| Author | Message | ||
| Fred Longworth
Senior Member Username: sandiegopoet Post Number: 5581 Registered: 05-2006 |
There is no doubt that for poets the things we write are highly valuable to us as a way we come to terms with stresses (or acknowledge joys) in our lives . . . using words, pen and paper (or their virtual analogs) as the instruments. There is also no doubt that many among us -- realizing that the poems others have written serve the same functions for them -- read the poems of others in order to gain intimacy with the mind and heart of another human, and to please and/or enrich ourselves through such contact. The above more or less defines the nourishment available to members of a poetry community, individually and collectively. But what role does poetry play in the greater society, in the broader culture? Shall we include the generally simple rhymed poetry found in contemporary music -- especially country western music -- in answering this question? And, if we do, is the role played by this straightforward, popular "poetry" highly dissimilar to the role played by complex page poems? And finally, do complex page poems really serve the broader society at all? -- or is this a pleasure shared only among an in-group? I'm not taking a stand on this, not answering these questions myself. What do YOU think? Fred * * * * * I do not wish my worms to be considered for annelid of the week. They are already so thin and emaciated. I can only pray for compost. | ||
| Lazarus
Senior Member Username: lazarus Post Number: 4707 Registered: 10-2005 |
What we play with in art is the capacity of the human mind to connect, remember, and be present. If the art goes beyond that and inspires action it is a bonus, but if that is the purpose of the artist it is going to be more like propaganda than art, and will only be found to be art long after the message has relevance, and the beauty is all that matters. -Laz | ||
| bob rojas
Valued Member Username: bob_rojas Post Number: 142 Registered: 06-2008 |
i think most of it is worthless to greater society. i've also claimed that country music is the highest of high art because it communicates on a universal level, whereas most of us are wildly pretentious. but i do believe contemporary poetry can be written on a level that is understood and loved by more than just poets. buwkowski has more readers than eliot- get the drift? if communication remains the most valuable purpose of poetry, i think it'll always have meaning to "greater society". unfortunately, most of us get lost in pretension. we write for other poets. kristofferson never wrote for dr.snobby pants, and if you ask me, he's as good a poet as they come. | ||
| LJ Cohen
Moderator Username: ljc Post Number: 10907 Registered: 07-2002 |
Fred--I think poetry is a subset of artistic endeavors in general. In my experience with children (both as a parent and as a volunteer in the schools), the search for self expression and meaning in art is part of being human. Whether in words, song, dance, sculpture, etc, we seem to have an innate need to create things of beauty and metaphoric meaning. I also find it interesting that people reach for poems to express emotions at life events like baby namings, marriages, and funerals. So while I don't have an academic treatise of what the relevancy of poetry is, I do believe that it is relevant. Perhaps I'll have more to say when the level of caffeine has reached therapeutic dose in my brain.  Best, ljc Once in a Blue Muse Blog "Chop Wood, Carry Water" | ||
| Marty Abuloc
Valued Member Username: desert_journey Post Number: 153 Registered: 09-2007 |
I think that poetry as a means of self-expression serves to broaden the horizon of those who read them. It is most felt in countries where oppression and injustice is the norm. It is also a means to define an era. For example, my country experienced social unrest from the early 70's culminating in the mid-80's. During this time, the poetry of our nation, or at least the ones that were well accepted by the younger generation (who are now in their middle ages) were not really love poems, but socialy relevant poems...the kind that speak of freedom, death, revolution, poverty, inequality, struggles, and land reform. Ultimately, a poet cannot disassociate himself from what is going on around him, and if he does succeed at doing so, then he maybe called irrelevant in that era (not necessarilly a few years after that era). Not all poems though are socially relevant. I know mine arent :-) | ||
| Lazarus
Senior Member Username: lazarus Post Number: 4708 Registered: 10-2005 |
