poem out of anything. Judging poems to be either good or bad is terribly political and seems counterproductive to the poet.

3.10 a.m

Lovely poem

 

[butters]

You can get a poem out of anything. Judging poems to be either good or bad is terribly political and seems counterproductive to the poet.



Lovely poem

thanks, pablo as lovely as murdering someone can be when i've tried to write it.

 

[serpentwrap]

As others have said, complacency never encouraged creative flushes. Bad experiences would turn traumatic and unbearable if they didn't find an analytical outlet. Poems or other creative forms of expression are our ways to get over bad experiences. Those who don't have such recourse or do not use them either turn bitter or hateful. There might be exceptions, but they would be exceptions that prove the rule..


In the middle of the night
When clichés took the turn for the worse
Pillow talk verged towards grave
Of all the loved ones and those met
Poets taking arms and soldiers reciting verse

Dawn brought the teardrops
Of sun filtering through tatters on the drape
An ache in the heart but twinkling crow’s feet
Trying lambada with shadows you don’t see
Or tango with the ghosts upon your nape

Bright sunshine, “cry havoc and let slip
The dogs of war”, as good ole Billy said then
Battles raging within the auricle and the ventricle
Shroud in the Armani garb of propriety
“Serves you right”, you yell to all the dirty ole men

The dirt, the grime and the filth
Taint the windows of the soul twisted free
Metronymic fists of morals-n-memories
Draw constant blood-n-piss outta the viscera
Salved by fame or claim to the same, as the case may be.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

without being a whining bitch? I just had most unpleasant afternoon with an unavoidable relative who thinks I am dog dirt and doesn't mind tell me so. Have anyone of you managed to get a poem out of something like this without coming off like a fool? This is my attempt.

This is Not Cricket! How About Tennis Anyone?
She ignored me when she got out of the car
Normally I wouldn’t be bothered but it had been a long day
That she had kept me waiting all morning and afternoon
And soon the snide tide of bitching began
And the situation, being what it is, I had to bite my tongue
But I’d have preferred to engage my wit and return her serve
Turning on her, at a blinding pace, the one thing I have over her
And it wouldn’t have been love all round, but I’d have won...
I wouldn’t have felt better though...

You did win by not succumbing to her needling I doubt whether I would have been so restrained I am pretty good at wars of words when I'm sure of my ammunition. I like your poem though and yes it is a bit indulgent but the wit works

sorry about your crappy day and ugly afternoon, vrose
take comfort in the fact she didn't make you let loose as she'd know she'd got under your skin. poetry can be a great release valve! besides, as your write so clearly points out, what pleasure's to be gained in such a one-sided match had you run with the bait...

no, you don't come across as whiny - frustrated and annoyed, and maybe the poem's a little self-indulgent but if it worked to act as that safety valve, what the hell i've certainly been guilty of self-indulgent writes. the one below was published, and came about after a massive row in the night (totally engineered by my now ex) after which he went straight to sleep and i got up and wrote it on a scrap of paper, standing up, with a pencil... absolutely fuming and... well, i didn't murder him but the poem speaks for itself

3.10 a.m


she kneels astride
him slightly stiff and cooling slowly
vitality's soft aftertaste still lingering on his skin
and eyes that shine
wet with unshed tears and
staring staring
straight at her

such passivity such calm
no spoken word to break the harm of sin
and so begin

raising arms above her head
a sacrificial hymn
then lowering quite slowly first
uncertain of resistance to be met
a dimple-ing
a pressing down and in
bone to bone and
skin to
skin

no gush of blood to spoil the rush
for patience has its own rewards
withdraw slowly, slowly
slick and slicker
pacing pressure
still no flicker on those lips
and eyes that shine
wet with unshed tears and
staring staring

the rocking back and rocking forth
the up and down the ins and outs
both hands around the grip and
glisten-ing
with effort she
lays him bare
skin to bone and bone to
skin

intercostal muscles sever
inserts the tip and pushes harder
licks her lips
blue bloom of fingertips
gristle parts - gives way to pressure
she sighs almost content in sweating pleasure
extracts the prize
accepts the gift
and taking Adam's bloody rib
she holds it up to
eyes that shine
wet with unshed tears and
staring

I have toyed many times with the perfect murder, it's still on my to do list ..... oh the poem of course honestly

 

[HAMFAN]

You can get a poem out of anything. Judging poems to be either good or bad is terribly political and seems counterproductive to the poet.

