What got you writing online?

[Leanne]

For me, writing poetry online has been something beyond life-changing. I don't even remember what spurred me to submit a poem to Poetry.com a million years ago (ok, it was 2003) and I certainly didn't fall for their "your poem has been selected for publication in our anthology, now buy the book" scam... but I did join up to their sister site, the workshop poets.com (affectionately referred to as "the blue screen of death"). There, amidst all the arse-kissers, bible bashers and just plain tossers, I met several incredible people and learned more about poetry than any of my uni professors could ever have dreamed.

I remain in contact with many of those people today (one of them I even imported from Scotland and haven't been able to get rid of him for seven years); they're friends, mentors, confidantes and sources of inspiration. I've collected a few more from various other workshops over the years. I love the intense interaction the internet allows without the need for physical proximity -- despite all the bad press, relationships over the internet can be incredibly honest and fulfilling. That's a large part of why I like it here at the Pig Pen so much -- interaction is encouraged (some might say demanded ) and there are members here who are genuinely interested in poetry in all its incarnations.

That's a little bit of my story -- what about yours?

[billy]

I fell in love and thought writing her poetry would be the cool thing to do, needless to say it was utter drivel...but she loved it because i'd took the time and effort to write it. back in the day i thought i was a poet genius. now after 10 years i wear glasses and see reality a bit clearer. i wrote more back in the day (started writing ten year ago) and only on line. it gave me something to do and i grew extremely fond of reading other peoples work. i've always loved words so i guess it's why i enjoy it so much. me and my partner have been together for 10 year and we met online so i've seen 1st hand the good parts you can take from it. i've never really submitted anything online though a group i was in when i first started out placed one of my poems in an ezine . the guy who ran it with his wire was a professor who taught english and poetry in particular, i thought and still do; that he was a very good teacher and poet. he mingled with the likes of ron silliman who i thought of as a prattishly good poet . i stopped writing poetry for a few years (well, i'd got the girl so why continue ) and then began missing it. i joined a few poetry groups but never found one like MOAPG (mother of all poetry groups) so i only did a few pieces. mostly trash by any standard. i eventually joined a non poetry forum and after some discourse with a mod there, (he told me i had no idea how to be a mod or run a site...it was VF actually ) i decided to start my own poetry site and make it easy for non poets as well. or should i say non writers. (something which no longer belongs to me because you bastards took it over and made it your own.)what i did find out pretty quickly was through the journey of getting here; is that most poetry site are either up your arse with praise or beating it to death with a big spiky stick. I hated both and so i passed from forum to forum eventually i'm here and people are good and kind and most of all honest. not just honest but honest in that non-spiteful way that destroys peoples aspirations. I kind of think i've arrived at where i need to be, all i have to do now is try and write more poetry and make it better.

[Paddygirl]

started writing when most girls do, in my teenage years, obviously I wrote amazing poems that were life changing. When I was twenty and no longer knew it all, I found the shoe box full of shite without the smell though it was such bad poetry it should have smelled. I burned it and then wrote more shite just not quite as juvenile. I left it again for years. The next time I returned to it, the Internet existed and I went online. Found poetry.com and a few like minded people and tried to learn HOW to write poetry so that I could give words the attention they deserve. I gave up again, time constraints, moves etc took over and have waited for (or ignored) the muse since, i think i have managed 4 poems this YEAR I do not have a background or education in writing or anything even along those lines, I just grew up in an English speaking country, where we mostly made mince meat of it. It took a long time to pronounce films with one syllable, take the 'h' off the end of throat, and realise that grammar was not my grandmother and punctuation is more than a full stop. I bought a few books, bad ones, got frustrated and just started googling forms, meter, etc but phantom on poetry.com probably helped better than any of it! Poetry.com died a death for all of us and as i said, life took over. Leanne posted something last week and I got drawn back in to online poetry. The interaction keeps the motivation going. I LOVE reading other people's poetry online. So here I am

[Leanne]

The interaction keeps the motivation going.

Never a truer word was spoken... that's why I encourage everyone to reply to comments they receive, get a dialogue going, ask questions, give answers, that sort of thing. Not only is it polite, it's also good for your poetry -- having someone ask about a particular line or word choice will make you think about it critically, so even if you disagree you know why you disagree. Besides, comments sometimes inspire poems of their own, you never know.

It's interesting that you guys both think you wrote crap when you started out... I never wrote anything but pure brilliance :p.

