New Poems To Talk About

[Unmasked Poet]

It feels odd to walk through the new poems list. This was once an old haunting of mine so many new names. Well at least the poetry hasn’t changed much. Here is what I found that piqued my interest or ire. For me, just these rose above the mundane of May 29th 2002 add your own and say something about these or someone’s.

Who's that girl?
by smithpeter ©

she does that prancin', that dancin'
with feathers and sinful stems
so muscled
so followed
every dripping step

I have seen this image, perhaps it is one of an expatriate American on French shores. But this is smithpeter so it may very well be the hula girl dancing in the back window of a 73 Dodge. What’s good here is his subtle exploration into rhythm. Equally interesting is the absence of the twilight zone view he normally gives us. While many of us have come to appreciate his disjointed musings it is good to read something from him that moves in a straight line. Follow the link and read the rest of “Who’s that girl? My hope is that he is alluding to Ms. Baker and not that horrid Madonna movie.


The Resolution Of Romance Act. 3
by SA Storm ©

Love whispers with a knife,

The Resolution Of Romance. Act. 4
by SA Storm ©

We are found.

After wrong turns and riding on rims,
peeling truth like the skin of an apple.


The Resolution Of Romance. Act. 5
by SA Storm ©

"Feuilles mortes"

You walk through Debussy
distorting impressionist waves
with the swing of your arms.

Resolution as one scene
by SA Storm ©

I would suggest reading SA Storm’s trilogy ”The Resolution of Romance” in order. Begin with Act 3 then proceed along the list. Then read the combined piece. I’m not sure what he’s after. Certainly he documents various stages of the emotional wounds that occur when love dies. It is haunting and melancholy. The key here is the space inside the poems. The sparseness is well used around his imagery. He say’s just enough and allows us to finish the scene.

Punk 5.7.5
by XicotencatlSmith ©

I've seen you around
Hair a metallic purple
Not found in nature

Punk 5.7.5 is a narration we have all seen it and read it before. What makes it noteworthy? Xicotencat pronounced "Chicotencat". Has a gift to stumble upon catchy lines and thoughts.

Now fast furious
Fucking like punk rockers should
Done in two minutes

The above being my favorite example of this poem, By the end he manages to capture some of the energy and tenderness of pierced nipples and purple hair. Even if he has to find it in reflection.

one eros of art
by dark stranger ©

you sit there sometimes
like a painting waiting
to be brushed again

The opening stanza perked up my ears. Dark Stranger tends to lean on hip lines too much for my taste.
But in this poem he slows down his need to be profound and lets us inside for change. He almost manages to create an erotic moment or two. But sometimes in the same poems he pushes too hard. Still I like it and think it is good.

U.P.

 

[WickedEve]

The only one that I've read on this list is smithpeter's Who's that girl. He sent this poem and another one to me to read, and I loved them both. Of course, I love almost everything he writes.
I'm glad you suggested SA's poems. I look forward to reading those and the other poems you listed.

Good to have you back even if it's only a visit.

 

[Sweetwood]

This is a piece by dark stranger

The second stanza is very precise on the mark: so by the way it made me groan

she is a cigar store dancer
her perfume is havana heaven
and hell o on tan
tight rolled, firm, fixed fine
works out 3 days a week
goes to the bank sometimes
the other 4 and discusses
the genre of gothic styles
and art of being legal and tender

Read the rest of it and enjoy

http://www.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=49534

 

[smithpeter]

Thank you, U. P. for your kind remarks. It's interesting to read your perceptions on the nature of the poet and where they are coming from.
sp
T.Z.

 

[Unmasked Poet]

Thankyou SP

Hah, I make this stuff up, it is more intoxication than insight.
So smithpeter Who's that girl?

U.P.

