which wouldn't go through there;
my take, not agreeing or disagreeing, how can i do that with anothers pov, i can only put my own pov forward.;
i think once a person (we're not all poets contrary to popular belief) put something to paper, lets call it a poem; it stops being his/her poem (as in what they intended to say)and begins a life of its own (if it's published or put up for public view and response) we all, or many of us will read it differently than others, take different things from it than other. in this respect i think the opening posters pov is the same as mine; poems can rarely be linear creatures, they are imbued with multiple levels and facets as soon as the leave the pens birth canal, (metaphorically speaking).
i think often many people think it's good or decent poetry because they know no better, they haven't actually sampled enough decent or good poetry to actually know what good or decent poetry is. the same wit art. of course we can look at a poem and say, mmm 'great art' sadly it's often only great art to us because at that point in time its as good as we have seen and therefore can't compare it,
an example:
I was always under the impression i didn't like bukowski, i read a few of his poems and thought them at best to be mediocre. unfortunately it was his mediocre poems i'd read. recently i've been breaking copyright laws and loading his poems onto my site, (he died in 1994 btw, i do realise that 97.3 percent of those here wouldn't know that (and it makes me hard) while doing such an illegal thing i realised that this guy can really write good poems and that the few i'd read weren't a true representation of his work.
his work by the way is pretty straight forward narrative and very in your face. at first that's what i thought but after a few more reads i saw that often his poetry was an attack on society, death, the gov, or lots of other things.
they poems were his slice of life and how it affected him,
the layers came because when i read it i added my life and it's slice into the context of his works. i'm sure bukowski wouldn't begrudge me my take on his poetry. in fact he'd be damned angry if i'd just read it as a simple remark at the times of his life. no, his poetry, like all poetry gains life when put out there. a good poem gains something more than a pat on the back in a poetry forum it doesn't need it dick licking while it bends over in order to take it up the ass.
good poetry screams at us, it kicks us in the balls and says, read me again, i dare. and when we do read good poetry again we see something knew and fresh. this happens everytime we read it afresh. wtf how can that be, i read this poem a hundred times and still i get another take, emotion, insight from it.
this one is one of my faves that came from him;
The History Of One Tough Motherfucker by Charles Bukowski
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance...give him these pills...his backbone
is crushed, but is was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off..."
I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter box
crawled over and in,
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough
one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.
"you can make it," I said to him.
he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested,
then got up.
you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left...
and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look
at this!"
but they don't understand, they say something like,"you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"
"no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"
I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows...
it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-
graphed together.
he too knows it's bullshit but that somehow it all helps.
the poem is about more than a cat for me. it's about life, strength oppression and a lot more, every time i read it i love it a little more, it's by far not his best poem but i love it. most who read it will take something different from it than i did or that bukowski intended. he's done a couple of poems about writing that gives good insight. (for some)
if i leave a response to a poem i'm not all that interested in what the poet said or tried to imply. i've already reached my pov and for them to tell me what they meant or tried to say is pretty much irrelevant. on occasion i'll ask what was meant because i wish some clarification as i cannot get a handle.
all i need from the poet is a polite thanks or for them to simply ignore my feedback. they can use any such feedback as they see fit. recently i didn't understand a poem but really liked it, and told my take on it. the poet smiled and said thanks. (i appreciated the fact that they allowed me my take without jumping up and shouting "you fucking idiot, this is what i meant"
the english language is full of ambiguity and for me it's the ambiguity that lends beauty to the craft.
poetry for me shouldn't provide answers, and seldom dos so unless you want to call an insight an answer, for me poetry provides slices of experience, (be they imaginary or real) often the slice is shit and full of cliché, cutting and intangibles that everyone else fawns over.
once i write a poem it's no longer mine apart from having the need and ability to edit it should someone point out how i can improve it for me. once the edit is done it's back out there and has to stand on it's own without explanation.
i find some esoterica enough as it stands, as well as some doggerel stuff, aka carroll. though it has to be good. if it's bad the fact it's doggerel or esoterica simply compounds the fact.
poetry is mainly for enjoyment, (the reading of) not sure the writing of it is always and solely done for the purpose of enjoyment. i'm sure the dragging of poem from the pen is absolute torture for many.
it's extremely hard to disagree that blind acceptance is killing poetry, i think art as in paint actually grows a little from blind acceptance.
poetry on the other hand becomes stale and falls back for anyone who feels a pat on the back helps a poet expand his craft, we need to be told why it's good, why it,s bad and why it's cliché and pathetic. though the latter should be done with kindness.
ooh , fuck..i got carried away didn't i [frown]
EDIT -- This is the original text to which Billy was responding:
my take, not agreeing or disagreeing, how can i do that with anothers pov, i can only put my own pov forward.;
i think once a person (we're not all poets contrary to popular belief) put something to paper, lets call it a poem; it stops being his/her poem (as in what they intended to say)and begins a life of its own (if it's published or put up for public view and response) we all, or many of us will read it differently than others, take different things from it than other. in this respect i think the opening posters pov is the same as mine; poems can rarely be linear creatures, they are imbued with multiple levels and facets as soon as the leave the pens birth canal, (metaphorically speaking).
