Poetry

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    Poetry

    I am not a poetry person. But I do read a lot of it - I just don't understand most of it . The power in poetry (or one of) is that it makes you focus. I compare it to mindful meditation. Experiencing your humanity - while reaching across time and space to another individual.

    ANYWAY, here's something to consider.....

    Tuesday 9:00 AM


    A man standing at the bus stop
    reading the newspaper is on fire
    Flames are peeking out
    from beneath his collar and cuffs
    His shoes have begun to melt

    The woman next to him
    wants to mention it to him
    that he is burning
    but she is drowning
    Water is everywhere
    in her mouth and ears
    in her eyes
    A stream of water runs
    steadily from her blouse

    Another woman stands at the bus stop
    freezing to death
    She tries to stand near the man
    who is on fire
    to try to melt the icicles
    that have formed on her eyelashes
    and on her nostrils
    to stop her teeth long enough
    from chattering to say something
    to the woman who is drowning
    but the woman who is freezing to death
    has trouble moving
    with blocks of ice on her feet

    It takes the three some time
    to board the bus
    what with the flames
    and water and ice
    But when they finally climb the stairs
    and take their seats
    the driver doesn't even notice
    that none of them has paid
    because he is tortured
    by visions and is wondering
    if the man who got off at the last stop
    was really being mauled to death
    by wild dogs.
    —Denver Butson
    Last edited by MoreQ; April 25th, 2016, 06:56 PM. Reason: fixed line breaks

    #2
    Oh I love poetry (didn't use to) although I'm a fan of the political stuff. None of that flowery going to describe something because I can. The New York School with their walk and talk poems have been my obsession this past semester (I am a poetry minor and it seems every semester I have someone I like who is different from the past semester). I also really like Blood by Shane McCrae although the cover kinda freaks me out. This semester I think my favorite book has been Wake by Bin Ramke I like the way he mixes poetry and science accents. And the book that got me into poetry was An Aquarium by Jeffrey Yang.

    If you get the opportunity to go to a poetry reading man are they fun! Highly recommended!

    I didn't like (actually feared) poetry but the modern stuff is so different from the stuffy poems they teach in high school. It's a shame teachers feel so attached to the traditional poems I think kids would like being exposed to modern poetry and like poetry more.

    Comment


      #3
      MoreQ , i read a lot of poetry. Well, i try to. And then I cannot help but release words in the form of poems too. I am no good, but a chance to read a new poem, a new poet is just fantastic. Loved that piece, is just rings true to the modern man trying to make sense of an insane urban jungle while carrying forests unexplored in his/her mind.
      Thank you!

      Comment


        #4
        Originally posted by thething213 View Post
        Oh I love poetry (didn't use to) although I'm a fan of the political stuff. None of that flowery going to describe something because I can. The New York School with their walk and talk poems have been my obsession this past semester (I am a poetry minor and it seems every semester I have someone I like who is different from the past semester). I also really like Blood by Shane McCrae although the cover kinda freaks me out. This semester I think my favorite book has been Wake by Bin Ramke I like the way he mixes poetry and science accents. And the book that got me into poetry was An Aquarium by Jeffrey Yang.

        If you get the opportunity to go to a poetry reading man are they fun! Highly recommended!

        I didn't like (actually feared) poetry but the modern stuff is so different from the stuffy poems they teach in high school. It's a shame teachers feel so attached to the traditional poems I think kids would like being exposed to modern poetry and like poetry more.


        Can you recommend a poet from this school?

        Comment


          #5
          MoreQ Oh now Darebee has come to fully perfection, POETRY !

          Comment


            #6
            Definitely MoreQ the New York School of poets are poets from the united States in 1950 and 1960. They're more traditional poets than the modern ones but drastically changed the poetic landscape. Famous New York School poets are Frank O'Hara and Kenneth Koch. Later Alice Notley and a few others became the second generation New York School poets. Alice Notley in particular is still publishing and lives in Paris.

            The poets which are all grouped together have casual address to the reader with more commom language and are known for their walk and talk poems that tend to be flow of consciousness as if you're walking down the street (Frank O'Hara's collection "Lunch Poems has you experiencing new York as if you're walking around midtown).

            Comment


              #7
              thething213 , Thanks You reminded that I have to revisit and maybe take a print of Frank O'Hara Meditation in An Emergency. Heard it on Madmen the first time. Just brilliant.

              http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poet...s/detail/26538

              Comment


                #8
                Originally posted by rahul27 View Post
                thething213 , Thanks You reminded that I have to revisit and maybe take a print of Frank O'Hara Meditation in An Emergency. Heard it on Madmen the first time. Just brilliant.

                http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poet...s/detail/26538

                Reading this during my lunch! Thank you!

                Here is one that always puts a smile on my face....

                https://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/011.html “Girls, Look Out for Todd Bernstein” by Jason Bredle

                My first instinct was to post "In the Well" by someone with the last name that begins with A, I think - but I don't want people to think I'm a total depressive... I mean really, who doesn't like zombies?

                Comment


                  #9
                  This poet was in my class at art college (1967/68) . . .

                  Comment


                    #10
                    I LOVE poetry, but not the childish nonsensical rhymes. My favorite poetess is Sylvia Plath! I used to write when I was younger but being a mother and life kinda took me away. In High School I had won school and district contests and even at one time received an award from some National Poetry thing lol.

                    I wrote this around 1995.

                    Alternate Perception

                    Like the melting wax of a candle,
                    Molding into the tears of fire.
                    Ravaged by the inner beast
                    and cast into its openness,
                    Seeking shelter from the storm.

                    Does the light still shine outside,
                    Is this dimness only in her heart?
                    Fighting water with fire,
                    Enthralled by the paradoxical lies,
                    And withering in the blizzard that
                    erupts from
                    the dungeons of hell.

                    Searching for a golden dream that is
                    out of
                    dimensional possibilities,
                    And beyond the masochism in sadism.

                    Opression slivers its way into the
                    purity of your crimson blood.
                    She is you,
                    Yet you are she.

                    All open doors are blocked by glass,
                    mirrors that reflect upon the sorrows
                    of fear.

                    Living and drinking pain,
                    Playing as children in a phantom playground.

                    What seems to be is but a lie,
                    Truth lives on in nothing,
                    Hiding in the cracks of Satan's skin.

                    Blinded by a glare of revolution and
                    cut loose from the chains of mind's eye,
                    Liberation crumbles down the walls of sanity.

                    Words are nothing but misconceptions,
                    Baffling logic in all means.
                    Yesterday is gone,
                    Tomorrow never will be,
                    Everything stands still in the palm of a hand,
                    Like a music box that lost its wind....

                    The tune has vanished from the mind,
                    With the words inaudible sounds in our mute hearts.
                    Pain encompasses perception,
                    Clouding reality and truth.

                    Lying on a cold stone ground,
                    She says goodbye,
                    And as death herself,
                    She hides in rapture...
                    As the souls of all are captured in contempt.


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