poetry critical

online poetry workshop

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squeeze the word  cadmium  6 Aug 18 2:21AM Post Reply

poetry, where you place a word in the right place so that it forces a new physical reality on the line. that's the understanding of 'phrase'... that it's organic, self-defined and self-created because it just felt good to write it.

that's why prose-dump has always been so lame. because it's the product of mentality and history, and the people who write it shouldn't have even been taught to read it in the first place. poetry is language made real.

re: squeeze the word  OldShoe  6 Aug 18 3:42AM Post Reply

i disagree, but have all that is yours. away--  same in same.  you write in writing styles, to write, or not at all.  and when you peel it back, if you cannot find cadence in idioms, idioms in cadence, then you just lack a general respect for language.  

period.  

one man's lame, is another's epiphany, existence.  

like the crushing you speak of in terms of experience.  

the difference between bathroom scrawling, cave art, journal entry, sonnet, -ru, and/end no-novella -blurs at the edge of sound.  save for pattern, rhythm, repetition, music --sonics (youth-to-un-youth) full

the pauper envies the prince, the prince-- the pauper

but then, to beat language out into cadence to some is predictable, disposable - and to others yet--

art.

duchamp wasn't original in his finding, beyond only exposing that it is in the finding itself, the audience.  'it' exists

so there you have it.  it is all in the audience.  

it is crap because you say it is crap.  brilliant because you say it is brilliant.  and the other and next, nothing just the same.  generational, unbalanced, and incomplete, offensive, efficacy, effaced.

what you want to sing, others tune out.

what you study, labor over. others will assuredly piss on

again and again, to be there own original-- sin

the word is not real anymore so than the reader permits.  

the world is not real anymore so than the experiencer, admits.

it is menstrual at best.

impregnated only when acting upon someone, (other/else)-ly: in some way.

your soliloquy-- a world to many, a many world, a universe, universal, spec to some-- still


because you say it is so, it is so for you.  but for others not.  and that will never be yours.

pues nada, y-

a shotgun

whether you touch many or few or none at all, to say you do not reach beyond your own grasp, would be an expedition into the heart of nothing

a lie- a truth

a half-proof

suppose this, suppose that

suppose

p(r)ose


by any other undoing


would never by my/your own

re: squeeze the word  cadmium  6 Aug 18 4:29AM Post Reply

you act as though you shat words, and that, because you're a 'poet', your shit doesn't stink. that's  shit. we write to get inside the truth, and the truth is how our own unique consciousness understands and forms subjective reality. we can't be everyone else, because we can't know everyone else's reality. what we can do is create objective objects and share them. poetry is the only formed non-spoken language act. prose is stupid: it cannot show thought or even suggest thinking at all. prose lists frozen opinions and depends on the reader being hip to where the author is coming from. that sounds so hip, but it's actually some HR person in a corp. telling everyone not to drink coffee in their cubes... everyone already knows how to respond to HR people. contrasting, a poem teaches me how to get out of the cube and into freedom. prose forces you to think like everyone else.

re: squeeze the word  OldShoe  6 Aug 18 4:34AM Post Reply

my shit stinks, i assure you

as much as any mans'

but don't speak for me, i staked no claim

it was more non-self, then nonesense

but keep on, keeping on

re: squeeze the word  cadmium  6 Aug 18 6:29AM Post Reply

i'm saying you're just spewing words, because i'm suggesting that poetry is an actual invention of language every time we write a real poem. and, you're just saying, 'whatever' and repeating that you feel that everyone's a poet because poetry is about having friends and feeling good or feeling bad. like, at a 12 step.

what do you think happens to your head when you feel that this one word that came into your consciousness is the only word that can work at that point in the poem? is is just puzzle solving, or is it that that word fit your mood and mind such that it turned into an emotion word...? like, why do you think there's no difference between poetry writing and prose writing? why even have something you can call 'poetry', if it's just like when you write in a diary or as a tweet?

re: squeeze the word  OldShoe  6 Aug 18 6:45AM Post Reply

a shallow thought.  but you are welcome to it.

re: squeeze the word  OldShoe  6 Aug 18 6:55AM Post Reply

one does not have to imprison language, in attempt to make it effective.

there have been, and will always be, many that disagree.  and there should be for good reason.

at some point, as has been case for many,  acknowledgement is unnecessary.  

you, as likely, would find such company

--the mirror is always a lie, as much as it is a truth

those who come into their own, need no affirmation.

argument-- maybe.  but you're living yours.  

others will have others.  

the dialogue has gone on this way for ages.  as it should.

there's no fighting in any of this, any further than you have for yourself

in those cages you will find many feathers-- by beak, plume, preening

re: squeeze the word  cadmium  6 Aug 18 7:24AM Post Reply

yes, but i wonder if spirit, the nature of us, isn't a forward pressure. that we can never really stop time, imprison language, as you say. but, the mind has a need to make things stable, perfect, and we can build in mind the feeling that things are ok, that nothing really changes. so, prose is perfectly fine for calling attention to what needs suppression -- what needs to be shut up. the way the unks must tell us to shut up and so on, and say 'you should write poetry instead of...'. and, that's a political act.

so, the dialog here isn't to shut anyone up, but to open up the discussion to ideas which have never been thought by most people here. ideas that they really do have a unique reality and aren't just a robot clone fit only for passively buying things or working for the fascist state. which, is what mostly it seems like people want from us: to just shut up and stop making them afraid? no?