(Still trying to keep a straight face... failing...)

[billy]

yes we know, even your shit had hidden gems in it .

like Michelle i don't have a background or education in reading, i suppose from reading what i write it's pretty obvious i have no education at all as such i think i'm above the 4 poems this year but most of them are haiku and like the women, i agree that it's about interaction. On a site that prides itself on honest feedback; you'll soon be forgotten if you don't reciprocate with the feedback. no one enjoys talking to thin air.

did everybody do the passing around your poetry to the loved ones thing. when i did it, i was told to fuck off and get a life, or that i was interfering in the drinking time

i suppose that played a part in driving me online, i could find like minded people here (as far as poetry was concerned at least)

[Leanne]

My dad likes poetry but only if it rhymes... my mum hates poetry altogether. I could never be accused of thinking I'm awesome just because my family say so

[billy]

my family like it as long as they didn't have to read it.

i've noticed that many people who post poems online, eventually reach a point where they can take honest feedback in their stride, i've also notice that for some it's a long time coming

[Todd]

What I took from school was that I wasn't good at writing. So, when I got around to it I was in my 20s. I wrote hundreds of poems (awful, cringe worthy poems). I came across online poetry workshops later (initially the harshest ones on the web) which confirmed that I had no clue as to what I was doing. I developed a thicker skin and began to interact with this intense crowd that actually liked something I liked. None of my friends were really into poetry (there was one writer thank god but that was it). I saw my work slowly develop in the way a glacier moves across the ocean. I went through periods where I simply read poetry and didn't write for about a year at a time. I slowly migrated away from the uber-intense not very friendly sites to the honest yet not full metal jacket honest versions. I still have friends on some of these sites that I've been interacting with for ten or so years. I like online poetry because it's 24/7, I get to meet people from everywhere that like poetry, and I don't have to meet the poets that are just in it to get drunk and laid in bars or coffeeshops (I get that everyone needs a hobby but I get tired of the seduction routine described as open mike or I brought some of my stuff to read to the group). I think people are generally more honest online. One of the issues all groups, even online have, is that it gets tougher for some people to review another person's work over the years once they have a relationship. They tend to add details to the poem that they have learned about the other person's life--giving it a weight that the poem doesn't actually create, and they tend to soften their critiques. I haven't found that here because people seem to be able to focus on the poems themselves.

I would still be scribbling half-articulate rambles in store bought journals if I hadn't gotten involved with online poetry. Now, I get to post these rambles for your enjoyment or groaning (oh &^#$ not this again).

[Philatone]

Around 12, i got Instant messenger for the first time and would update my profile daily with a new poem about every day. around the same time, I also joined my first poetry site (whose name escapes me, unfortunately). I was consistent enough on the site for about a year before dropping off slowly. I didn't really have friends who wrote and i felt uncomfortable about showing my family members, so the internet had the safety of being anonymous.

This is the first site i've joined since then. i wish i kept my work from back then just for the sake of recollection; i took a hiatus from poetry until my sophomore year of undergrad and have kept everything since

[Leanne]

Jeez Geoff, you had instant messenger when you were 12? The internet wasn't even invented when I was that age!

[billy]

i remember us instant or ym about 10 or so years ago int fooling my partner into loving me

as for the poetry i did. i actually kept most of it (it's so bad...) i can understand people dropping out of poetry, i also took time away from it for a few years. now i'm ready to write poetry i struggle to get the time.

[abu nuwas]

I'm fucked if I know. I had had verious handsome and sturdy computers, but the nearest thing to reacting with other people was a site devoted to Anglo-Saxon matters, where enthusiasts and academics would get into great rages ove some obscure point, and even greater ones, when someone might mention some French thinker--red rag to a North American bull, professor or no. I was at that time a member of a thing where we got to-gether in a pub, and talked about Anglo-Saxon stuff. Years later, I got a laptop, and found a site where everyone talked about Dawkins--it was devoted to secular stuff, which the people took to be equivalent to atheism. I took the name Abu Nidal, supposing that no-one would recall the nasty terrorist--and I was wrong! Abu Nuwas seemed better, but I gave not the slightest thought to his sexual inclinations. I would throw in some God stuff, to see what effect it might have, but really, I was on completely the wrong track.

The site was organised in such a way that little boxes appeared in which you could see people. There was also some facility where people could choose to go into a private room. I then noticed that 'many a true word said in jest' always involved pressure on some young woman to get her kit off. Evidently it happened, but sadly, it must have been in some time-zone when i was sleeping; or maybe when it was just the old pals and no interloper. So I gave that up.

