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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4396 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention The Word According to Tootsie Dane Hebert Poetry she said, has to have a soul and sing with the sounds of assonance. Not only alliteration to titillate the sensibilities but the burning blubbery of bruising bones and bygones. A crescendo of musical word sounds, without cleft lipped cliches written to sour the softness of nouns and vowels when whispered wistfully in one's mind or spoken aloud. It doesn't matter if a poem's depth is understood anymore, only that it magically makes music encapsulating the ear's inner energy kinetically connecting it to the clueless mind. Jazz juice for a tongue's tiny tasting. Its teasing and tortuous test of symphonic sound cymbals slowly satiating the senses. And if what Tootsie says is true, then surely e.e. cummings was a poetic genius far ahead of his time. If I lack in comparing his IQ to mine, I now vow to compensate for it by painting poetry in words for the hearing impaired and tea-totally tone deaf. Tuck that in your tuba and toot it, Tootsie! |