Marty brings up a good point about protest songs (and I would put hymns in this category too)- art that comes from a grassroots feeling and a perspective that many agree upon. These verses are meant to be persuasive too, they knock on the doors of the unseeing and ask them to look and decide for themselves. They are about individual experience when they come from that perspective, and group experience when they come from there. In Russia in the last century individualistic poetry was on the chopping block by government forces. The poems of Yevtushenko speak to the human experience, but the climate of his country's challenges hovers in every poem. He managed to survive in that climate by popularity, but often, in countries where there is oppression, poets who speak about personal and universal truths don't make it. I can't agree with bob that most poets write for other poets. The category "people who like poetry" tends to be "people who write poetry," but that's because they understand how hard it really is to do. My feeling is that poets need to remember that poetry is an oral art and make sure their poems can be read aloud. The ear knows much more about good poetry than the eyes. -Laz | ||
| ~M~
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 33375 Registered: 11-1998 |
"What is the broader social value of contemporary poetry?" I'm really not sure, Freddie. Must all art have broader social value? I used to make something called Tamari balls. It's a Japanese art that started as balls mothers made for their children to play with. Very beautiful, complex designs. When people looked at them, some often said, "They are beautiful, but what do you do with them?" I said, "You look at them. Do you ask what you do with a painting on the wall?" And I thought to myself, must all art have function beyond its appeal to the senses? I think sometimes art is just something beautiful to look at (or listen to, etc.), and appreciate for its beauty and nothing more. I'm not sure all art, including poetry, must have a societal function or value beyond that. That's not to say that some don't. There are definitely some pieces of art that are created mainly for their social value or the political, social, etc. statements they make. But I'm not sure every piece of art must. I guess I feel some artistic works are just meant to look at and go, "Ahhhh . . . " Poetry included. Just bringing beauty to the world -- even awful, terrifying, ugly beauty -- is worth something, isn't it? And isn't that beauty, in and of itself, already the broader social value? As I said, I don't really know. I'd rather spend my time creating art (whatever that is), than analyzing it. Love, M | ||
| W.F. Roby
Intermediate Member Username: wfroby Post Number: 624 Registered: 03-2008 |
I communicate to friends and loved ones with poems. I suppose my only answer would be that I use words (pen and paper) to communicate with those I want to seek greater contact with. Can't always trust my meat-bag to speak what it is I want to say. | ||
| Gary Blankenship
Moderator Username: garydawg Post Number: 27490 Registered: 07-2001 |
Look to Poets against the War for the answer. Also look to PAW for the reason why not. PAW was a wonderful opportunity, but imnho it did not fulfill it's promise. Poetry as an art tends to be on the edges compared to most other arts, including dance. That is not say, it does not have a place, that we do not need it. The next question might be: If I am right, how can its social value be increased? Smiles. Gary Celebrate Walt with Gary: http://www.poetrykit.org/pkl/tw10/tw4conte.htm | ||
| Dan Tompsett
Intermediate Member Username: db_tompsett Post Number: 389 Registered: 07-2007 |
Country music lyrics are not poetry. They are lyrics. There is a difference. "People who believe a lot of crap are better off." Charles Bukowski | ||
| Gary Blankenship
Moderator Username: garydawg Post Number: 27491 Registered: 07-2001 |
Except Roy Orbison, and the Dixie Chick's Top of the World. Maybe Hank Williams. And don't forget Lorreta Lynn. Smiles. Gary Celebrate Walt with Gary: http://www.poetrykit.org/pkl/tw10/tw4conte.htm | ||
| bob rojas
Valued Member Username: bob_rojas Post Number: 143 Registered: 06-2008 |
kristofferson, van zandt, guy clark, robert earl keen. i'd call it poetry. | ||
| S. Thomas Summers
Advanced Member Username: s_thomas_summers Post Number: 1481 Registered: 10-2006 |
"What is the broader social value of contemporary poetry?" I believe that poetry, like all art, can knit individual members of society into a weave stronger than society. Why do we gather here? To share poetry. To talk poetry. To grow as artists. I doubt many of us would call each other friend if poetry failed to exist. So, there's one reason, briefly stated, why poetry benefits society. Make sense? visit me at http://www.freewebs.com/sthomassummers/ author of "Death settled well" and "Rather, It Should Shine" | ||
| S. Thomas Summers
Advanced Member Username: s_thomas_summers Post Number: 1486 Registered: 10-2006 |
Furthermore, poetry develops a keener appreciation of breath. I rarely take life for granted. I appreciate the beauty life envelopes. I notice what others see, but fail to notice. Therefore, I'm unable to present that beauty. I'm able to create beauty. Powerful stuff, huh?!?!?! We all do it! (Message edited by s thomas summers on March 02, 2009) visit me at http://www.freewebs.com/sthomassummers/ author of "Death settled well" and "Rather, It Should Shine" | ||
