What style is this?

[Weeded]

So I was looking around the internet for stuff, and I came across an article on contemporary poets. I started reading some and I thought this guy Rickey Laurentiis was pretty cool but it's almost like he uses his own language(which I like), but heres a piece

I Saw I Dreamt Two Men

I saw I dreamt

Two men hoisted hung up not American the rope
Not closed on their breathing

But this rope tied them spine to spine somehow


---
I read this at first and the first line almost seemed like the first thing I learned here(don't use words you don't need). Line two also makes sense to me, but barely. Is there some sort of metaphor here im missing or something? Heres the link if y'all are interested.

[Leanne]

There is a deliberate tautology, or almost-tautology, that is not a wasting of words but rather it draws attention to the differences between them. The difference between imagining something and seeing it in reality is larger than many people will believe, especially when it's the difference between watching someone killed on a Youtube video and actually seeing someone's life end before your eyes. In this, I find a hint of the good old Wild West-style lynching but instead of the expected justice, what it does is galvanise two "criminals" into unified action. The metaphor is strong and there's not a word wasted here.

I am very proud of Rickey. I remember publishing a poem of his way back in 2008, knowing that he'd be one to watch -- and I'm incredibly happy to see that he's had the determination to live up to his talent and promise.

The poem we chose back then was called "Today", for those who are interested:

TODAY
I have made the decision: to pronounce ululation differently than I was
taught while I seep into the wood of this funeral pew and follow
the deep lines buried within your forehead; here,
as passersby paint the edges of their eyes with tears and I have no more
words for them but the chaw of a tongue against my teeth and they
apologize to me as if their hands were being nailed to the two daggers
crossed under their chins and I were Roman; here,
as the cool comfort of organs presses through the air lining our lips, you
break past our wail and carry on; or to sleep, dream
into the even copper of your cheek, to see you eagle
across the skin of the Tallahatchie, telling: Mamma, Mamma, this is
no dream.

(Shakespeare's Monkey Revue, Vol. 1 Issue 3, April 2008)

[RiverNotch]

Sorry about the slight threadjack, but since we are discussing those poems specifically:

I read both poems. Leanne, yer note was especially helpful, although it did get it independently of it rather easily after about four lines Weeded's point (that is, "Without a license a right to touch /The sin their touching incites"; the lynch justice is there very clearly throughout (and I hope my rightness in reading their sin as specifically homosexuality), but the whole racial thing didn't really affect me, not even unto the last line -- I know that's my culture speaking, my country never having experienced that specific sort of civil war), but I do think I might eventually have to copy your note on the importance (and oh, what vividness!) of "I saw I dreamt". And, only because (and even with the somewhat detracting reference to the river) of its more, er, universal (or at least less social) theme, I much prefer "Today" -- and because of all this, I might just binge through this guy's stuff later. Might. I might forget -- I think I'm still a bit tipsy from (haha!) real alcohol.

Okay, actual answer, but brief: a bit confused about the question. What do you mean by the title? Are you asking about the poem's specific style (which could be given a thousand different names, depending on your parameters -- or maybe not, but that's one thing I got reading about literary criticism), or merely an interpretation (of the part specifically, of the poem as a whole) and how it all, er, works (which, I guess is its "style", though it's both more ("style" being typically equal to, say, "genre" or "set of grammar rules" or "main forceful bit" or something) and less (being too specific, as it is, er, interpretation of how the parts work, and not necessarily of how the parts, well, are, in terms of what they're saying, and in the bigger picture (the author's life, the poem's circumstances, whether Shakespeare is alive or not, etc) what they, er, are), which should have been answered enough by Leanne for you to get into the thing? Catch my drift?

But, yeah, my answer, well, I'll just say Contemporary, and not bother defining what I mean by that. xP

Also, this is not brief at all, at least not for me. Lol.

[Leanne]

Happy to go with "contemporary" as the style -- I don't think we need to be labelling everything and boxing poetry into categories.