 

[Unmasked Poet]

Too much time on my hands

I read too much poetry. The problem with reading a lot is that you get to see the same thing a thousand times. If you’re lucky you get to see it written well a few times in that thousand. I guess it’s like watching some sport with a fan that knows baseball or better still ballet. That jumps looks mighty fine to me but as I watch the face of the aficionados I can see they are all frowning. They’ve seen that jump executed well and poorly and they know the difference. Fans like that expect to see it done correctly. When that doesn’t happen they feel disappointed. If you read a lot of poetry (and I don’t mean on the net) This will happen to you also.

I looked through the list today wearing the frown of the fan who has seen to much. Three poems did catch my eye.


Sub Memory
by JUDO ©

Then why are they marked and covered with bruises?
A quick answer stalls, but pregnant I'm not.
Their judgement aside, I'm the one who muses...
"Which Domme that I know ties a three-sided knot?"

Judo’s almost pantoum is fun. I can feel the enjoyment and delight as she fashioned each line. What makes it work is that most of the lines are clever and witty. So much so that the few that are not just roll by. Poetry should give us a chuckle as much as it does a tear. The fact that the form is mussed at the end is irrelevant. A well-written form poem is a bit like math, at the lower levels it is simply computation. You can execute the formula and get the right answer. But to make that formula art well you have do a bit more. A form can still be well executed and still be a bad poem. This is a good poem so all sins are forgivable. I smiled at the end. Which is what the writer wanted. But I wish Judo had stuck with the form a couple more lines and this bit of math might have been art.

At Sugar Daddy's Expense
by WickedEve ©

She leaves the store, with a stolen secret
clinging to her thrill spot.

This is a pleasant trip. I am not fond of the excessive use of “She” but what the heck! If poetry was like baseball this would be a successful bunt. You would have to run fast but you would get on base.
Eve structures her poem well enough so that we can enjoy little moments of her characters afternoon. I thought the Chinese food thing a bit clumsy but oh well. Perhaps she could have written this about Perky and we could have had some “Duck Sauce.” Sorry, I’ll get back to the poem now. Like I said it was pleasant, but much like the food mentioned I know I will be hungry for more in just a few minutes. WickedEve, feed me! And I mean that in the poetic sense.


the main light...
by Senna Jawa ©

the main light switch sticks out the wall
at the entrance
another one next to the sink
a string switch hangs down from the ceiling
in the adjacent washer & dryer closet
and two light switches serve the oven
in this dark kitchen


You can click on the link if you want but the entire poem is shown. Readers, you are suppose to find something here. Senna Jawa has carved out a space and filled it with space. He shows you the walls, a bit of furniture, a fixture or two. But what he’s talking about isn’t on the wall or the floor. The hunt is on! I know of Senna Jawa’s fondness for things Asian, but this puts me in mind of a more Germanic sensibility in poetry. Achtung baby!

Depending on your taste you could find something that caught your eye on the list of poems from May 30th 2002. If you do tell us about them yah there’s plenty of space below.

 

[WickedEve]

Re: Too much time on my hands

At Sugar Daddy's Expense
by WickedEve ©

She leaves the store, with a stolen secret
clinging to her thrill spot.

This is a pleasant trip. I am not fond of the excessive use of “She” but what the heck! If poetry was like baseball this would be a successful bunt. You would have to run fast but you would get on base.
Eve structures her poem well enough so that we can enjoy little moments of her characters afternoon. I thought the Chinese food thing a bit clumsy but oh well. Perhaps she could have written this about Perky and we could have had some “Duck Sauce.” Sorry, I’ll get back to the poem now. Like I said it was pleasant, but much like the food mentioned I know I will be hungry for more in just a few minutes. WickedEve, feed me! And I mean that in the poetic sense.