Now there's a nub. Altho I'm an anti-troll (when I vote its only to give 5's; well OK I tried to gradate a 4 with fridayam and felt really bad when I realised it should have been a 5 given the total context of the site and the poem itself), nonetheless I do not think judging poems as good or bad is terribly political. Just necessary.
In the somewhat words of a great poet-hero of mine, Thomas Hardy; "to hope for the best requires a good look at the worst". Improvement requires a sometimes brutal looking at the worst (watching someone riding a bike badly and articulating why is as instructive as watching the expert and articulating why).
Its the same with life in general; vrosej articulated her response to someone living their life badly (making others feel like shit) - and worked her way thru to the idea that the scalpel mind, the return of serve will not make her feel better. In so doing she becomes more aware of what is better
(now me, I would been analysing the rhetoric of my bad relative on the fly quite dispassionately ... but then as I've discovered rather late I'm probably an aspie; trying to figure out people and in defiance of social convention articulating it, is what I remember having done).
The point is, we should always to be aware of our judgments, pulling and tugging at them, turning them over like rocks to find the crawly things that lie beneath. The sword of judgment has no hilt; it cuts both ways ... and is always unavoidable.
It's not in some other realm ("the political"); it's personal.
Life.

 

[vrosej10]

You did win by not succumbing to her needling I doubt whether I would have been so restrained I am pretty good at wars of words when I'm sure of my ammunition. I like your poem though and yes it is a bit indulgent but the wit works



I have toyed many times with the perfect murder, it's still on my to do list ..... oh the poem of course honestly

Fair call. It was a bit indulgent but I did say it was an attempt.I had been sick all day before I saw her and I was feeling pretty whiney when I wrote this, so there was restraint involved.

The uber bitch in question is my daughter in law. I didn't rise to her bait because I really love my husband and want the best for him and I will put up with this bitch till me eyes bleed for him. She is actually older than me and a rollicking snob and racist and she can't stand me because I represent everything she loathes. On my side, I can't stand snobs or racists, so there you go and I just realised she's threatened by my academic success so our next meeting should be much more interesting.

 

[vrosej10]

You can get a poem out of anything. Judging poems to be either good or bad is terribly political and seems counterproductive to the poet.

Now there's a nub. Altho I'm an anti-troll (when I vote its only to give 5's; well OK I tried to gradate a 4 with fridayam and felt really bad when I realised it should have been a 5 given the total context of the site and the poem itself), nonetheless I do not think judging poems as good or bad is terribly political. Just necessary.
In the somewhat words of a great poet-hero of mine, Thomas Hardy; "to hope for the best requires a good look at the worst". Improvement requires a sometimes brutal looking at the worst (watching someone riding a bike badly and articulating why is as instructive as watching the expert and articulating why).
Its the same with life in general; vrosej articulated her response to someone living their life badly (making others feel like shit) - and worked her way thru to the idea that the scalpel mind, the return of serve will not make her feel better. In so doing she becomes more aware of what is better
(now me, I would been analysing the rhetoric of my bad relative on the fly quite dispassionately ... but then as I've discovered rather late I'm probably an aspie; trying to figure out people and in defiance of social convention articulating it, is what I remember having done).
The point is, we should always to be aware of our judgments, pulling and tugging at them, turning them over like rocks to find the crawly things that lie beneath. The sword of judgment has no hilt; it cuts both ways ... and is always unavoidable.
It's not in some other realm ("the political"); it's personal.
Life.

This is a very Aussie post and opinion. I do believe more poems will come out of this encounter as some of this shit she said was unbelievable and worthy of further exploration, but later when I have cooled down. I did actually help writing this one as I got some clarity through my rage. And I am WAY aspie too.

 

[twelveoone]

This is a very Aussie post and opinion. I do believe more poems will come out of this encounter as some of this shit she said was unbelievable and worthy of further exploration, but later when I have cooled down. I did actually help writing this one as I got some clarity through my rage. And I am WAY aspie too.

just remember if it was "shit" stick it her voice - just a little trick, a clarification for the reader, and a distancing from you the writer from aforementioned "shit"

 

[Palba_Noruda]

You can get a poem out of anything. Judging poems to be either good or bad is terribly political and seems counterproductive to the poet.