[Weeded]

What I mean is this guy definitely isn't like Ted Kooser, and isn't he defined as contemporary too? The problem I'm finding is looking for poets similar to this, if I type contemporary poets in google there's a huge range under the definition. That's why I asked if this guy had a specific style, but good points! I actually found the closest applicable genre to reference him to by researching him more, its Southern Gothic.

[Leanne]

aaargh, I hate the idea of looking for "similar styles"... to me, that just means that they've derived their ideas from the same kinds of sources and haven't developed in their own directions yet. I'm good with "similar themes" though, and maybe a "similar feel". You might enjoy Carol Ann Duffy, or Yehuda Amichai, or John McAuliffe, or Les Murray... all contemporary, all very different but all with a passionate belief in human rights.

[billy]

would you only ever listen to one type of music, i love some of the period soul and it did have a certain style depending whether it was the mowtown, philli, stax or Atlantic label. same with rock etc. and within each label the artist had their own style. altogether it was contemporary for the soul, r&. genre when i search using google i'll type in soul music and suffix it with a date. from the results i'll pick a piece out, often found music i hadn't heard that i like. while certain people have certain styles i think style is too broad a term if you're really searching for a certain style. go for a genre and then see the different styles. sometimes it's better to just read everything you come across and enjoy the parts of it you enjoy. most of the poets and poetry i've put up on the site didn't exist to me before i found them, maybe a few famous ones but in general each one was a piece of candy wrapped ina not distinct wrapper, the real taste only showed itself when i had good old fashion lick of it.

[ellajam]

Yep, it's a great time to live in, the world and history of the world in our living rooms. Hear a song you like and watch five performances of it, not have to depend on the librarians' choice of poetry and be able to just wind our way to something we love. And when I trip on what I don't know I can learn something about it. And when a kid asks about an octopus we can pull up pics and info, much more fun than just saying, Yeah, 8 legs. Life, as ever, is a blast.

[milo]

I do like to understand what style certain poems are. It helps me find more I like and fewer that I don't.

[Leanne]

There are styles of readers just as there are styles of writers

Some find a trail and hunt along it singlemindedly, determined to miss nothing.  Others just kind of wander along, sampling everything until they find a pile of something that catches their interest and then they roll around in it until it covers them.

[rayheinrich]

There are styles of readers just as there are styles of writers

Some find a trail and hunt along it singlemindedly, determined to miss nothing.  Others just kind of wander along, sampling everything until they find a pile of something that catches their interest and then they roll around in it until it covers them.

In the olden days I wandered among used book stores in the pursuit of piles to roll in.
My Comstock Lode came from a bookstore called "Silverfish*"

The first time I looked there I found one tiny shelf of poetry -- only hard-bound classics.
I asked the owner if there was any "contemporary" stuff and he said he threw it away
because he knew it wouldn't sell. I offered him $5 a box if he'd save it for me and he did.


*Consummate readers:
   
    Silverfish food for thought.

"Before silverfish reproduce they carry out a ritual involving three phases, which may last over half an hour.
In the first phase, the male and female stand face to face, their trembling antennae touching, then repeatedly
back off and return to this position. In the second phase the male runs away and the female chases him.
In the third phase the male and female stand side by side and head-to-tail, with the male vibrating his tail
against the female. Finally the male lays a spermatophore, a sperm capsule covered in gossamer, which
the female takes into her body via her ovipositor to fertilise her eggs." - from Wiki Silverfish

[Erthona]

Style, at least in terms of form, which is really what we are talking about, should be used to best purpose to fit the form. To write in the same "style" all of the time only shows the limitations of the poet. This is different from a person's unique style, which is something that develops over years, if the person has talent to begin with. Ginsberg wrote primary in formal verse  for many years before he began writing beat poetry. People seem to think it is easy to write in that "style", but they are really missing about 90% of what is actually going on. This is the same with many readers, they read only the superficial level of the poem (of course many poems only have a superficial level).

Anyway, this poem in interesting as it gives false impressions when first read.