OH, UP! Where are the fangs? The claws? I though you'd tear into that poem like a rabid ferret!
I started to toss out the Chinese food thing. I thought it seemed stupid. I don't know why I left it in. Maybe I was hungry.
I'll make an effort tonight to submit something better. Lately, I've been going through poems I've written this year and submitting some of them. And some are better than others. What I like about this poem is how naughty "she" is. lol

 

[Unmasked Poet]

Perhaps next time

Eve, I know you have a penchant for the claws, but to question my technique? Besides this is another new poem thread. You must imagine all the poems from the list that I didn't mention. Had you seen me in my rage of ranting there would have been enough ripped poetry, blood and poet's heart to satisfy even you.

Here is a little something to tide you over.

1. Sometimes you use a whip! (This makes them appreciate the feather.)

2. Sometimes you use a feather! (This makes them appreciate the whip!)

3. Sometimes you just keep what you have in your hand, behind your back and make them wait!

These are excerpts from my memoirs "Tales from the Marquis De U.P." Poetry is pain, is pleasure, is life, is blood, is sex.

U.P.

 

[WickedEve]

Re: Perhaps next time

Had you seen me in my rage of ranting there would have been enough ripped poetry, blood and poet's heart to satisfy even you.

I wait patiently and with anticipation for that day. But if and when you tear into one of my creations, please do it in your special way that leaves me trembling with delight... and other things.

(Yes, this is how I get a cheap thrill.)

 

[JUDO]

Re: Too much time on my hands

Sub Memory
by JUDO ©

Then why are they marked and covered with bruises?
A quick answer stalls, but pregnant I'm not.
Their judgement aside, I'm the one who muses...
"Which Domme that I know ties a three-sided knot?"

Judo’s almost pantoum is fun. I can feel the enjoyment and delight as she fashioned each line. What makes it work is that most of the lines are clever and witty. So much so that the few that are not just roll by. Poetry should give us a chuckle as much as it does as tear. The fact that the form is mussed at the end is irrelevant. A well-written form poem is a bit like math, at the lower levels it is simply computation. You can execute the formula and get the right answer. But to make that formula art well you have do a bit more. A form can still be well executed and still be a bad poem. This is a good poem so all sins are forgivable. I smiled at the end. Which is what the writer wanted. But I wish Judo had stuck with the form a couple more lines and this bit of math might have been art.

Thanks for not nailing me for the not-pantoum.

To make up for my dismal failure, I have another pantoum in the 'planning stages' (Yes, definitely a must-be-planned poetic form) called "My Dog Is Cool." Following SA's suggestion for more of a simple almost child-like message (my words, not his) this poem should work much better.

I'm hoping to change the message of the lines at the end, using their inversion to my advantage for a semi-punchline.

I love your message to all about form and playing with it. Definitely my mindset once a form is understood.

And yes, I did what I could with double-entendre to keep the reader guessing as to where this darn thing was going. Glad you appreciated the effort.

Jokingly Yours.
- Judo

 

[Unmasked Poet]

Todays Opinion

05/31/02

16 poems today, I found 2 that I thought above net average. What do you know? They both have something in common. Rhythm!.

Stripping Bark
by WickedEve©

Limbs wrap around the silver tree
in the glitter, neon forest.
Naked trunk undulates;
fingers branch out over supple skin.
Her inhibition leaves.

She can't get to the root of her problem
when twenties are tucked inside,
with requests to bark.
Now dignity leaves.

There is a great deal of undercurrent in this poem. The title is provocative and implies we will discover something. The tree metaphor used throughout the poem works for me. In fact I like it. What I like is that the poet took the time to work through the metaphor choosing words to maintain the theme. The entire real meaning and thought of this poem takes place in the last stanza. The first stanza introduces the metaphor and allows us to become acclimated.. There is some clever word play. “Trunk” “branch” “leaves” and abstraction “silver tree” and some poetic fancy “Neon forest”. It is all quite nice. The second stanza manages more power. Here we see the dancer questioning herself, her way of making money. It works because WickedEve has not called for a damnation of her character, she lets us inside the dancer’s mind because those are the only judgments that truly matter.
Despite all this the poem still needs to shake its groove thang in my opinion. It is about rhythm, this poem should be read with each word flowing into the next smooth and easy. Some of her word choices are a bit harsh sounding, note the entire first line of the second stanza. These words throw off my groove, and believe me you don’t want to interfere with my groove! Thankfully she gives it back to me and I ride the rest of the words subtle and content. A good character study and a good poem.