Now there's a nub. Altho I'm an anti-troll (when I vote its only to give 5's; well OK I tried to gradate a 4 with fridayam and felt really bad when I realised it should have been a 5 given the total context of the site and the poem itself), nonetheless I do not think judging poems as good or bad is terribly political. Just necessary.
In the somewhat words of a great poet-hero of mine, Thomas Hardy; "to hope for the best requires a good look at the worst". Improvement requires a sometimes brutal looking at the worst (watching someone riding a bike badly and articulating why is as instructive as watching the expert and articulating why).
Its the same with life in general; vrosej articulated her response to someone living their life badly (making others feel like shit) - and worked her way thru to the idea that the scalpel mind, the return of serve will not make her feel better. In so doing she becomes more aware of what is better
(now me, I would been analysing the rhetoric of my bad relative on the fly quite dispassionately ... but then as I've discovered rather late I'm probably an aspie; trying to figure out people and in defiance of social convention articulating it, is what I remember having done).
The point is, we should always to be aware of our judgments, pulling and tugging at them, turning them over like rocks to find the crawly things that lie beneath. The sword of judgment has no hilt; it cuts both ways ...

and is always unavoidable.


It's not in some other realm ("the political"); it's personal.
Life.

I think human beings are endowed with some capacity for discernment, but to say that judgement is always unavoidable is overly simple.

Judgement is partially human nature and partially learned. With a bit of work and a supportive community, one can learn to soften the learned part. And one can learn to observe the human nature part and work with it, perhaps even channel it, into something else.

Some communities are interested in softening the judgement apparatus while other communities are interested in training and strengthening the judgement apparatus.

I'm guessing that you and I are involved with different communities.

In other words, I acknowledge that judgments of good and bad and ideas of improvement have their place and may be ultimately inescapable, but I want to point out that they are partially cultural narratives, myths that we attach ourselves to by choice.

I think it's okay to try to let that paradox exist. Is that acceptable to the board?

The bicycle example is an odd one.

I take the perspective of the person riding the bike. You take the perspective of the person observing. Why?

One can learn to ride quite well with practice, by reading some articles, sharing techniques with friends, joining a club. I feel like I ride quite well and I've never had a teacher (beyond my brother when I first learned) or any criticism from an outsider.

I don't often judge the riding of others.

I will admit that I am terribly interested in improving my writing and improving my self in general. I suppose I have found, though, that oftentimes I am wrong on how to achieve those goals. I have found that if I let go of the goal and give myself over to something else, that is when the changes that want to be made can be made.

I think it partially comes down to thinking with the logical part of the mind versus thinking with something deeper, the unconscious I suppose. To me, the kind of good/bad judgements and goals of improvement seem too superficial to really make a difference. But I'm kind of neurotic, so it is probably different for everybody.

I continue to try to articulate my thoughts on these topics for two reasons. For one, it is important for me to write out my thoughts and feelings on this topic. For another, I keep thinking someone will acknowledge my position, which you have done in a way, so thanks. I hope that doesn't make me a troll.

 

[Palba_Noruda]

The uber bitch in question is my daughter in law. I didn't rise to her bait because I really love my husband and want the best for him and I will put up with this bitch till me eyes bleed for him. She is actually older than me and a rollicking snob and racist and she can't stand me because I represent everything she loathes. On my side, I can't stand snobs or racists, so there you go and I just realised she's threatened by my academic success so our next meeting should be much more interesting.

BTW, all other commenting aside, this sounds like a unique set of relationships. Because I'm nosy, I sure would love to hear more about it...

 

[vrosej10]

BTW, all other commenting aside, this sounds like a unique set of relationships. Because I'm nosy, I sure would love to hear more about it...