"I saw I dreamt
Two men hoisted hung up not American the rope
Not closed on their breathing
But this rope tied them spine to spine somehow"

Notice: "Not closed on their breathing"

He uses a line that is negative in nature to initially give the impression that they are being hung by the neck, someone mentioned the Old West. I too am guilty of reading it that way the first time through. Yet, it says the opposite, the rope was "not closed on their breathing" in other words they were not being hung by the neck. Instead they were tied back to back ("spine to spine") and hoisted up. Notice however the clever use of the inserted word "hung" in between "hoisted' and "up" giving the false impression that they were being hanged.

(Also if one breaks the part line out "hung up not American" it could be read, they were not American , but were hung up, like Americans are "hung up" to use the vernacular. Of course pulling things out of it like this causes one to ponder what is real and what is imaginary. It is one of the failings of this type of ambiguous poem, so many things can be pulled out of it, very quickly contradictions emerge and one wonders if it is not all just a bunch of rubbish.) 

Then there is the interjection of "American" but the negative once again " not American the rope". However now the idea of "American" is in the mind of the reader, just as "hang" is in the mind of the reader.

So neither were these two men hung (hoisted yes), nor did America have anything to do with it, even to the supplying of the rope as far as the reader knows .

For me it is an excellent analysis of bias on the part of the reader. It also points outs out how much impact a single word can have on the reader (unconsciously) in terms of the over effect of a poem. As we are always saying, words are at a premium, which means use them judiciously and correctly, don't go making up your own meaning for them.

I did not address the first line because there is no clear cut way to choose between the two. Did the speaker "dream", or did he "see" (or did he see in a dream?), I'll flip the coin and go with dream, just for arguments sake? So with that in mind, let us strip away the subterfuge and see what we have. This is by by no means to demean the poem, but to point out it's cleverness.

"I dreamt (of)
Two men hoisted up (by a) rope
tied spine to spine"

Yes, a very clever poem.

However Leanne, I'm afraid the only tautology I see is the tautness of the rope.

Oh yes, I forgot the basic question, "What style is this". Well for that you need to enroll in the university where it is their job to pigeonhole all sorts of things like this. Although if I were doing so, I would classify it as Negative Post Beat Modern poem, although I don't that will help you in your search

Very Beatnik though (finger snaps all around)

dale

[Weeded]

Yep, it's a great time to live in, the world and history of the world in our living rooms. Hear a song you like and watch five performances of it, not have to depend on the librarians' choice of poetry and be able to just wind our way to something we love. And when I trip on what I don't know I can learn something about it. And when a kid asks about an octopus we can pull up pics and info, much more fun than just saying, Yeah, 8 legs. Life, as ever, is a blast.

Or share thoughts with people on opposite sides of the planet its amazing really. A bit overwhelming for a guy like me, guess thats why I ask questions like these

---

Erthona you basically answered everything I was wondering about this poem too by the way haha. Funny I read the 'not closed' line and took it as it was meant for once. The rest was just one great big mindfuck however, hehe.
I googled 'negative post beat poetry,' an all that came up was Beatnik(still new to me though), so I guess im on Beatnik now 

[rayheinrich]

I like to read, try to craft them myself, poems with multiple, sometimes contradictory, meanings;
ones that create cognitive dissonance. There is a certain emotional level, as well as intellectual,
that is hard to achieve in any other way. But you do limit your audience when you do this as many
people don't like this type of poem. (This "type" of poem can be written in any "style".)


I Saw I Dreamt Two Men - Rickey Laurentiis

I saw I dreamt

Two men hoisted hung up not American the rope
Not closed on their breathing

But this rope tied them spine to spine somehow


This poem didn't seem that much like one of those poems to me; maybe because I formed my opinion
too quickly. I thought it was about racism and that the two men were of different races.

One possible explication:

"I saw" - I realized , I came to a conclusion.
"I dreamt" - the vision that inspired the thoughts necessary realize

The rope is racism

"not American the rope" - racism is universal it's not confined to America, intrinsic to America or it's
not what America should stand for.

"Not closed on their breathing" - it's still possible to overcome it.

"But this rope tied them spine to spine" - racism doesn't imprison just one side, it imprisons both.
(Or maybe it's just a single man tied up and racism deludes us into thinking there are two.)

"somehow" - how has racism, an abstract, an illusion, managed to do this?