I’m lucky, right after the somber contemplations of WickedEve. I found a hard upbeat swinging rhythm to enjoy courtesy of Angeline.


What Basie Knew
by Angeline ©

Four/four and you get there baby
Find the space between the notes
The sweet center that moves the music
Swinging harder than the sounds
This is body song, singing elemental
bioprogrammed to
Rock you from inside out
To dance your muscles
To move your limbs
To jump your blues away

Sometimes the center holds the circle in place

Basie knew: watch him in the zone
Swaying back nonchalantly from the keys
Cigarette dangling, head bopping
Eyes open, eyes wide, eyes fixed
On a distant siren calling
Get your tonics together now
Slide in and out of time
Stretch pointed as a starfish
Awash in sweet waves of rhythm
Carry him back to the keys
To soul smooth splanky jazz


So let’s us look at “What Basie Knew.” Angeline, has found a way to express an urgency here that captures the energy inherent in the music she’s talking about. The poem swings because the words do. She has kept the words simple, barley does she go beyond one syllable. This allows her to control the rhythm of each line. She keeps it tight for the most part just like the Jazz music she obviously enjoys. Read the poem aloud and you know this. Beyond its reference point this poem could be about life or Zen or anything. Because everything does indeed revolve around “The Sweet Center.” People, the universe, nature, pick one and you will see it’s true.
I have not read much of Angeline’s work but because of this poem I will. I don’t suppose she has a fondness for Classical. Now to the other stuff, this poem needs better punctuation to fine-tune it. She could go with small case throughout. The lines are short enough to support that. There are word choices that I would question but that’s just being picky. Okay so I’ll be picky and bring up one. The line:

“Sometimes the center holds the circle in place”

The word “sometimes” is not needed in my opinion. I have a few more nits, but you know who cares, I found two poems I enjoyed from the list. With all this groovin I better sit down before I break something. I suggest you find a poem or two from the list that makes your toes tap and tell us about it. Then tell the artist. Or just listen to me, eventually you will get tired of my voice, well maybe not. It has not happened to me yet.

U.P.

 

[Unmasked Poet]

Choose your weapon

The weird thing about good poetry is that often it has little to do with effort. Of course the more knowledgeable you are the more devices and forms you will incorporate in your writing. I have had the curse and pleasure of judging poetry, and assisting editors with selections. This does not make me an expert on writing poetry. I am simply a fan. Speaking of weird, weird is looking into the face of furious poets who feel their talent is unrecognized. I don’t know how many times I have heard. “The problem is that my poetry is too complex. That one always gives me a chuckle. Of course at the other spectrum we have. “This came straight from my heart and everyone likes it.” Both statements are usually summed up by the final validation of the artist. “I have been published!” I smile curiously at them and nod.
People who write poetry will tell you that all opinions are subjective, and they’re correct. So is the title poet.



Today two poems stood out for me.

uncle's garden
by WickedEve ©

a woman's power flows between her thighs,
and can strike down a sprout struggling up through the soil.


I choose the line above because truer words have never been spoken. It is a power of interesting scope a combination of birth and lust. I would like to read a poem addressing this issue. That kind of poem is not here though. Eve is just talking to us on this poem, like friends on the porch swing spinning tales of history and illusion. I enjoyed the fable, now I’m going to check my garden. The neighbors kids were over helping damn girls might have ruined my tomatoes.





why do they hide?
by Senna Jawa ©

why are all the poets dormant?