I wrote poetry, and when somehow I came across AP, it seemed natural to put it on there, as an artist would exhibit their paintings, no suggestion of going back and adding a bit of burnt umber because someone wandered into the gallery and suggested it. Then Leanne turned up (with IM "What's the go here?" going on to suggest that the 'go' might be, as it was/is everyone saying everything was awesome). With her fancy ideas about work-shopping and all, my happy, contented,even vain, world gradually crumbled, and now I barely know which end of the poetic quill to use, and am far too terrified to try at all. I did all that I could, even as far as writing a poem entitled ''I agree with Leanne'' and repeating this sentiment whenever she made a comment. To no purpose. But of course I have learnt much-- just no longer apply the lessons.

Things may change. Whilst indulging my grand-daughters this week, on the eating and clothing front (they eased their collective conscience by getting me to buy something for me--some funny shorts made to keep water off), and I myself decided I would go out on a limb--and buy a black beret! Yes! Think of me as Montgomery on top of a tank, chasing Rommel out of Afrika; or as Picasso, perhaps even an old geezer playing 'petanque' in la belle France. Good, but for me, it is the poet's crown. I explained this in my favorite cafe, saying I would wear it to the Poetry Society in C London, to be told that a poetry society is too be set up by some woman right there, in the good old BlueBelle, come September! So--I think I must write something before then. Probably on uncritical AP...... Wake up!

[billy]

I'm fucked if I know. I had had verious handsome and sturdy computers, but the nearest thing to reacting with other people was a site devoted to Anglo-Saxon matters, where enthusiasts and academics would get into great rages ove some obscure point, and even greater ones, when someone might mention some French thinker--red rag to a North American bull, professor or no. I was at that time a member of a thing where we got to-gether in a pub, and talked about Anglo-Saxon stuff. Years later, I got a laptop, and found a site where everyone talked about Dawkins--it was devoted to secular stuff, which the people took to be equivalent to atheism. I took the name Abu Nidal, supposing that no-one would recall the nasty terrorist--and I was wrong! Abu Nuwas seemed better, but I gave not the slightest thought to his sexual inclinations. I would throw in some God stuff, to see what effect it might have, but really, I was on completely the wrong track.

The site was organised in such a way that little boxes appeared in which you could see people. There was also some facility where people could choose to go into a private room. I then noticed that 'many a true word said in jest' always involved pressure on some young woman to get her kit off. Evidently it happened, but sadly, it must have been in some time-zone when i was sleeping; or maybe when it was just the old pals and no interloper. So I gave that up.

I wrote poetry, and when somehow I came across AP, it seemed natural to put it on there, as an artist would exhibit their paintings, no suggestion of going back and adding a bit of burnt umber because someone wandered into the gallery and suggested it. Then Leanne turned up (with IM "What's the go here?" going on to suggest that the 'go' might be, as it was/is everyone saying everything was awesome). With her fancy ideas about work-shopping and all, my happy, contented,even vain, world gradually crumbled, and now I barely know which end of the poetic quill to use, and am far too terrified to try at all. I did all that I could, even as far as writing a poem entitled ''I agree with Leanne'' and repeating this sentiment whenever she made a comment. To no purpose. But of course I have learnt much-- just no longer apply the lessons.

Things may change. Whilst indulging my grand-daughters this week, on the eating and clothing front (they eased their collective conscience by getting me to buy something for me--some funny shorts made to keep water off), and I myself decided I would go out on a limb--and buy a black beret! Yes! Think of me as Montgomery on top of a tank, chasing Rommel out of Afrika; or as Picasso, perhaps even an old geezer playing 'petanque' in la belle France. Good, but for me, it is the poet's crown. I explained this in my favorite cafe, saying I would wear it to the Poetry Society in C London, to be told that a poetry society is too be set up by some woman right there, in the good old BlueBelle, come September! So--I think I must write something before then. Probably on uncritical AP...... Wake up!

Things may change. Whilst indulging my grand-daughters this week, on the eating and clothing front (they eased their collective conscience by getting me to buy something for me--some funny shorts made to keep water off),

why does the phrase incontinence pants come to mind


leanne's a good teacher, it's why we snapped her up, the poetry she does is a bonus.

as for writinng anywhere else but here, OMG, we'll restrict beret wearing if you do that.