[Erthona]

This is one of the problems I have with this kind of poetry, not this "style". The ambiguity level is so high there can be many interpretations. It is the lack of anything definite that keeps it a mystery and that fascinates people, causing them to mistake fascination with good poetry (I can hear milo screaming already). It is the same with Shakespeare's sonnets. They are basically run of the mill sonnets (his genius was in his plays), but many hundreds if not thousands of people have dedicated their lives to these things for the simple fact that they are intrigued by them. Who is the speaker, who is the speaker speaking to? Was Shakespeare gay, was it a young boy or an older woman? Does this make them good poems? No, it simply makes them fascinating.
Many people mistake this for poetry that is multi-leveled, or Blake's fourfold vision if you will. A poem having depth is different than a poem that simply engenders fascination. Of course 99.99999% of the public is untaught when it comes to poetry, or for that matter most of the other arts. One must be educated in order to appreciate what is being shown. Of course these days the same type of ignorance is endemic throughout our society, not just in the arts. The is a lack of appreciation for for people who have spent years learning a skill. "Oh I can do that, no need to pay that guy $$$, I saw how to do it on you tube." So it should come as no surprise that people cannot tell the difference between merely fascination and what is truly good poetry, and in fact prefer the first to the latter. Which is why the introduction to Blake's "Vala" or "The Four Zoas" (see below) will not be chosen as the UK national anthem so that something other than "God Save the Queen" can be played at football matches(If anyone has heard of the outcome please let me know, the chance is slim, but I can always hope).

Jerusalem

" And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
Bring me my spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire.

I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land."

Just in case anyone has ever wondered about these lines in "Tyger"

"When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee? "

It means that humankind had matured enough that the spirits of the stars no longer needed to goad humans into doing the right thing, for now they (humanity) had awakened and saw they should do what is right, simply because it is right. They wept because it was such an odious thing to have to punish them, just as it is painful when a loving parent must punish his/her child. So they weep with joy and throw "down their spears" because they will not have to use them ever again.
Or so that's what Catherine told me one night in a dream, as it's meaning had bother me for many years.

dale

[rayheinrich]

This is one of the problems I have with this kind of poetry, not this "style". The ambiguity level is so high there can be many interpretations.

For the record: I didn't think "I Saw I Dreamt Two Men" was "this kind of poetry".

It is the lack of anything definite that keeps it a mystery and that fascinates people, causing them to mistake fascination with good poetry (I can hear milo screaming already).

Add my screams as well.

It is the same with Shakespeare's sonnets.

More screams.

... Does this make them good poems? No, it simply makes them fascinating.
Many people mistake this for poetry that is multi-leveled, or Blake's fourfold vision if you will. A poem having depth is different than a poem that simply engenders fascination.

Yes, but you leave out poems having neither or both. False dichotomy dude.

Of course 99.99999% of the public is untaught when it comes to poetry, or for that matter most of the other arts. One must be educated in order to appreciate what is being shown. Of course these days the same type of ignorance is endemic throughout our society, not just in the arts. The is a lack of appreciation for people who have spent years learning a skill. "Oh I can do that, no need to pay that guy $$$, I saw how to do it on you tube." So it should come as no surprise that people cannot tell the difference between merely fascination and what is truly good poetry, and in fact prefer the first to the latter.

You're old, you're cynical, you're an elitist, and you're jealous and resentful
of those no-nothing piece-of-shit assholes who are getting paid good money to
re-spout the last brainless fungoid they read on twitter.

We're in hell, yes; but at least we got here without a handbasket.

Which is why the introduction to Blake's "Vala" or "The Four Zoas" (see below) will not be chosen as the UK national anthem so that something other than "God Save the Queen" can be played at football matches (If anyone has heard of the outcome please let me know, the chance is slim, but I can always hope).

Jerusalem

" And did those feet in ancient time
...
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land."