i think often many people think it's good or decent poetry because they know no better, they haven't actually sampled enough decent or good poetry to actually know what good or decent poetry is. the same wit art. of course we can look at a poem and say, mmm 'great art' sadly it's often only great art to us because at that point in time its as good as we have seen and therefore can't compare it,
an example:
I was always under the impression i didn't like bukowski, i read a few of his poems and thought them at best to be mediocre. unfortunately it was his mediocre poems i'd read. recently i've been breaking copyright laws and loading his poems onto my site, (he died in 1994 btw, i do realise that 97.3 percent of those here wouldn't know that (and it makes me hard) while doing such an illegal thing i realised that this guy can really write good poems and that the few i'd read weren't a true representation of his work.
his work by the way is pretty straight forward narrative and very in your face. at first that's what i thought but after a few more reads i saw that often his poetry was an attack on society, death, the gov, or lots of other things.
they poems were his slice of life and how it affected him,
the layers came because when i read it i added my life and it's slice into the context of his works. i'm sure bukowski wouldn't begrudge me my take on his poetry. in fact he'd be damned angry if i'd just read it as a simple remark at the times of his life. no, his poetry, like all poetry gains life when put out there. a good poem gains something more than a pat on the back in a poetry forum it doesn't need it dick licking while it bends over in order to take it up the ass.
good poetry screams at us, it kicks us in the balls and says, read me again, i dare. and when we do read good poetry again we see something knew and fresh. this happens everytime we read it afresh. wtf how can that be, i read this poem a hundred times and still i get another take, emotion, insight from it.
this one is one of my faves that came from him;
The History Of One Tough Motherfucker by Charles Bukowski
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance...give him these pills...his backbone
is crushed, but is was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off..."
I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter box
crawled over and in,
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough
one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.
"you can make it," I said to him.
he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested,
then got up.
you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left...
and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look
at this!"
but they don't understand, they say something like,"you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"
"no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"
I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows...
it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-
graphed together.
he too knows it's bullshit but that somehow it all helps.
the poem is about more than a cat for me. it's about life, strength oppression and a lot more, every time i read it i love it a little more, it's by far not his best poem but i love it. most who read it will take something different from it than i did or that bukowski intended. he's done a couple of poems about writing that gives good insight. (for some)
if i leave a response to a poem i'm not all that interested in what the poet said or tried to imply. i've already reached my pov and for them to tell me what they meant or tried to say is pretty much irrelevant. on occasion i'll ask what was meant because i wish some clarification as i cannot get a handle.
all i need from the poet is a polite thanks or for them to simply ignore my feedback. they can use any such feedback as they see fit. recently i didn't understand a poem but really liked it, and told my take on it. the poet smiled and said thanks. (i appreciated the fact that they allowed me my take without jumping up and shouting "you fucking idiot, this is what i meant"
the english language is full of ambiguity and for me it's the ambiguity that lends beauty to the craft.
poetry for me shouldn't provide answers, and seldom dos so unless you want to call an insight an answer, for me poetry provides slices of experience, (be they imaginary or real) often the slice is shit and full of cliché, cutting and intangibles that everyone else fawns over.
once i write a poem it's no longer mine apart from having the need and ability to edit it should someone point out how i can improve it for me. once the edit is done it's back out there and has to stand on it's own without explanation.
i find some esoterica enough as it stands, as well as some doggerel stuff, aka carroll. though it has to be good. if it's bad the fact it's doggerel or esoterica simply compounds the fact.
poetry is mainly for enjoyment, (the reading of) not sure the writing of it is always and solely done for the purpose of enjoyment. i'm sure the dragging of poem from the pen is absolute torture for many.
it's extremely hard to disagree that blind acceptance is killing poetry, i think art as in paint actually grows a little from blind acceptance.
poetry on the other hand becomes stale and falls back for anyone who feels a pat on the back helps a poet expand his craft, we need to be told why it's good, why it,s bad and why it's cliché and pathetic. though the latter should be done with kindness.
ooh , fuck..i got carried away didn't i [frown]
EDIT -- This is the original text to which Billy was responding:
Quote:Soren Kierkegaard said “Once you label me, you negate me”, and I believe this to be true for poetry as well. A good poem (and I’m well aware that there are many bad ones out there, I’ve written plenty myself) does not have one single, linear and easily explained meaning. For a poet to say, “this line means x” precludes any authorship of meaning for the reader and also assumes that the reader is incapable of fathoming meaning from words him/herself. This may be fine for readers who come wanting a poem. It’s insufficient for those who want poetry.
Poetry should not provide answers, but questions. Poets do not have answers. Poets are not judge or jury, but plaintiffs begging for a case to be heard. For a writer to assume that he/she is more enlightened than the reader is arrogant and – for the most part – a little bit stupid.
As a writer of poems, I may have intent when those thoughts roll off my pen – obviously I am thinking something. Once it’s written, though, my authorship is done. Each time I revisit the poem it’s as a reader. The best poems I’ve ever read give me an opportunity to focus on a different thought each time; the text becomes fluid the moment it engages with the reader’s mind.
However, it’s clearly not enough for a poet to write something obscure and esoteric, then say to the reader “well, you figure it out, that’s your job”. There should be a balance – and there has to be a key, something to allow the reader to unlock at least the first part of the meaning (or a meaning), even if it’s not leading to an actual thought process but rather to a given mood or ethos.
Finally, I believe that poetry is about enjoyment before all else. If you don’t know what it means, but you like the way it sounds or it reaches you in some way – does it really matter?