What is it...

[rayheinrich]

My wife would feed me to the cats and dog.

In lieu of muddlelessness, I offer this comment:


  < like a fish in an aquarium >

     the meaning of a word
     is not inside it
      
     neither
     is the meaning of this poem
      
     you're reading it
     right now
     from the outside
      
     i'd like to think
     i wrote it
     from in here
      
     but i was
     where you are right now
      
     so this poem is
     (though i wish it weren't)
     like a fish in an aquarium
      
           - - - 

[Leanne]

Indeed, words and poems are just like fish in an aquarium, doomed to swim around forever in their own excrement until we remember to feed them and clean things out a bit

I am uncomfortable being looked at, so I offer my words as visual sacrifice.

[billy]

Leanne and todd mentioned quantifying beauty. s the opening poster i'll change beauty "the wow factor" or something similar, to that thing that makes us sit up and drool or cry or laugh, that thing that emotes us.

as an admin and thread policeman, i have no problem with a poem being used in discussion, all i'd like as a non thread police is that the pint it's trying to show is clearly mentioned. and as a thread policeperson i'm okay with it going slightly off topic. just as long as someone brings it back on course.

back on topic, the wow factor. i can get the fish thing i've seen giant rays and sharks behind glass but for me that as an example is the opposite of the wow factor. the wow factor for me isn't or should i say, has little to with it being encapsulated. it an outside experience (which i know is what you said) yet often the fish tank often shows the wow factor for years and years.

[rayheinrich]

Beauty put to good use:


ROMEO:
   O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
   It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
   Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;
   Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!

[billy]

i find it to sloppy. but it does prove your point that it's the person on the outside who see whatever beauty/wow there is to see.

don't get me wrong, his plays were great and so was some of his poetry but most of it doesn't make my mind miss a beat of my heart think.

[rayheinrich]

i find it to sloppy. but it does prove your point that it's the person on the outside who see whatever beauty/wow there is to see.

don't get me wrong, his plays were great and so was some of his poetry but most of it doesn't make my mind miss a beat of my heart think.

The Shakespeare quote is a comment on this topic. Expressing your
own opinions (no matter how benighted) on Shakespeare, while ok by
topic-challenged me, is probably a bit off-topic. (And don't blame
Shakespeare, she/he's dead; it's those dreadful people that beat
you over the head with him/her that you should be blaming.)

And on another off-topic: Ever get the idea that poetry sites tend to
encourage a rather limited definition of their own product? Like it should
only be going on about touchy-feely stuff like beauty and rotten dogs?

[abu nuwas]

Leanne and todd mentioned quantifying beauty. s the opening poster i'll change beauty "the wow factor" or something similar, to that thing that makes us sit up and drool or cry or laugh, that thing that emotes us.

as an admin and thread policeman, i have no problem with a poem being used in discussion, all i'd like as a non thread police is that the pint it's trying to show is clearly mentioned. and as a thread policeperson i'm okay with it going slightly off topic. just as long as someone brings it back on course.

back on topic, the wow factor. i can get the fish thing i've seen giant rays and sharks behind glass but for me that as an example is the opposite of the wow factor. the wow factor for me isn't or should i say, has little to with it being encapsulated. it an outside experience (which i know is what you said) yet often the fish tank often shows the wow factor for years and years.

Billy, you dork! A pint, when Leanne already has the excuse of sipping a wee dram 'there's too much water in it already' because of Burns month! You risk depriving children of a mother, and the site of a valued meber---- if she is not completely out of it already...She is very suggestive, you know.....

[Leanne]

And on another off-topic: Ever get the idea that poetry sites tend to
encourage a rather limited definition of their own product? Like it should
only be going on about touchy-feely stuff like beauty and rotten dogs?

[/size][/font]

You may feel compelled to touchy-feel a rotten dog, but not I... not today at any rate, I've just been out in the rain for my annual shower. (We're flooded in today, it's wonderful fun)

I'd say that every poetry site has members who are more comfortable with a traditional definition of poetry (if such a thing exists, and I -- because I'm perverse for a living -- don't subscribe to it), simply because there are more people in the world who accept things they "cannot" change than those who are driven to subvert/redefine/permanently alter with pickles on top. There's nothing particularly wrong with that, since a world in constant upheaval would be a most difficult place in which to park your car, and without tradition we become somewhat rudderless. HOWEVER, and this is a biggie, there's a difference between maintaining traditions and complete stagnation. It's slightly frightening to me that a great many people will dismiss an idea or technique simply because it's new (and there's a good chance it's not entirely new anyway, since almost everything we do is just a modification of something much older). Not everyone will like every change, but then not everyone likes every tradition either. Horses for courses and all that

I'm not sure I make any sense today. It's very wet outside.

