one-thousand

[Lauren Hynde]

It took us a while to get here, but the Poetry Feedback & Discussion forum finally reached its 1000th thread!

Is there something we can do to celebrate this milestone?

Let's write some poetry.

All except me. I just got back from my trip (fun, fun, fun) and am completely exhausted.

PS: I missed you guys a lot.

 

[Angeline]

Welcome Back Lauren!

Missed you, cutie. What kind of poems? And you do, too, have to write one. Maybe not today, but you do!

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Let's write poetry about poetry, poems and/or poets. No rules. Just have fun.

 

[Cloudbrst9]

[delete]

 

[Senna Jawa]

Let's write poetry about poetry, poems and/or poets. No rules. Just have fun.

About what?! About poetry, poems, poets? No, no that. That's boring. Let's write about anything but that.

 

[RazzRajen]

About what?! About poetry, poems, poets? No, no that. That's boring. Let's write about anything but that.

Agrees with Senna.....anything but that!


Razz

 

[OT]

Let's write some poetry.

All except me. I just got back from my trip (fun, fun, fun) and am completely exhausted.

Your font looks all tanned and relaxed. Welcome back.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

warning: boring poetry ahead

During an intermission
changing trains
in Frankfurt-am-Main
I visit
the restaged home
where Goethe was born.

It's charming
with its many stories
                    chambers
                    vestibules
full of period furniture
         books
         assorted memories.

It's a museum
but there's a harmony
                an equilibrium
                an almost tender manner
                                   so homely.

I climb the many stairs
I even saunter through the kitchen-

The attic
however
is off-limits.

I wonder if that's where they store
the dark secrets and fantasies
the official memory
proscribes.

In the gift shop I
ascetically
buy a mere
postcard:
a portrait of the Poet
histrionically reclined
over an imaginary Italian landscape.

With time
every poet turns into his own spoils
but can you
     ever again
hear the inaudible?

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Thanks, OT.

And you too, Senna. Made me feel right at home in no time.

 

[Senna Jawa]

It took us a while to get here, but the Poetry Feedback & Discussion forum finally reached its 1000th thread

Hey, Lauren, welcome back!

This is a nice trivia item! Where did you get it from? Do you know about more trivia besides the top lists and one's own list of posts?

Regards,

 

[RazzRajen]

welcome back lauren

Let's write poetry about poetry, poems and/or poets. No rules. Just have fun.

Welcome back lauren..

and Having fun is great....

Let's All have a go ...


Razz

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Re: Re: one-thousand

Hey, Lauren, welcome back!

This is a nice trivia item! Where did you get it from?

Thanks!

I counted them!

Ok, just kidding... I think this varies with what layout style you're using, but in the board's front page (here) I can see columns with each forum name and description, post and thread numbers, last post listings and moderators assigned. Says right there: Poetry Feedback & Discussion - 1000 threads

 

[WickedEve]

We now have 1,001 threads. How long before we catch up with GB's 116,441?

 

[Angeline]

I like poets

Burroughs

Skink thin in a black overcoat,
and pressed to a starch stiff collar
in skin so papery white he should crackle,
Bill is immaculate and almost translucent.

He is elegant and ironic,
a practiced punctuation
that curves the crease of his trousers,
and balances him on a foundation
of polished leather.

He glints as much as any icicle
on Tenth Street in late December.
Horns beep and his head shifts,
swinging toward rush hour
in reptilian nonchalance.

His eyes are brilliant, flat
and fedora shadowed,
but his hands are swollen
and lumpy with veins that stretch
thin as milky needles under his skin,
and tremble misshapen
against the gold bulb of his cane.

 

[Senna Jawa]

Re: I like poets

Burroughs

[...]

Solid job. But yes, it's boring.

 

[Angeline]

Solid job. But yes, it's boring.

Well that, Senna, is your opinion and one that not everyone will share. Surprisingly, perhaps, I do agree with you. It's not a particularly interesting poem to me, either. It's a description of William Burroughs as I recall seeing him years ago, standing in front of St. Mark's Church on the Bowery. But the poem is boring to me because I'm not particularly excited about Burroughs as a writer and he didn't *do* anything when I saw him that day--he was just a guy standing there. The best thing I could find to say was that for all his posturing posture, he was still an old man whose hands shook, probably from years of substance abuse. But that doesn't mean it's impossible to write an exciting or moving-- however you want to put it--poem about a poet or poem. I just chose unwisely and wrote it in about 15 minutes.

 

[darkmaas]

Hi Senna

It's kinda funny you know.

Back in the mists of time when darkmaas was in grade 5, he used to think poetry was boring too. We would say the word "Bore-Ring" then laugh at how very clever we were. Remember when you could get cooties from talking to a girl?

Those were the days eh?

darkmaas

 

[Lauren Hynde]

We now have 1,001 threads. How long before we catch up with GB's 116,441?

At the present rate, and assuming they will all stop posting tomorrow, we'll catch up with them sometime before 2184. I can hardly wait.