I laughed when I read this. I don’t know if Senna Jawa meant it to be funny. But I nodded my head at each stanza. By the end I joined in the lament. I don’t know if the poets are dormant or not. I tend to think they are developing like caterpillars moving very slowly until they decide to sprout wings. There are plenty of beautiful butterflies coming. Patience Senna Jawa, patience.


Perhaps I have overlooked something noteworthy in my haste. Should you find it, please post it and tell us all about.

U.P.

 

[WickedEve]

Re: Choose your weapon

uncle's garden
by WickedEve ©

UP, thank you for the comments on my uncle's garden. My uncle is now gone, but I do have fond and humorous memories, and what I wrote about in this poem is one of those memories.

By the way, UP, the problem is that my poetry is too complex. When you don't understand it, I don't explain it, because I don't understand it. Therefore, I've come to the conclusion that my poetry is brilliant, because it's beyond our comprehension.
Though, this particular poem is not complex. It came straight from my heart and everyone likes it.

 

[Senna Jawa]

Re: Choose your weapon

why do they hide?
by Senna Jawa ©

why are all the poets dormant?

I laughed when I read this. I don’t know if Senna Jawa meant it
to be funny.

But of course! From the beginning to the very end.

But I nodded my head at each stanza. By the end I joined in the lament. [...]

U.P.

Good Thank U for mentioning my piece. I made fun of everybody mentioned in my poem.

Best regards,

 

[Senna Jawa]

Re: Choose your weapon

uncle's garden
by WickedEve ©

a woman's power flows between her thighs,
and can strike down a sprout struggling up through the soil.

I like this poem very much and voted 5. I liked the invisible gardener. In a more flexible publishing environment it would be to the poem's advantage to give the title AFTER the poem, it's done sometimes.

I choose the line above because truer words have never been spoken. It is a power of interesting scope a combination of birth and lust. I would like to read a poem addressing this issue. That kind of poem is not here though. Eve is just talking to us on this poem, like friends on the porch swing spinning tales of history and illusion. I enjoyed the fable, now I’m going to check my garden. The neighbors kids were over helping damn girls might have ruined my tomatoes.

I was a little uneasy about the second half of the poem, starting with words   a woman's power.... It's needed there. The whole construction is great. But the execution of the second half (just the last four lines) is imperfect to me, not on the same high poetical orbit.

Best regards,

 

[Unmasked Poet]

Saving a wretch like me.

Sunday, June 02, 2002

They are given birth with sweat and caring, even ecstasy. Like appendages they bleed if abused and are wounded on the unkind word. This is the life of a poem. Inanimate and yet attempting to breathe, to live with each reader. Dying a thousand deaths with each skipped line and unread passage. Today I can taste the sweat and caring that crafted many of the poems appearing on the new list. I recognize the clever manipulations the poets attempted all of it to bring these words to life. I read every line and force myself to appreciate the effort. I say Bravo!

While In my head I hear "Amazing Grace" played on bagpipes and then sung by the queen of soul herself and I try to bury each one carefully with a loving memory. There are good days and there are bad days for a poetry lover scanning the new list of poems. You will have to decide what today is for yourself.


Lauren. Hynde writes well and has talent. I suggest you read her work, it is often good and sometimes it is just okay but it is rarely bad.

The very best of the day is from Lauren.Hynde

Comfortably Numb
by Lauren.Hynde ©

It was seven thirty.
You wouldn't be able to stay until after eight
and after eight it would have become painfully obvious.
There was order in the world,
and half an hour for us,
half an hour during which we didn't really want each other,
half an hour during which we only hurt ourselves,
comfortable as we were not to have met before.
We took half an hour arranging for another hour for us,
half an hour that after all didn't start until it had ended,
when we said our goodbyes, until next time.
And seeing you again
I didn't feel myself, nor my hunger, nor my thirst
nor any need other than you,
so I did like poets do,
erasing reality
to replace it for a better one.