I refuse to be lured into any discussions involving Margaret Thatcher

Just in case anyone has ever wondered about these lines in "Tyger"

"When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee? "

It means that humankind had matured enough that the spirits of the stars no longer needed to goad humans into doing the right thing, for now they (humanity) had awakened and saw they should do what is right, simply because it is right. They wept because it was such an odious thing to have to punish them, just as it is painful when a loving parent must punish his/her child. So they weep with joy and throw "down their spears" because they will not have to use them ever again.
Or so that's what Catherine told me one night in a dream, as it's meaning had bother me for many years.
dale

This reminds me of a "discussion" I had about the Tyger poem.
I said that any intelligent designer who made sheep would make tigers to control
the sheep's population or, supposing the tiger was the object, would make sheep to
provide food for the tigers. I was then informed that "the Lamb" was Christ.
So, I said, you're saying that Blake's asking if Mary made tigers? Maybe Mary found
the manger a bit boring and thought a tiger might liven things up?

Which gets into communication requiring context and if you don't got it (say, knowledge of
the Bible), it don't happen. (Not to mention that "context" is always a plural.)

Ray

[Akira]

 A poem having depth is different than a poem that simply engenders fascination. 

...or the simple fact that they are intrigued by them. Who is the speaker, who is the speaker speaking to? 

" And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?

Yet I wonder, intrigued: Who is the speaker? Who is he speaking to?

 
The ambiguity level is so high there can be many interpretations. 

...

Just in case anyone has ever wondered about these lines in "Tyger"

"When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee? "

It means that humankind had matured enough that the spirits of the stars no longer needed to goad humans into doing the right thing, for now they (humanity) had awakened and saw they should do what is right, simply because it is right. They wept because it was such an odious thing to have to punish them, just as it is painful when a loving parent must punish his/her child. So they weep with joy and throw "down their spears" because they will not have to use them ever again.

"It means "

Stop there. I am sure you see the problem.


But what the hey, let's play: a straightforward reading of the poem would suggest something more akin to: the very stars themselves surrendering their weapons in despair before the brutal might of the fearsome creation, while the narrator questions and wonders that a creator who produced a creature of gentleness could produce an engine of such dire viciousness. Supported by most the rest of the poem, including passages like:

And what shoulder, & what art, 

Could twist the sinews of thy heart? 

And when thy heart began to beat, 

What dread hand? & what dread feet? 

Which does not scream to me of man emerging into the flower of ethics and morality.

Not to say you could not make an argument for what you wrote above, but to use that as an example of how good poetry has unambiguous, albeit layered, levels of meaning strikes me as somewhat... somewhat.

All of that said, I don't completely disagree with you.

There is an anthology movie called New York Stories done by Woody Allen, Scorsese & Coppola. The Scorsese segment has Nick Nolte playing a frustrated abstract artist a la Jackson Pollack. There is a scene (its been a long time) where he gets angry or emotionally wrought, cranks the tunes and breaks through his barriers, with the paint flying and snapping against the canvas. While it is a cool scene, I could only think of (forgive my, still two decades later, pathetically limited knowledge of classic and modern art) Michelangelo or Renoir, etc. Is the appeal just some weird emotional reaction... is there truly any meaning? I imagine elite-y soho-ites sipping champagne while stating

Well, the brilliance is the stripped blobs of green paint along the left side, speckled with black, representing the emergent environmental awakenings amongst the worker class of east asians experiencing growing disenfranchisement with the Communist regime.

It can be easy to forget it's a spectrum.

[Leanne]

I refuse to get involved in any discussion that authoritatively states: "it means".

I can live with "the meaning I get from this" or "what I have derived from this reading". I can also deal with "I think it means". And I can definitely live with poems that have many, many possible meanings with several shades of nuance as long as they're not utterly obscure with no way to unlock them except to impose meaning onto them. That's just lazy writing.

Good poets don't set out to deliberately write an open poem with myriad possible interpretations. Fortunately for those of us who love it, that's just what happens when a good poet sits down to write.

[Erthona]

Akira wrote: "Yet I wonder, intrigued: Who is the speaker? Who is he speaking to?"

Blake was speaking, as is noted in the introduction to the Songs of innocence, it was Blake's vision. Notice the last 2 stanza, this is where Blake is identified as the speaker of the "songs". The speaker is the writer of the songs.


