The New Poems List

[Never]

Re: Re: Senna Jawa, This is the most enlightened post of yours that I have read!

Senna Jawa:
"Rybka, I do not know a single person who needs this "cautioning". Do you? I don't believe there is any."

Nor I, computer programming is much more satisfying but, sadly, more transitory.

 

[Rybka]

Logic & Spontaneity

Rybka, I do not know a single person who needs this "cautioning". Do you? I don't believe there is any.

Yes, I do. And I am surprised that you don't!

This is like saying that poets should have a balanced diet and should spent some time outdoors and exercising. All of them are useful advices.

But it is not the same as saying that a poet must learn to eat, to breathe, and to sleep.

One short statement and two huge errors in it. (i)There is no contradiction between spontaneity and logic just as there is no contradiction between spontaneity and high artistic level. (ii)

I do not deny the conjunction between creativity and spontaneity as almost being a prerequisite for high artistic talent. I am not so sure about the constraints of a formal logic system on art. If not censorious it may become confining and stifling.

One should not confuse boolean logic and poetic logic. Poetry has its own logic just as paintings have their own geometry.

I responded to this in another thread. - I guess logic may mean whatever you want to make it. Is it like a "private language"?


Regards,                 Rybka

 

[Senna Jawa]

Now about you being my boyfriend...

   "don't tease (please) ...
    i gave you all a boy can give you"

something like this

(There were great renditions of this song combined with another--first by Diana Ross, then by a man who sang in a high pitch voice, great too).

Best regards, you, Wicked (Eve)

 

[Never]

Intelispunk Inc.
This is an incredibly short, mildly humorous poem.

Fridge Mice
This is a great poem. Few adults know how to write for children without ‘dumbing down’ their work. The imagery is playful and light, avoiding any pretentiousness. It’s reminiscent of Where the Sidewalk Ends.

 

[JUDO]

Fridge Mice
This is a great poem. Few adults know how to write for children without ‘dumbing down’ their work. The imagery is playful and light, avoiding any pretentiousness. It’s reminiscent of Where the Sidewalk Ends.

Thanks, Never, for posting the link to "Fridge Mice" here. How delightful!


- Judo

 

[Never]

I live to serve, I serve to live.

 

[JUDO]

Cool. Fetch me a greyhound - with ice!


- Judo

 

[Suzi]

Oh Never....

I live to serve, I serve to live.

Perhaps I can serve
Give you a soothing herbal bath
Surrounded by fragrant candles
And an aura of peace...

After that, use lavender oil
To massage into your tired
Beautiful body
With my warm, willing
Hands.....
Starting at shoulders and neck...
Working down to shoulder blades...
Down arms...
Sides of sensitive breasts....
Sides of sensitive waist....
Curving into the small tender low back....
And curving up over
Two sensual globes that are your arse...
Rubbing, kneading....
I blow gentle breathe between them....
Applying more warm oil...I massage gently
Between your thighs....
Hear a soft groan escape you.
I rub slowly, steadily....with my thumbs...
Working carefully upward
Untill my sensitive hands detect your heat....

 

[_Land]

Re: Re: Re: Re: SJ thank you for you compliment

WOW, I think thats the most enlightening thing I have seen you post. I do the best I can with my poetry. I am very un-educated, as far my "literary" skills go, I miss a lot of simple things like punctuation, spelling etc....... My writings are more of raw emotions expressed then thought out poetry. I am learning the form, but I desperately need to release some of what I have trapped inside. So I write. I do listen to what is said about my poetry, and make adjusments. Im still "finding" my way around.

Thanks SJ

But I don't, I never do. Unless I am dragged into a personal exchange I stick strictly to poetry, to the issues.Strange, but my very first poem was very good. Then my batting average was low for a long time, and went up very slowly. Some of my early poems make me proud today, but majority was poor. This was the result of my conflicting impressions of what poetry is about. I could feel in a few cases that I did well, while reading most of those poems after years made me blush from embarassment. Mercifully, I lost almost all of them (while I wish bad a few more of them survived).

On one hand I had my own deep feeling about poeticity, on the other I tried to understand, learn, absorb, adjust to what I read and saw around me. Of this I did a poor job. It was confusing like this until I discovered the oriental poetry. Then finally I felt a relief and I was able to sort things out.