I have a problem with the title, it is a famous song, that gives me a preconception about the poem. I want to walk into a poem certainly led by the title (if it has one) but I want that notion to be unique.
Lauren.Hynde clearly and tactfully describes a courteous encounter, she holds the sense of desperation each character feels well under the surface. They understand that each are a compromise and as such this is simply what it is. They part but not with a handshake but with the central voice replacing the mundane with hope.







WickedEve is going minimalist on us, she has a way with brevity I think you will enjoy.

Crazy Criminal Love
by WickedEve ©
.
I trapped you in a bottle when you tried to leave.
I told suspicious lovers you were in Peru.

Uniformed men searched freezer and flower bed.

I smiled and drank you down,
committing murder before their eyes.


Go ahead read it a second time, perhaps a third. I know you want to ask her what the poem is about. But before you do, tell her what the poem means to you. I will certainly tell you what I think if you’re interested. But I would rather not. I will hint at my thoughts. It is beyond obsession when you cannot part. When you hide what once you displayed with pride and joy. Your need has grown dark and become embarrassing even incriminating. Yet still you need to display your passion.

In going through the list these are two poets I will be watching.

Lilith1968

Displays an erotic touch in her latest two submissions. The poetry she has posted is always interesting to read.

karmadog

Is developing a fine word sensibility you can read it in his newest poem. To see what he is capable of read New Sneaker Blues.

That’s all I can say about todays offering. A great deal of poetry has hit the list and you may well find something you wish to rave about. I’ll just keep playing Aretha Franklin, now she has moved on to "RESPECT" and I feel her pain

U.P.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

U.P.:

Thank you for mentioning my piece. I'm glad to know that someone who appreciates good poetry like yourself takes some of his precious time to read my attempts. I'm trying to get better every time I write something new.

Specifically about Comfortably Numb, I wasn't too sure. I enjoyed writing it, and as far as content I was fairly certain it had done its job. I have doubts about its form, though. Someone told me, commenting this piece:

I have two reactions. The first is that the last two lines are fresh and powerful. "Make it new" said Pound, and you made it new there. The second is that to my ear the verse sounds more like prose than poetry. That is not meant as a criticism, just as observation. The piece has all the virtues that excellent prose should have: clear, fresh, concise, and good strong images. It doesn't seem to me to have much in the way of the residual meter and rhythm that even free verse usually has, though.

What do you think? I find this very significative, because my writings are shifting very rapidly into prose these days, and I'm finding myself in a better (or at least more comfortable) position to produce anything close to poetry without even versifying.

And you're right about the title. This piece wasn't supposed to have a title, but I really didn't want the first line "It was seven thirty" to act like one. I ended up using the first thing that popped into my head while I was on the submissions page. Famous song titles have a way of popping into one's head and not leaving...

 

[daughter]

Re: Re: Choose your weapon

By the way, UP, the problem is that my poetry is too complex. When you don't understand it, I don't explain it, because I don't understand it. Therefore, I've come to the conclusion that my poetry is brilliant, because it's beyond our comprehension.
Though, this particular poem is not complex. It came straight from my heart and everyone likes it.

LOL

WE, this is one of the reasons I am glad that we're friends. You are serious about your efforts, but you don't take yourself too seriously. (that and you have no problem tellin' me to back up.)

I think most artists have a good measure of arrogance so when you meet one that has matured enough to temper it with some humility and honesty, it is refreshing.

I'm as opinionated as UP, but rarely as funny. Keep doin' what you do. I love how you do it.

Peace,

daughter

 

[daughter]

Judo

I think your poem is commendable. Adhering to form for the sake of form only makes as much sense as arguing something is a poem without any application of device or form.

What your selection illustrates is the power, beauty, and effectiveness of employing form. It matters less that you did not write the form perfectly.

I appreciate what you do.

Thanks for the read.

Peace,

daughter

 

[daughter]

The misunderstood artist

What is most disappointing about the pinings of the hobby poet is the obvious lack of knowledge and application of poetic form. Writing poety is an art form and as such there are tools and forms that define it. Art reflects our lives, but it is not a replication. It is craft.