I am thirty one years younger than my husband and his second wife. I met him five years after he separate from the first wife (any earlier would have been illegal, I was 17 when I met him and he was 49). The son and I got on ok till I got pregnant when he was twenty five and it became clear that I was not his father's mid life crisis. I married my husband the same year he married his wife. The bitch decided to have the wedding on a tropical island resort so none of the poor relatives (including us) could afford to go. She looks down her nose at me, being from a lower class family myself (Australia has a class system no matter what you hear). The one relative, his mother, who could attend, was summarily ostracized, for a list of most probably bogus complaints. The final straw for me was when she called me a bad mother. This is hilarious to me because her kids (she has two adult children and a little boy with the stepson) aren't bright and got in heaps of shit at school. My son has NEVER gotten in trouble at school, even in a minor way, has been the academic achiever every year he's been in school and he has been voted the vice captain for next year. Everyone comments on how well we care for our son. She also made it clear that she thinks I am an idiot that needs to be talked down to. They didn't speak to us for seven years nearly. That is until this year I sent a Xmas card talking about how well our son is doing and that I am having a high level of academic success at uni (4.33 grade average and the university is encouraging me to stay for an honours year). Suddenly because she thinks of us as successful now, she wants to have something to do with us. I only had a ninth grade education last time I dealt with her and now I don't and it has given me a lot of perspective on her lets just say...

 

[EroticOrogeny]

I am thirty one years younger than my husband and his second wife. I met him five years after he separate from the first wife (any earlier would have been illegal, I was 17 when I met him and he was 49). The son and I got on ok till I got pregnant when he was twenty five and it became clear that I was not his father's mid life crisis. I married my husband the same year he married his wife. The bitch decided to have the wedding on a tropical island resort so none of the poor relatives (including us) could afford to go. She looks down her nose at me, being from a lower class family myself (Australia has a class system no matter what you hear). The one relative, his mother, who could attend, was summarily ostracized, for a list of most probably bogus complaints. The final straw for me was when she called me a bad mother. This is hilarious to me because her kids (she has two adult children and a little boy with the stepson) aren't bright and got in heaps of shit at school. My son has NEVER gotten in trouble at school, even in a minor way, has been the academic achiever every year he's been in school and he has been voted the vice captain for next year. Everyone comments on how well we care for our son. She also made it clear that she thinks I am an idiot that needs to be talked down to. They didn't speak to us for seven years nearly. That is until this year I sent a Xmas card talking about how well our son is doing and that I am having a high level of academic success at uni (4.33 grade average and the university is encouraging me to stay for an honours year). Suddenly because she thinks of us as successful now, she wants to have something to do with us. I only had a ninth grade education last time I dealt with her and now I don't and it has given me a lot of perspective on her lets just say...

Complicated and confusing, at least for me.
Hope you're not anywhere near those floods!

 

[vrosej10]

Complicated and confusing, at least for me.
Hope you're not anywhere near those floods!

Way too complicated for me too; it shtis me. I am not one of those people who enjoys drama and whenever they're round, that's all you get.

No, I am about 1000km away for the floods but my sister who lives in Brisvegas (local term for brisbane) is suffering from the tail end of the wet.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

Way too complicated for me too; it shtis me. I am not one of those people who enjoys drama and whenever they're round, that's all you get.

No, I am about 1000km away for the floods but my sister who lives in Brisvegas (local term for brisbane) is suffering from the tail end of the wet.

Brisvegas - after Las Vegas I presume - lots of casinos ?

 

[twelveoone]

Brisvegas - after Las Vegas I presume - lots of casinos ?

Briss vegas
vot a thought

 

[vrosej10]

Brisvegas - after Las Vegas I presume - lots of casinos ?

Briss vegas
vot a thought

I think they have one casino, no it is more about the sleazy nightlife. Brisbane had a really dodgy kind of Deep South-like history. If you want to know the straight dope on Brisvegas, read John Birmingham's (he's an aussie Hunter S Thompson) He Died with a Felafel in His Hand. . Twelveoone, you would love this book; its hilarious in a way you will much enjoy. Dodge the movie; it sucks.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/He_Died_with_a_Felafel_in_His_Hand

This book will tell you everything you need to know about what is it REALLY like to live in Aussie and you'll laugh hard. This is the book I wish I'd written.

 

[twelveoone]

I think they have one casino, no it is more about the sleazy nightlife. Brisbane had a really dodgy kind of Deep South-like history. If you want to know the straight dope on Brisvegas, read John Birmingham's (he's an aussie Hunter S Thompson) He Died with a Felafel in His Hand. . Twelveoone, you would love this book; its hilarious in a way you will much enjoy. Dodge the movie; it sucks.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/He_Died_with_a_Felafel_in_His_Hand

This book will tell you everything you need to know about what is it REALLY like to live in Aussie and you'll laugh hard. This is the book I wish I'd written.

While the book is not written in a linear fashion Wikipedia
can't I read the graphic novel instead?