 

[Senna Jawa]

Well that, Senna, is your opinion and one that not everyone will share. Surprisingly, perhaps, I do agree with you. It's not a particularly interesting poem to me, either. It's a description of William Burroughs as I recall seeing him years ago, standing in front of St. Mark's Church on the Bowery. But the poem is boring to me because I'm not particularly excited about Burroughs as a writer and he didn't *do* anything when I saw him that day--he was just a guy standing there. The best thing I could find to say was that for all his posturing posture, he was still an old man whose hands shook, probably from years of substance abuse. But that doesn't mean it's impossible to write an exciting or moving-- however you want to put it--poem about a poet or poem. I just chose unwisely and wrote it in about 15 minutes.

I had no idea that you were the author of this poem. As I said, it is technically well written, solid, but... ok, you know.

My short "protest" about the poetry/poets/poems as a theme should be understood as an advice and a statistical rule. After all, I myself have writen a couple of them:



    poe tr y


        poetry you're a difficult lover
        i know you prefer it outdoors
        you desire cold shores and tall mountains
        sun burning rain camouflage and soft snow

        you like fireplay randomly cracking
        ornaments moving on the wall
        puffed pillows under your convex buttocks
        never worried about closing your doors


wh, 1991

Here is another:



    my strict stepmother


        english tongue -- wigglish
        a snake a fish
        the grammar-bird flying over
        the boundless melody
        of liquid phrases

        the hungry snake
        the slippery fish
        the bird of steel
        demands the grain the pearls the words

        english -- the rarefied mountain air
        english -- a rock on my chest


wh,
1992-04-06

But when the masters of mixing the Hallmark poetry with graphic sex cliched descriptions start to write about poetry/poets/poems the odds are that the result will be cliched and paperish like used restroom tissue. Well, good luck everybody, prove me wrong.

BTW, Angeline, I am not in a business of stating common or popular opinions. And neither in the business of the unpopular or shocking ones. I simply state what I think. It's that simple. Thus there is no need to "remind me" that my opinions are not necessarily shared by others.

I should really thank you for your kind words about my recently posted poems. I didn't respond because too many thoughts, relevant and not, were going through me. In particular thank you for spotting the missing "ed" in "listen[ed]". My grasp of the language is so shaky that in my case there is no distinction between an error and a typo. I fixed it only yesterday. (It will take perhaps about 7-10 days before the correction will show up).

And since you've mentioned jazz (both of us like to feature jazz in our poems one way or another), perhaps you won't mind these lines:


    the open windows let the breeze inside
    the silly birds keep singing "You are mine"
    turn the key turn the key say "Hello!"
    i'll kiss you squeeze you press against the door



Regards,

 

[WickedEve]

At the present rate, and assuming they will all stop posting tomorrow, we'll catch up with them sometime before 2184. I can hardly wait.

You're young enough that you may have chance of being here when that happens. lol

 

[Angeline]

BTW, Angeline, I am not in a business of stating common or popular opinions. And neither in the business of the unpopular or shocking ones. I simply state what I think. It's that simple. Thus there is no need to "remind me" that my opinions are not necessarily shared by others.

I wasn't trying to remind you. Honest. It was just an observation.

But when the masters of mixing the Hallmark poetry with graphic sex cliched descriptions start to write about poetry/poets/poems the odds are that the result will be cliched and paperish like used restroom tissue. Well, good luck everybody, prove me wrong.

I could have done without the restroom tissue metaphor, lol, but having just read the incredibly dreary offerings attempting to pass as "erotic" poetry in today's new poems postings, you'll get no argument from me.

And, yes, jazz (for me, too) is always a good anecdote.

Off to write new poems reviews,
A.

 

[WickedEve]

Re: I like poets

Burroughs

Skink thin in a black overcoat,
and pressed to a starch stiff collar
in skin so papery white he should crackle,
Bill is immaculate and almost translucent.

He is elegant and ironic,
a practiced punctuation
that curves the crease of his trousers,
and balances him on a foundation
of polished leather.

He glints as much as any icicle
on Tenth Street in late December.
Horns beep and his head shifts,
swinging toward rush hour
in reptilian nonchalance.

His eyes are brilliant, flat
and fedora shadowed,
but his hands are swollen
and lumpy with veins that stretch
thin as milky needles under his skin,
and tremble misshapen
against the gold bulb of his cane.

Even though this is only a description of the man, it's still an excellent description that I enjoyed reading. If you add only a stanza about how the encounter affected you, for instance, (though, unfortunately, he didn't do anything for you) then you'd have a much more interesting poem. Actually, mentioning how he didn't do anything for you and why, would be a nice addition to an already good poem.

 

[Angeline]

Actually, mentioning how he didn't do anything for you and why, would be a nice addition to an already good poem.

Thanks Eve--good advice as always! (he kind of creeped me out, lol.)

P.S. And darkmaas? It was the *boys* who had the cooties, not the girls!

 

[OT]

P.S. And darkmaas? It was the *boys* who had the cooties, not the girls! [/B]

Are cooties related to termites?

(might explain some oft-mentioned holes in my wooden head )

 

[Angeline]

Are cooties related to termites?

I'm sure you've had neither.

but someone seems to have stolen your facial features