Introduction to the Songs of Innocence
By William Blake

Piping down the valleys wild
Piping songs of pleasant glee
On a cloud I saw a child.
And he laughing said to me.

Pipe a song about a Lamb;
So I piped with merry chear,
Piper pipe that song again—
So I piped, he wept to hear.

Drop thy pipe thy happy pipe
Sing thy songs of happy chear,
So I sung the same again
While he wept with joy to hear

Piper sit thee down and write
In a book that all may read—
So he vanish'd from my sight.
And I pluck'd a hollow reed.

And I made a rural pen,
And I stain'd the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs
Every child may joy to hear.

The speaker changes in the different poems, "Los" as he hammers out the world  is often the speaker within the poem, but the speaker can change, it is often not just one speaker (I think even Fuzon got a few lines), especially in the longer works such as "Milton" and "The Four Zoas".

Oh yes, almost forgot. Who is he speaking to. Well the last line is quite specific, children and "if a man wishes to enter the kingdom of heaven he must become as a little child". So I guess that would include everyone and Blake was trying to save everyone by waking Albion, which is the equivalent of building Jerusalem (heaven) "in  England's green and pleasant land!"  

 
_______________________________________________________________________________

Ray,

I am not bitter or angry, I'm just stating facts. I don't blame people, I would rather watch the next "Avenger" movie than a great (or should that be grate) remake of "Death of a Salesman." Just because an education in art allows  for a more gradated worldview and often a higher degree of empathy, over a black and white mentality that objectifies others, that doesn't make it entertaining, although Sir Phillip Sidney would argue it should be both, although academia has tried its best to make it as boring as possible, which is what you get when you have men with no souls trying to teach the arts. But you disdain higher education (at least in the arts) as a shell game anyway, equivalent to basket weaving. So that leaves people to their own devices and we must trust in people like you Ray to show them the way, least they stumble and vote Republican 
_______________________________________________________________________________
Leanne,

"I refuse to get involved in any discussion that authoritatively states: "it means"."

Context is everything. If I had a dream, and in that dream Catherine Blake came and revealed to me the meaning of the poem, I feel that I am quite at liberty, within that context to say it means... I was also pointing out that Catherine (although William got the credit, was probably just as much a part of the creative process as he was, so who is to say whose hand penned the poem. Considering that all of maybe 25 copies of the songs were sold, it would have been complete suicide to put a woman's name to it so who knows. I do suggest they worked very close together and whatever William knew Catherine also knew. So if Catherine says, this is what the poem means, who am I to gainsay her. Interesting woman, she reminds me a bit of you, except she speaks proper English 


dale

[milo]

Reading the whole poem would probably clear a lot of this up:


I Saw I Dreamt Two Men
By Rickey Laurentiis
I saw I dreamt

Two men hoisted hung up not American the rope
Not closed on their breathing

But this rope tied them spine to spine somehow

Suspended
From the mood of a tree not American they were

African Ugandan Nigerian

Without a license a right to touch
The sin their touching incites

And I heard their names called out Revision

Or Die and You Must Repent
And Forget the Lie you Lily-Boys you Faggots

Called up from the mob

Of their mothers their fathers
With Christ in the blood who had Christ in the blood

Who sung out “Abide with Me”

This was my eyes’ closed-eyed vision
This is what a darkness makes

And how did I move from that distance to intimacy

So close I could see
The four soles of their feet so close I was kneeled

Could lick

Those feet as if I was because I became
The fire who abided

I saw that I dreamt

Their black skin made blacker by my feeding
I thought Christ

Why did I think

Their black skin tipped blacker by this American
Feeding but just one shot up

A cry African it was

American O Lord abide with me
It was human lusty flat

You had to be in the hollow of it to taste it

You had to see how in such lack
Invention takes hold

They say some dreams come in the moment

Of waking
Stitched because daylight likes a story

That some dreams are extensions

Of an itch
Thief-walking the coral of the brain

I say

But I did feel that one blue mouth blow out
As I felt

The mood of that tree

As I saw the other turn away apart stay with silence
I stayed with southern silence