[abu nuwas]

I'm fucked if I know. I had had various handsome and sturdy computers, but the nearest thing to reacting with other people was a site devoted to Anglo-Saxon matters, where enthusiasts and academics would get into great rages over some obscure point, and even greater ones, when someone might mention some French thinker--red rag to a North American bull, professor or no. I was at that time a member of a thing where we got to-gether in a pub, and talked about Anglo-Saxon stuff. Years later, I got a laptop, and found a site where everyone talked about Dawkins--it was devoted to secular stuff, which the people took to be equivalent to atheism. I took the name Abu Nidal, supposing that no-one would recall the nasty terrorist--and I was wrong! Abu Nuwas seemed better, but I gave not the slightest thought to his sexual inclinations. I would throw in some God stuff, to see what effect it might have, but really, I was on completely the wrong track.

The site was organised in such a way that little boxes appeared in which you could see people. There was also some facility where people could choose to go into a private room. I then noticed that 'many a true word said in jest' always involved pressure on some young woman to get her kit off. Evidently it happened, but sadly, it must have been in some time-zone when i was sleeping; or maybe when it was just the old pals and no interloper. So I gave that up.

I wrote poetry, and when somehow I came across AP, it seemed natural to put it on there, as an artist would exhibit their paintings, no suggestion of going back and adding a bit of burnt umber because someone wandered into the gallery and suggested it. Then Leanne turned up (with IM "What's the go here?" going on to suggest that the 'go' might be, as it was/is everyone saying everything was awesome). With her fancy ideas about work-shopping and all, my happy, contented,even vain, world gradually crumbled, and now I barely know which end of the poetic quill to use, and am far too terrified to try at all. I did all that I could, even as far as writing a poem entitled ''I agree with Leanne'' and repeating this sentiment whenever she made a comment. To no purpose. But of course I have learnt much-- just no longer apply the lessons.

Things may change. Whilst indulging my grand-daughters this week, on the eating and clothing front (they eased their collective conscience by getting me to buy something for me--some funny shorts made to keep water off), and I myself decided I would go out on a limb--and buy a black beret! Yes! Think of me as Montgomery on top of a tank, chasing Rommel out of Afrika; or as Picasso, perhaps even an old geezer playing 'petanque' in la belle France. Good, but for me, it is the poet's crown. I explained this in my favorite cafe, saying I would wear it to the Poetry Society in C London, to be told that a poetry society is too be set up by some woman right there, in the good old BlueBelle, come September! So--I think I must write something before then. Probably on uncritical AP...... Wake up!

Things may change. Whilst indulging my grand-daughters this week, on the eating and clothing front (they eased their collective conscience by getting me to buy something for me--some funny shorts made to keep water off),

why does the phrase incontinence pants come to mind


leanne's a good teacher, it's why we snapped her up, the poetry she does is a bonus.

as for writinng anywhere else but here, OMG, we'll restrict beret wearing if you do that.

I am glad you were entertained after such a giant skip. Of course Leanne is the best. I only plucked up the courage to mention the name because I know she is rather busy. No-one is exempt, Billy: no-one.

[Leanne]

Pair of knobs

Is this you, Abu?

[abu nuwas]

Pair of knobs

Is this you, Abu?

Of course I am younger and more charismatic.....but, a vrai dire, there is a certain -crude - resemblance. He, Picasso and I understand that the wearing of the beret is analogous to the thrust of the famous quote: "It must have been a brave man who first ate an oyster". We are men apart; we pioneer, others follow, and eat the oysters we have revealed to them, and occasionally, they find a pearl as well. Malheureusement, quant au beret de ce Monsieur, c'est... no where near as good as mine. I hope that swine Billy did not rat on me. I thought it would sink unnoticed into the exegetical swamp. Now, have Team GB finally got into this fucking stadium....

[billy]

yeah. i'm going to tweet them to see if they want to do a poem about losing
as for Leanne; she has her ear to the ground.; she knows what you think

[Leanne]

I know to not eat the pearls. Doesn't exegesis mean you've turned your back on Christianity?

[billy]

if god exists, that would be an impossible thing to do,

[TwistedAngel]

i started writing just over a year ago...kinda forced into it for a bit

but for some reason i carried on writing stuff an thought well wots the point of writing all this stuff if no ones gonna read it ?

i know am not a clever or like a big wordy person but i spose am looking for 'acceptance' maybe ? like just somone to read it an say "yeah i feel ya" is all