---

A pint of malt, now there's an idea... are you sure you meant "suggestive", Edward?

[abu nuwas]

And on another off-topic: Ever get the idea that poetry sites tend to
encourage a rather limited definition of their own product? Like it should
only be going on about touchy-feely stuff like beauty and rotten dogs?

[/size][/font]

You may feel compelled to touchy-feel a rotten dog, but not I... not today at any rate, I've just been out in the rain for my annual shower. (We're flooded in today, it's wonderful fun)

I'd say that every poetry site has members who are more comfortable with a traditional definition of poetry (if such a thing exists, and I -- because I'm perverse for a living -- don't subscribe to it), simply because there are more people in the world who accept things they "cannot" change than those who are driven to subvert/redefine/permanently alter with pickles on top. There's nothing particularly wrong with that, since a world in constant upheaval would be a most difficult place in which to park your car, and without tradition we become somewhat rudderless. HOWEVER, and this is a biggie, there's a difference between maintaining traditions and complete stagnation. It's slightly frightening to me that a great many people will dismiss an idea or technique simply because it's new (and there's a good chance it's not entirely new anyway, since almost everything we do is just a modification of something much older). Not everyone will like very change, but then not everyone likes every tradition either. Horses for courses and all that

I'm not sure I make any sense today. It's very wet outside.

---

A pint of malt, now there's an idea... are you sure you meant "suggestive", Edward?

No, Leanne, you make even less sense than did Ray. But I am sure that after you have imbibed your pint, and then dis-imbibed it plus much else, all over the dining-room floor, it will make immense sense, and provide you with a sequel to 'Les Fleurs du Mal', if you examine it closely enough. People will rightly call you the 'Bush Baudelaire'.

I have no idea whether you are suggestive, and should not say id I did. I of course meant 'suggestible' -- a simple lapsus plumae-- but yes, I was wrong, wrong, wrong.

[Leanne]

Well, that'll teach you not to have your plums out on your lap. No imbibing going on here today, sadly, I can't get out of the driveway to make my way to the bottle shop

On Charlie B -- I have every intention of being called "an insult to public decency" by as many poetical fascists as possible. I see absolutely no reason why a sonnet should be used exclusively as a vehicle of romantic gushiness, though it has been strongly suggested to me on more than one occasion (by the ignorant, who have since been severely educated) that this is absolutely the case. Similarly, I see no reason why an unpleasant or even crass (perish the thought!) subject should be treated in a less than elegant fashion. The bum crack is as important (if not moreso) to a woman as her twinkling starlike eyes or queenly ankles.

I like my sacred cows medium rare.

[billy]

women have bumcracks!!!

sorry to hear you're watered in. at least you'll be semi sobre hehe.
no pints for of anything cept water and maybe some juice. (still laughy at edward, if i may call him such)

as long as i think something works irrespective of if i like it i'll like it, i won't love it but i'll see how others could.
i've read some cleave poetry that amazed me but in general i found it to be a bit gimmicky. i do think the wow factor can be found in all genres of poetry including the far out ones.

[rayheinrich]

Leanne: "... new (and there's a good chance it's not entirely
new anyway, since almost everything we do is just a modification
of something much older)

Since there's nothing new under the sun* except for Apple products
and useless kitchen gadgets (all IS vanity), I thank the gods each
day for our poor memories. Nothing makes ponderous piles of fascinating
NEWNESS faster than forgetting. (Or confirms, to our mars-like egos,
that we are truly the very soul of innovation.)


*Is there anything of which one can say, “Look! This is something new”?
It was here already, long ago; it was here before our time.
No one remembers the former generations, and even those yet to come
will not be remembered by those who follow them.
Ecclesiastes 1:10-11


Leanne: "(by the ignorant, who have since been severely educated)"

It's a calling! I'm assuming you hold a degree in "Severe Education".
(Let me guess... it's a third degree, isn't it?)