| Dan Tompsett
Intermediate Member Username: db_tompsett Post Number: 390 Registered: 07-2007 |
Here are the lyrics to my favorite Roy Orbison song. Love the song. Would hate this as a poem: IN DREAMS A candy-colored clown they call the sandman Tiptoes to my room every night Just to sprinkle stardust and to whisper Go to sleep. Everything is all right. I close my eyes, then I drift away Into the magic night. I softly say A silent prayer like dreamers do. Then I fall asleep to dream my dreams of you. In dreams I walk with you. In dreams I talk to you. In dreams you're mine. All of the time we're together In dreams, in dreams. But just before the dawn, I awake and find you gone. I can't help it, I can't help it, if I cry. I remember that you said goodbye. It's too bad that all these things, can only happen in my dreams Only in dreams. In beautiful dreams. "People who believe a lot of crap are better off." Charles Bukowski | ||
| bob rojas
Valued Member Username: bob_rojas Post Number: 144 Registered: 06-2008 |
the 1st verse of "rake" by townes van zandt. i don't wanna highjack the thread, but poetry can be found in country music. "I used to wake and run with the moon I lived like a rake and a young man I covered my lovers with flowers and wounds My laughter the devil would frighten The sun she would come and beat me back down But every cruel day had it’s nightfall I’d welcome the stars with wine and guitars Full of fire and forgetful" | ||
| Judy Thompson
Advanced Member Username: judyt54 Post Number: 1404 Registered: 11-2007 |
that poetry matters to us, and to people who read it, has to be enough. the rest of the world, the part that hasnt a clue, will have to do without. There is no point in writing for or worrying about a 'society in general', since they wouldn't get it even if it were handed to them. I guess you have to write for yourself and for the unseen and mostly unknown audience that does indeed love what we do and what they do, and hope it's enough. Afraid of the Dark | ||
| Dan Tompsett
Intermediate Member Username: db_tompsett Post Number: 391 Registered: 07-2007 |
You mean Joe, the plummer doesn't appreciate Walt Whitman? Damn. "People who believe a lot of crap are better off." Charles Bukowski | ||
| Judy Thompson
Advanced Member Username: judyt54 Post Number: 1405 Registered: 11-2007 |
'fraid so. then again, some do. Afraid of the Dark | ||
| Will Eastland
Intermediate Member Username: dwillo Post Number: 981 Registered: 07-2006 |
Walt Whitman is timeless, but not contemporary. I know people who like poetry, but don't like contemporary poetry, (which one could argue has extendended them little invitation apart from Kooser, Oliver, and Kenyon to participate in it). I occassionally email them something I've come across, trying to keep it accessible Bly, Lux, Frannie Lindsay, and they usually respond with a "blech". These are not video-game obsessed empty heads. These are thoughtful people who write themselves--informal essays, sermons, computer programs, etc. So I would agree with Judy. Contemporary poetry's influence, at its broadest, is very, very narrow. Walk carefully-- your shoe is what you shine your shadow with. ~Jessica Goodfellow | ||
| Christopher T George
Senior Member Username: chrisgeorge Post Number: 7340 Registered: 12-2004 |
Hi Fred, M, Gary, Liza, et al. Why does poetry have to have a social function? A poem either works or it doesn't. It either speaks to the reader or not. It can be evocative and resonant, if it reaches an audience. But the large mass of the population is ignorant of it. You know that's so. It's true. They know "American Idol" and "Lost" but they don't know what we, or most poets, write. If we can reach some of them all well and done, fine, mission accomplished. But I wouldn't count on us being able to do so any time soon. And, Gary, as for Poets Against the War, I admire their work and wish them well, but how much of it is preaching to the choir?  All the best Chris Editor, Desert Moon Review http://www.thedesertmoonreview.com Co-Editor, Loch Raven Review http://www.lochravenreview.net http://chrisgeorge.netpublish.net/ | ||
| Dan Tompsett
Intermediate Member Username: db_tompsett Post Number: 392 Registered: 07-2007 |
The masses will probably go "Blech" at the mention of Beethoven or Sibelius, too. Bring on the Jonas Brothers or Achey Breaky Heart! "People who believe a lot of crap are better off." Charles Bukowski | ||
| brenda morisse
Senior Member Username: moritric Post Number: 3182 Registered: 04-2007 |