I had no natural ability. I bothered people around me as much as I could. I was fortunate to always find people around me who had ear for poetry. If two of them, independently, pointed to the same flaw in my piece then I knew that it was something objective. It was not easy to get feedback in the preInternet times. (Hm, Internet is a mixed blessing, you've got to be selective, use your judgement,...).

Clock kicks in (perhaps the biological clock). In the past I was not able to write poems like I do today or recently, while today I cannot write poems as in the past, I cannot recreate my best old poems, I cannot write poems in the style of those from the past.

It is extremely important to have the ability to be deeply ashamed of what you write. When you make a "booboo", you should feel frustrated, you should feel a burning pain.

Whenever you meet a true challange, larger than yourself, you need two wings to overcome it. One wing is confidence. The other wing is FEAR. You cannot fly without the two wings being equally powerful. Imagine that you are writing a computer program guiding a cosmic rocket. If you mess up, your family inside the rocket will never come back, will freeze out out there. One tiny bug bug anywhere in your program is enough to sentence them to death, to kill them. So, be intensive, be confident in your intensity, but have that constant fear in you all the time, the fear which keeps ypu honest. Only then you have a chance for a happy end. And there are no excuses.

The same with a poem. Let FEAR be your companion, let it be the companion of your confidence. Be on guard all the time during the writing process or else you will be happy but your child-poem will be dead.

My reactions to grave blunders in poetry are adequate. It is all within the world of art. It is not about the real life or about people who happened to write those poems. It's only about them as the authors of the particular piece under the consideration. And no more.

For each muscle there should be an opposite muscle of equal strength. Thus, for instance, you should be able both to admire and to be critical. Etc.

Yes, _Land, I was happy to see in several of your poems that you've got poetic talent. But if an author treats deadly errors, which nullify their writting effort as just a minor nothing of importance, if an author feels satisfied because here and there is something interesting in his/her poem, then such an author has no chance to get anywhere. You've got to be sharp. Confident but alert to dangers.In those cases you (and others) have a choice. You can be angry at me or... at yourself. (There is also that ostrich way too ).

Best regards,

 

[_Land]

I will not be doing the New Poems for the next week or so, I have several things to acomplish, including some contest entries. I need to get some writing done, also my Love has moved in. *SMILE* *GRIN* so no more lonely nights for writing.

SJ, I will write a technical poem for you this week too. Will see if I can manage something that is technically aceptable.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

New Poems

 

[Senna Jawa]

Originally posted by _Land I will write a technical poem[/B]

A technical poem? What's that?

I guess, you mean a well written poem.

Good luck,

 

[phatcat]

Hmmm

Hey SJ, wondering if you skipped my post by accident on purpose...
...would be curious about your answers.

 

[Suzi]

Re: Hmmm

Hey SJ, wondering if you skipped my post by accident on purpose...
...would be curious about your answers.

Well Phatcat...he has ignored people *ahem*...hell I sent a feedback to him on a poem he wrote, even left my email. Not a response did I get.

 

[sinistayo]

momma

Momma


Momma you said you loved me
But you made me hurt
Momma you told me it was for my own good
but you made it worst

Momma you told me it hurt you more than me
But I’m the one scared for life
Momma you lied to me
How could you do that I’m your son

Momma I hate you damn it
But I can forgive
Momma you made me build a wall around my heart
that nobody has been able to break

Momma you caused me to lose the true meaning of Love
All because you abused my Love
Momma you caused me to lose the meaning of trust
All because you abused me

Momma why would you beat your son
How could you do it?
Momma you lost your son forever
I have no love left to give you

Momma you can never ask me for nothing
Because I have found a family who loves me
Momma I can only say one thing
Bye Bye forever.

 

[sinistayo]

Momma


Momma you said you loved me
But you made me hurt
Momma you told me it was for my own good
but you made it worst

Momma you told me it hurt you more than me
But I’m the one scared for life
Momma you lied to me
How could you do that I’m your son

Momma I hate you damn it
But I can forgive
Momma you made me build a wall around my heart
that nobody has been able to break

Momma you caused me to lose the true meaning of Love
All because you abused my Love
Momma you caused me to lose the meaning of trust
All because you abused me

Momma why would you beat your son
How could you do it?
Momma you lost your son forever
I have no love left to give you

Momma you can never ask me for nothing
Because I have found a family who loves me
Momma I can only say one thing
Bye Bye forever.