Leanne: "I see no reason why an unpleasant or even crass ... subject
should be treated in a less than elegant fashion. The bum crack is as
important (if not moreso) to a woman as her twinkling starlike eyes
or queenly ankles."

The devil (as well as a few of those gods) is surely in that de-tail.


abu nuwas: "I have no idea whether you are suggestive, and should not
say id I did. I of course meant 'suggestible'..."

It's a writer's job to be suggestive.


billy said: "... wow factor ..."

Useful in selling cars as well.
Or just selling: http://www.videojug.com/film/how-to-sell

[Leanne]

See, when you say "Apple products", I think "useless kitchen gadgets anyway" -- because I'm a Luddite to the core

I often wonder though, since there's nothing new under the sun, are all the new things above it? How would we get there to find out? I must consult my Hitchhiker's Guide forthwith.

Billy, cleave poetry can indeed by quite clever and I respect those who write it, but from a personal point of view I find it gimmicky. Same goes for concrete poetry, though I've seen some I definitely like. And many Dada pieces would barely be considered poems by the standards of most readers these days, but I generally consider them at least poetic if not recognisably poems, simply because they are a challenge.

I like a challenge, but I don't enjoy a slap.

[billy]

i did a cleave poem once though i don't know where i placed it, they also do triple cleaves in which there are 4 poems in one. sadly the ones i read were as forced as a constipated piece of brown stuff. i know i'm one of only a few but i like poetry to be poetry hehe.

the same as i like art to be art. two halves of a cow in formaldehyde to me is not art. a pink painted house is not art (to me and neither is a mountain covered in chippy paper. that said te mountain did have the wow factor

[rayheinrich]

.
"two halves of a cow in formaldehyde to me is not art.
a pink painted house is not art."


< two halves of a pink painted cow housed in formaldehyde >

      across the street
      an old man is building a castle
      of concrete and cinderblock
      (and most anything else)
      
      the plastic mannequins in the windows
      gaze at fiberglass horses 
      who graze on gravel pastures
       
      at night 
      (when the Smiths, and the Davidsons can't see us)
      we leave things in his yard  
      and sometimes 
      he adds them to his castle
      
      my dad's old fan 
      is a windmill
      a broken mirror
      makes the walls spark with sun
      our rusted washtub
      is now a pond for plastic ducks
       
      across the street
      an old man is building a castle
      
                - - -



And yes, the sun's position is still evolving. Here's an older
form of cleave poetry where the cleaver is horizontal.
You read the first eight lines first, then you read the
second six lines second:



When most I wink then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unrespected,
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
Then thou whose shadow shadows doth make bright
How would thy shadow's form, form happy show,
To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!
How would (I say) mine eyes be blessed made,
By looking on thee in the living day,
When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade,
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
All days are nights to see till I see thee,
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.


Much of E.E. Cummings work was committed in cleave form.
Only he (ever the innovator), left the cleaving (as the gods
intended, IMHO) up to the reader:



buy me an ounce and i'll sell you a pound.
Turn
gert
(spin!
helen)the
slimmer the finger the thicker the thumb(it's
whirl,
girls)
round and round

early to better is wiser for worse.
Give
liz
(take!
tommy)we
order a steak and they send us a pie(it's
try,
boys)
mine is yours

ask me the name of the moon in the man.
Up
sam
(down!
alice)a
hole in the ocean will never be missed(it's
in,
girls)
yours is mine

either was deafer than neither was dumb.
Skip
fred
(jump!
neddy)but
under the wonder is over the why(it's
now,
boys)
here we come

[billy]

i enjoy separating them
i also enjoy milk.
i don't find it's something that enthrals
me, i can drink water just as easily

for me they have little if any wow factor and e e cummings even less.

[Leanne]

The notion of "cleaving" should probably imbue most poetry -- at least, that which I like the best has at least two separate things going on. It's just that when it becomes more of a sledgehammering "decipher my poem or you're not as clever as I am", I tend to shrug and wander off. I'm sure I've mentioned before that I don't like things that box themselves in and the reader with them, no matter how spectacularly clever the box.

[rayheinrich]

"no matter how spectacularly clever the box"

OK, I'm just guessing here, but I bet you don't consider sonnets to
possess box-like shapes...

[Leanne]

I don't mind something being presented in a box, but you must be able to open the lid and stick your hand in to stir up the contents a bit... at your own risk, of course...

[billy]

cleave sometimes are less decipherable than dan browns stories.