I write poetry because I’m in love with poetry. Poetry is my husband. He’s a bruiser a sumo wrestler, a Buddha and I punish his smiling face and turn him on his head. I jump out the window and he catches the quarter for the washing machine in his mouth. He stalks me. Tells me to remember that truck. It's yellow. I tell him secrets, I lie to him, I flatter him and tickle him. We make love and he tells me I worry too much. He tells me that I love him because of the ecstasy zone where nothing else matters. He tells me he feels used. I’ve tried others but always return to poetry. We laugh together. Oh ham hock, ham hock where are you ham hock? Oh lamb chop lamb chop where are you lamb chop? Oh pork butt, oh chicken thighs, oh oxtail, oxtail, where are you? Then we fight. I tell poetry to go fuck yourself and turn away from him and watch law and order. I write because my eyes are brown, if they were green, the world would nag me to mow it and I’d spend my days planting vegetables and weeding the garden. If my eyes were blue, the sky would enter the mirror and I would gawk and chase after heaven. If my hair were blonde, I’d tease and comb and comb and comb... If my hair were red, I’d brush until my scalp was bloody. If my nails were long, I’d manicure and chip and pick and reapply all through the day. If my ears were bigger, the world would pierce every moment. I write because the windows are open and there’s a shiver in the air. (Message edited by moritric on March 02, 2009) | ||
| Rodney L. Eisenbrandt
Senior Member Username: nevadarod Post Number: 4541 Registered: 10-2007 |
To be able to warm the heart. Lord help me make it through my life. P. S. I can't always follow the rules so sometimes I break umm. | ||
| Judy Thompson
Advanced Member Username: judyt54 Post Number: 1406 Registered: 11-2007 |
There are a number of contemporary poets I adore, from Richard Jackson to W.S. Merwin, from Albert Goldbarth to Mary Oliver and Dana Gioia. There are also a number of contemporary poets that move me not at all, or at least not beyond one or two pieces. So it's as much a matter of emotion and taste and what appeals as it is about anything. the most surprising things appeal to us. My mother-in-law, a small town lady with a very narrow range of interests, despises poetry but loves jazz. My grandmother loved boxing and wrestling (watching not participating). What Im saying is, it's unfair to lump segments of society into tidy little groups because of age, education, or assumed tastes. Very cool post, by the way, Brenda. Afraid of the Dark | ||
| Fred Longworth
Senior Member Username: sandiegopoet Post Number: 5590 Registered: 05-2006 |
Long ago, there were campfires, where the community gathered around; and later, public squares, where the community met and conversed and perhaps, as in Athens, conducted the business of the state. And there were bards, who combined the arts of the song and the verse. The tradition at the time was primarily oral. The bard performed poems for his public that created, recreated and embellished the myths by which the culture understood its history, anchored itself in the purposes of the times, revealed its values, and tried to come to terms with universals such as birth, death, war, love, honor, etc. So poetry was very much connected to the greater corpus of the culture. * * * * * Now it is not set in stone that an artform, once it emerges, must remain what it was early on. But when, in contemporary times, an artform in its putatively most evolved demeanor is highly disconnected -- almost the antithesis -- of how, long ago, it dovetailed with the broader culture . . . it brings to me great pause. To me, there are several "poetries" existing concurrently. There is the high poetry that most of the posters above have extolled. There is performance poetry, including SLAM, which has largely been ignored in the above discussion. And there is modern popular music, most exemplified by Country Western. All of these are poetry. Only the form largely practiced here and in the little magazines is significantly disconnected from the goings-on of the broader culture. It does give me pause. Fred I do not wish my worms to be considered for annelid of the week. They are already so thin and emaciated. I can only pray for compost. | ||
| Will Eastland
Intermediate Member Username: dwillo Post Number: 982 Registered: 07-2006 |
Fred, maybe I'm sheltered, but does slam have a significant nationwide non-poet following? One on the order that Country Music does? I would say slam is as disconnected from broader culture as "high poetry". Also, I would say that rap is a descendant of the oral tradition as well. Walk carefully-- your shoe is what you shine your shadow with. ~Jessica Goodfellow | ||
| Jim Corner
Senior Member Username: jdc Post Number: 4433 Registered: 09-2006 |
I've focused on progressive Christians. We have a bunch in our church who are contemporary in their faith. While they follow a liberal view of theology, they feel a need to enjoy poetry that speaks their language. It brings a believable mystic that enriches their involvement as they follow the Way. My best, Jim Corner Emboss The Snowflake Publisher of www.DesertMoonReview.com | ||
| Dan Tompsett
Intermediate Member Username: db_tompsett Post Number: 393 Registered: 07-2007 |