A journal entry is a cathartic, narcissistic effort that exists principally for the benefit of the writer. Sometimes, that effort resonates with a reader. However, it is not art. If a writer is writing solely for himself then there is no basis for defending or becoming offended when his effort is not valued. From the onset, "It's for me" is a proclamation that the reader is unimportant. Why then should a reader be endeared to the writer?

Unfortunately, the novice writer blurs the idea of agreement and comprehension. Art is shared because the artist wants to make a statement and wants it understood. The artist doesn't seek validation nor accolades. He wants to create a communication and that means acknowledgment, comprehension. If a writer doesn't care if he is understood why then put it in a public arena? Keep it in a journal, share it with friends and lovers, but don't splatter it on a screen and become offended when a reader doesn't exclaim your genius.

I participate in writer communities to discuss the writing process, to have an intellectual exchange about craft. I come to celebrate a shared passion for the power of words. I'm not here to make friends or be a virtual group therapy member. I'm here for the poetry.

I have made some good friends here so good that I will honestly share with my peers what I think of their work and humble enough to accept their opinions. We don't always agree and that's okay. We're here to discuss art not to stroke each other's egos.

Peace,

daughter

 

[Sweetwood]

*Applauding loudly to daughter*

I am very glad that you have written your previous post.

While approval of the reader is always a stroke to the ego, the artistic process is more important than ego stroking.

The artistic process if it is properly understood, and it's craft learned and applied will reveal in the art it produces almost invariably an element that is so universally human, that it speaks to the reader.

If that then is the measure, our efforts are poor indeed, and art is few and far between. Poetry is so much more than an emotional outlet for artist and audience. It is in Rilke's words, the divining of the edge of the world in form and content. (his letters about Cezanne.

This site is about poetry, and in my humble view should be the cafe in which we poetry types try to solve the poetic problems of the world in discussion and communication. We all can become masters by doing and being beaten over the head with it. Just let's not take ourselves so serious that our work becomes like an ugly monument stuck in a dusty twon square.

A good work day to you all

Sweetwood

 

[WickedEve]

Re: Re: Re: Choose your weapon

LOL

WE, this is one of the reasons I am glad that we're friends. You are serious about your efforts, but you don't take yourself too seriously. (that and you have no problem tellin' me to back up.)

I think most artists have a good measure of arrogance so when you meet one that has matured enough to temper it with some humility and honesty, it is refreshing.

I'm as opinionated as UP, but rarely as funny. Keep doin' what you do. I love how you do it.

Peace,

daughter

Gosh, d. I was being serious. My poetry is like so totally complex that I can't write it and chew gum at the same time.

daughter, you're often funny! You're witty! It's just that some of us aren't bright enough to understand your complex sense of humor. tee hee

Eve

 

[Senna Jawa]

a formal q.

Is this and the other thread about new poems for praise only or may/should some misgivings about the praised poems be voiced here too? May be only in other threads, with the author's encouragement only?

Regards,

 

[karmadog]

Thanks UP

I appreciate the mention. "Fine word sensibility" is high praise from a careful, critical reader. I am more than aware of my flaws as a poet, but still...

(Ellipses for Muffin)

 

[Unmasked Poet]

Indeed

SJ, it takes a level of maturity as a writer to read criticism or to know that comments that are not flattering are out there. There are many poets on this board who have that maturity. But most of the poets that post here do not. If you want to avoid conflict simply ask permission to critique a poem (I know that is childish, but that is how it is.)

Goes back to what I was saying about Poets. It is a title we give far to graciously, it is often undeserved. A poet can accept critique that is negative, or not flattering. But you have to be a grown up to be a poet.

If you have time, search the archives of the poetry threads and read the New # 1. It will take some time to go through it. But it will be a valuable education.

Criticize anything you want just be ready to bruise some egos, and cause a stir.

U.P.