Here is a very interesting article on this topic. It is a bit long, so allow yourself time to read it if interested: http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007/02/19/070219fa_fact_goodyear "People who believe a lot of crap are better off." Charles Bukowski | ||
| Will Eastland
Intermediate Member Username: dwillo Post Number: 983 Registered: 07-2006 |
Somehow this seems appropriate in this thread-- To What Listens I come to it again and again, the thought of the wren opening his song here to no human ear - no woman to look up, no man to turn his head. The farm will sink then from all we have done and said. Beauty will lie, fold on fold, upon it. Foreseeing it so, I cannot withhold love. But from the height and distance of foresight, how well I like it as it is! The river shining, the bare trees on the bank, the house set snug as a stone in the hill's flank, the pasture behind it green. Its songs and loves throb in my head till like the wren I sing - to what listens - again. ~Wendell Berry . Walk carefully-- your shoe is what you shine your shadow with. ~Jessica Goodfellow | ||
| W.F. Roby
Intermediate Member Username: wfroby Post Number: 625 Registered: 03-2008 |
Here is Dorianne Laux, from a recent interview, answering a similar question about poetry -- "I write to add my voice to the sum of voices, to be part of the choir. I write to be one sequin among the shimmering others, hanging by a thread from the evening gown of the world. I write to remember. I write to forget myself, to be so completely immersed in the will of the poem that when I look up from the page I can still smell the smoke from the house burning in my brain. I write to destroy the blank page, unravel the ink, use up what I’ve been given and give it away. I write to make the trees shiver at the sliver of sun slipping down the axe blade's silver lip. I write to hurt myself again, to dip my fingertip into the encrusted pool of the wound. I write to become someone else, that better, smarter self that lives inside my dumbstruck twin. I write to invite the voices in, to watch the angel wrestle, to feel the devil gather on its haunches and rise. I write to hear myself breathing." | ||
| Fred Longworth
Senior Member Username: sandiegopoet Post Number: 5593 Registered: 05-2006 |
Gosh, Roby, that's utterly beautiful . . . I do not wish my worms to be considered for annelid of the week. They are already so thin and emaciated. I can only pray for compost. | ||
| W.F. Roby
Intermediate Member Username: wfroby Post Number: 626 Registered: 03-2008 |
Fred -- I think some of what Laux says speaks to those longago campfire bards' own desires. They didn't perform just to "embellish myths" etc etc -- but because this was the only job they could do that both earned them their keep and satsified their desires to, as Laux says, "dip [their] fingertip(s) into the encrusted pool of the wound." | ||
| LJ Cohen
Moderator Username: ljc Post Number: 10924 Registered: 07-2002 |
Wow, WF, thank you for sharing that Laux quote. It really spoke to me. best, ljc Once in a Blue Muse Blog "Chop Wood, Carry Water" | ||
| Will Eastland
Intermediate Member Username: dwillo Post Number: 984 Registered: 07-2006 |
I think the Laux quote, as affirming and eloquent as it is, actually reinforces the validity of Fred's original concern. Sure Laux is one of the more notable and sweeter voices in the choir, but how full are the auditorium seats? Ultimately her purposes seem self-focused. Which I make no judgement on, but merely note. Walk carefully-- your shoe is what you shine your shadow with. ~Jessica Goodfellow | ||
| Judy Thompson
Advanced Member Username: judyt54 Post Number: 1408 Registered: 11-2007 |
Will, unless we're all writing advertising jingles and greeting card stuff, none of us truly writes for anyone but ourselves, how can we? This is our own damn well we throw that pail in, and it's our own damn water that we draw up. Again and again. If someone else likes it, then it's cool. If they don't, it's a bit less cool, but that doesn't stop us from writing, because we are at heart writing to hear our own words in our own way. Afraid of the Dark | ||
| Will Eastland
Intermediate Member Username: dwillo Post Number: 985 Registered: 07-2006 |
Like I said, I wasn't judging, just noting. I think though there might be more space than you imagine between "Have you driven a Ford lately?" and ". . . I am nothing but sonar in february’s rimy trench or come tusk to tusk with the elephant iced to the bottom of the sea or the platform you step off in boston for the perianth light of this violent thing you say you don’t want to lick beneath his jackboot" Walk carefully-- your shoe is what you shine your shadow with. ~Jessica Goodfellow | ||
| Fred Longworth
Senior Member Username: sandiegopoet Post Number: 5594 Registered: 05-2006 |
To Judy, Will, et al: Ultimately, even our conceptions of others are simulations of them inside our own brains. I can never really know any of the "true you." All I can know is the virtual you that I create in my head. So ultimately it can be said that I am forever either writing to one of the various persona that constitute my own sense of "self," or I am writing to a portion of myself that I have dressed in the attire of the other. This may be the ultimate epistemology and ontology of being -- that I am ultimately engaging in a complex relationship with myself. But frankly, where does this lead? To self as God? To narcissism of the highest order? This POV is not conducive to the perspective that I am one of many, that I am one member of a community, that -- as Buber said -- "I and Thou" are what you and I and everyone else are all seeking. So, I do not accept that I am writing only for myself. Rather, I am hoping with every poem, with every essay, that somehow -- and that HOW may forever remain a mystery -- I will bridge the gap between self and other, between I and Thou, and actually communicate with another human being. I would, in fact, go so far as to say that poetry represents the most gallant effort on the part of human beings to bridge the gap between self and other, using the power of words. Fred I do not wish my worms to be considered for annelid of the week. They are already so thin and emaciated. I can only pray for compost. | ||
| W.F. Roby
Intermediate Member Username: wfroby Post Number: 631 Registered: 03-2008 |
" . . . but how full are the auditorium seats?" This is the same question that those of us involved in theatre ask ourselves -- for that is another art that is supposedly "dying out". I think it would be foolish of us to change our ways just to put butts in seats. | ||
| Will Eastland
Intermediate Member Username: dwillo Post Number: 986 Registered: 07-2006 |
A Noiseless Patient Spider A noiseless patient spider, I marked where on a little promontory it stood isolated, Marked how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, It launched forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself, Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them. And you O my soul where you stand, Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, easelessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them, Till the bridge you will need be formed, till the ductile anchor hold, Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul. ~Walt Whitman Sounds alot like what Fred said. And while I do not propose that Whitman's approach is the only good or pure one, over 100 years later he's popped up in this discussion twice now. Furthermore the speaker in this poem is addressing his own need (and is therefore self focused), but identifies his need as connection with another, rather than merely "shimmering". Our present perspective on contemporary poetry is irremediably skewed by the fact that we are some small part of it. Future generations of readers and professors will decide what was "good". I suspect that more rather than less of our writing that survives to be read in the future will be that which presently "[seeks] the spheres to connect them". Walk carefully-- your shoe is what you shine your shadow with. ~Jessica Goodfellow | ||
| Sieglinde Wood
Valued Member Username: ziggy Post Number: 129 Registered: 07-2008 |
Re Judy T's post #1408 - thrilling. We should have a Why-I-Write-Poetry-Challenge! Also loved Roby's post #625. Ah, there are so many rules: Serious musicians should not like Country & Western. Serious poets should eschew rhyme, unless it's sophisticatedly hidden (cross your legs and sit like a Lady...) Serious writers should not enjoy Stephen King...and so on. I used to think that I wrote for myself. Now I've realized that somewhere, Out There, are other Me's that are the ones who I'm really writing for. Or even the almost Me's. They get all my jokes and think my poems are what they'd write, if they could. Kind of like the way I feel when I look at Sasha Surikov's paintings. So I write what I would enjoy reading, and wordplay delights me more than anything else. Poetry seems to work well for this; although somebody once said that writing was a continuum of a straining toward style, from tight/representational toward looser/abstract... and difficult to delineate the types of Creative Writing. To me, Determining the line between lit and poem reminds me of the horticultural distinction between a large shrub and a small tree. Both are defined the same, with a mature height of 7 - 12ft. The difference is simply that we call one a "shrub", and the other a "small tree". Also, since I am a Red Diaper Babe, I get the most satisfaction from writing poetry that advances a spiritual or social cause (okay, prosletyzes...), maybe even Bearing Witness by telling the stories of others; trying-out different lives, speaking in different tongues. Too much Sartre at a tender age. Just trying to help (so to speak) Z P.S. Thanks for bringing up the topic in the first place, Fred! (Message edited by ziggy on March 13, 2009) | ||
| Arthur Seeley
Valued Member Username: amergin Post Number: 210 Registered: 12-2008 |
We are tumbled into this world of cacophony and chaos and spend the rest of our lives trying to organise our experience of that chaos, bring it to order, decode it, so that we can better understand it and our place and purpose in it. We have over millennia developed a broad range of tools with which to bring about that order, to help us define it. Science, music, religion, philosophy, mathematics, art, poetry, dance are just some of that range of tools we have at our disposal. Part of the chaos we are given for exploration is the social order that our particular civilisation bequeaths to us to use and improve as we will. That social order is about human relationships, friend with friend, father with son, daughter with mother, lover with lover, and so on and then our part in the larger social structure of our civilisation, what we can expect from it, what we should be prepared to give to it, how it can be made better. The same range of tools is still there to help us but then that is all we have. Poetry for me is my opportunity to explore an event, a sight, a feeling anything to bring it under my own microscope for labelling and understanding. If my poem reaches out to help someone else see what I saw, and understand as I understood then a purpose is served. Contemporary poetry deals with a more complex chaos than has existed previously but ill serves its purpose by being complicated and not speaking to the right people. It has become insular and those who write obscurely only add to the chaos they do not clarify simply because they are left unread and unheard or where read and heard not understood. Many of us are insular and pretentious desirous only of the applause of friends. From my window I can see the edge of Addingham Moor, a part of the greater Ilkley Moor, where there are stone circles and rocks marked with cup and ring designs dating from Neolithic times. Rivock The small gods’ realms of leaf and bole are gone now, hewn and hacked, their temples felled, their power dispelled, melted away into bog and heath, bracken, whin and cotton grass. Scuffed by centuries, splashed with lichen the rocks remain, etched with cups and rings, they endure. Scattered over the moors, these gyphs, their purpose, half-guessed at, intrigues and puzzles still. Bent in votive awe, some artist ran calloused fingers over these first scratchings; primal mark-making that met a need to order, an urge to please some god, sate some divine. Lore and myth carved into stone. I came upon one rock that reared. Bright with rain, it breached the sodden moor, its gallery of pocks and grooves ladders and serpents, shining in relief, clear in the diffuse light of a cloudy day. As rain rattled on my hood, I dipped my shoulder, followed forgotten feet, joined an ancient dance; mirrored the movement of the stars; printed patterns on the floor of a lost forest; muttered a guttural chorus to my muddy strophe. (Message edited by amergin on March 13, 2009) (Message edited by amergin on March 13, 2009) | ||
| Fred Longworth
Senior Member Username: sandiegopoet Post Number: 5642 Registered: 05-2006 |
Oh man, "Rivock" is sooooooooo good!!! Fred I do not wish my worms to be considered for annelid of the week. They are already so thin and emaciated. I can only pray for compost. | ||
| Abraham de la Torre
Valued Member Username: ham8113 Post Number: 120 Registered: 02-2009 |
Y'all, I used to keep my poems in a closet. I didn't know about Wild until recently. When a magical thing took wings. My poetry found company. Hearts that beat, nay breathe, passion, joy, grief, euphoria, yearning, pain, attitude, nostalgia, etcetera. Fred's erudite flippancy, Laz' capacity to connect, Bob's Bukowski drift, LJC's caffeine, Marty's means to be relevant, M's create-rather-than-evaluate mindset, WFRoby's words (lovely Laux!), Gary's grins, Dan's diffference, Scott's sense, Judy's adequacy, Chris' questions, Will's Wendell Berry, Z's proselytiZation, Brenda's Buddhist bruiser, Rodney's pithy reminder, Arthur's Addingham Moor. From closet to treasure chest, the obscure has opted for the outdoors, a humongous home, where friends are family gathered 'round a big bonfire of brilliance ablaze. The notion of inclusion is as good a gospel as any. Can't complain. Cheers, Ham (Message edited by ham8113 on March 13, 2009) The unjust sinner can no more go to heaven than the justified sinner can go to hell. - A.W. Tozer | ||
| Sieglinde Wood
Valued Member Username: ziggy Post Number: 134 Registered: 07-2008 |
Hosannah! | ||
| Teresa White
Advanced Member Username: teresa_white Post Number: 1764 Registered: 01-2005 |
I was just crazy enough to think all I had to do was get published and, voila!, out would come the 'listeners' to hear my profundities. There is a poem title which never matured into a poem. I call it "Five Empty Chairs." I was signed up to give a poetry reading at a popular bookstore/music store here in Spokane, Washington. (It didn't help that this also happened to be St. Patrick's Day and that the entire city was downtown watching the parade.) Anyhoo, there I was, eager and nervous, sweaty hands and trembling heart only to see my audience: five empty chairs. Glad there's a place like WILD. Makes it all worthwhile to me. I say with no reservation that the poets writing here, posting here are my favorite poets. And I'm including those of our contemporaries who have "made it," so-to-speak: Laux Addonizio Dancing Bear John Amen Walter McDonald etc. etc. etc. I do care that there aren't more "plain folks" who enjoy poetry. I don't do a lot to promote my own books. Call it generally being quite bashful about self-promotion...But what I DO do is give my book to anyone and everyone who I come in contact with such as: The guy who came in to set up our new cable TV The group of young painters who painted our house last year The guy who mows our lawn My husband's physical therapist The list goes on... So, I find it's not how many readers I get...it's just that I want to connect with folks who don't even realize they like poetry. I happen to love the craft and probably always will. Thank you, Fred, for starting this thread. I've enjoyed reading everyone's remarks. Best, Teresa (Message edited by teresa_white on March 15, 2009) Be satisfied that ye have enough light to secure another foothold. Anon. | ||
| Dan Tompsett
Intermediate Member Username: db_tompsett Post Number: 426 Registered: 07-2007 |
Once, many years ago I had returned to the harbor where I lived from a day-trip "over the hill" (inland part of the SF Bay area), where I had purchased a book of poems by Charles Bukowski. I stopped by the Harbor Bar to have a drink or five. While sitting there I opened the book and began reading. After reading a particular poem I handed the book to a local fisherman and said to him "Hey; read this." He took the book and read the poem, and after doing so let out a chuckle. To make this narrative short; it wasn't long before the book was being passed from patron to patron with enthusiasm. I got a real kick out of that, and it made me smile. "People who believe a lot of crap are better off." Charles Bukowski | ||
| Judy Thompson
Advanced Member Username: judyt54 Post Number: 1423 Registered: 11-2007 |
Teresa, a lot of the problem is that publishers don't put a lot of effort into promoting new books by so-called 'unknowns'. They promote names, not books. I have heard horror story after horror story of mis-schedulings, of book stores that hadnt the faintest clue that there was to be a reading, of promoters who had no idea how to do it. amazon sells all those new books right alongside the remaindered (used copies) which go for a dollar, instead of the 15 they should. It amazes me that anyone even tries anymore. Our new bookstore (five years ago it was new) started out with a flourish, piles of books by bukowski, ar ammons, merwin, eliot, stallings. all of them. one entire wall. Now you go in and one dim corner is left, with Frost, shakespeare, whitman, and '100 best love poems". the rest of the wall is given over to romance novels and murder mysteries. I ache for good solid poets like you, who deserve to be Out There with the rest of 'em, and end up staring at five empty seats on St. Patricks day. <<hugs>> Afraid of the Dark | ||
| Teresa White
Advanced Member Username: teresa_white Post Number: 1766 Registered: 01-2005 |
Dan, Yep! That's the way to do it!!! I always have and always will refuse to believe that the 'average' person is not capable of reading/understanding poetry. Give em half a chance &, surprisingly, most (at least the ones I've palmed off a copy of one of my books) will find to their delight that they DO like this stuff called "poetry" after all. Btw, Dan, been meaning to tell you how much I like the Bukowski quote you use as a tag line! So much truth in that. Best, T. Be satisfied that ye have enough light to secure another foothold. Anon. | ||
| Teresa White
Advanced Member Username: teresa_white Post Number: 1767 Registered: 01-2005 |
Hey Judy, You forgot "Jewel" in that lonely corner with Frost, Shakespeare, and Whitman. And then there's the ole standby: Well, when I'm DEAD then I'll be recognized, read, etc. But, sheesh, my hubby's convinced that we're all going out in a bang when the 2029 asteroid hits our planet. There goes THAT bright idea. LOL And, hey, thanks for the support! ~T. Be satisfied that ye have enough light to secure another foothold. Anon. | ||
| Judy Thompson
Advanced Member Username: judyt54 Post Number: 1424 Registered: 11-2007 |
ive known you a long time,Teresa, and watched you sprout wings and fly. Just tell yourself, they don't know what they're missing, (and how could I have forgotten Jewel)... my only comfort about asteroids in twenty years is that if im still alive, I probably won't even notice when it hits. You might remind him about the magnetic fields reversing, too. In case he gets bored...*g* Afraid of the Dark |