re: squeeze the word  OldShoe  6 Aug 18 8:51AM Post Reply

perhaps, or perhaps not. i am no longer one of certainty.  

i welcome not being these days.  that may change too.  (no matter)

like word, writ-- whatever --ing --it may be

it is temporal, at best.  a pond come winter

(we all come to thaw-- do we not?) do we knot?

what is woven becomes unwoven, only to be woven again

perhaps stevens' metaphysical postulations were most apt

besides the words on the page, language has no stasis

insofar as there are the readers, to each-- an act, a performance

always, moving or un-moving --whatever the case to each

it is but phases, in passing, more lament-- than any wax or wane

what you saw in years past, what was but a week ago

if you were to hold a light to it, if you were to cast shadow

against a wall, allegorically speaking --while you would recall

while you would hold a familiar charm in self, if perhaps only in

some melancholic affinity, it would never be as it once was

and so, i like to leave the doors and windows open

not everything has to hinge and hook, into a tidy yeatsian puzzle box

i enjoy limiting language at times, but perhaps because retrospectively

introspectively, i find it so limitless --what makes no sense makes perfect

and practice is all we have.  there are far greater facades to deface

other-than(s) ---ones and others  

not everyone wants to have that dialogue-- they may rather write

they may rather not believe a thing, maybe-- to them

belief is burden, ruin against ruin --but they can still be passionate

and there's no wrong in challenge-- for self sake or other, that's a whole

other world, whether partook or not.  i know what i know.  and i know

that is nothing, which is something that i honestly am still incapable

of understanding in the first place.  the very concept anyway.  predates

me-- consciously, conscience-- and the very origin of my fascination

with language in the first place.  (stage: dim lit bathroom of a 19th

century victorian, 5-year legs dangling from a porcelain toilet --with

some serious ayn-randian-anthem dilemma, over the article 'the')

perhaps why i feel to the --way) of my mother (hem-- : such an

emasculated allusion, when it all ads up.  but i just don't see it as you

and that is fine (for me), whether acceptable or not -- to any (other)

not all, not always, --but in particulars themselves, i found music

and in my studies, (poetica moderna) -- the american idiom, the common

(w.ill) of any poet challenging another --epic(ly) if you read patterson (i-am)

c.ould not relate personally to e.e. (s) writing, yet rhetorically referenced

w.hy a fashionable grocery list, was more than random s
.                                                                                  p
.                                                                                    u
.                                                                                      t
.                                                                                       t
.                                                                                        e
.                                                                                         r
.                                                                                         i
.                                                                                         n
.                                                                                         g

and while at that time, i agreed whole-heartidly with him, and that

the nonsensical, whimsy, was nothing but such.  after reading the

entire collective, i found sense.  and then years later --such affinity

the likes of which would bring any heart out of hiding.

i was pressed like any other. in study. but that gets so stagnant.

and what i came to-- what i found --was that all around the post--

contempt.  was paving its own path, so quickly behind the rest

so i don't say-- tell me, what it is.  i don't pray for an answer.

rather, i enjoy how free, unencumbered it can be, when one lets it be.

more than it is.  less than it never was.  all that it isn't. everything it's not.

assuredly, never, not-so-much, hardly, precisely (such) and (so)

one can say prose is prose, poetry is poetry, and be right

one can read a series of words, listed on a page, seemingly haphazardly

and find more.  and be right.  one can reject cantos by manifestos of

another.  and be right. and one can take up affection for be wrong--

always so wrong, unapologetic-ally fascinated, with how wrong one

can be, and feel so right.  the magic of magic realism is in the lie that

tells more truth, than the narrative written by the historian.  the ghost

is real, because we felt it so.  more real than what really occurred.  

the fable, the story, the metaphor, simile --acute, how queer the strange

sharpness of it all.  it'll cut you.  deeper than deep.  i just want to know

where the rabbit hole goes.
                                                                                

re: squeeze the word  OldShoe  6 Aug 18 9:08AM Post Reply

(excerpt from Patterson - figured you'd enjoy it, relatively speaking - to this and every other constant attempt to dialogue what is... i was 22 when i read the epic poem, which argumentatively, contains much prose, and wasn't all to exciting for me then.  prose or poetry --be damned, when one sets out on a celebration of language, as their own epic song of self-- one can be brazen, if not limitless)



(Q. Mr. Williams, can you tell me, simply, what poetry is?

A. Well . . . I would say that poetry is language charged
with emotion. It's words, rhythmically organized
A poem is a complete little universe. It exists separately. Any
poem that has worth expresses the whole life of the poet. It
gives a view of what the poet is.

Q. All right, look at mis part of a poem by £. £. Cummings, an-
other great American poet:

(im)c-a-t(tno)
b4vl:e

FallleA
l*!n

Oattumblf

sh?dr
IftwhirlF
(Ul) (1Y)
&&&

Is this poetry?

A. I would reject it as a poem. It may be, to him, a poem. But

1 would reject it. I can't understand it. He's a serious man.
So I struggle very hard with it — and I get no meaning
at all.

Q. You get no meaning? But here's part of a poem you your-
self have written: ... "2 partridges/ 2 mallard
ducks/ a Dungeness crab/ 24 hours out/ of the Pacific/ and

2 live-frozen/ trout/ from Denmark . . . " Now,
that sounds just like a fashionable grocery list!



224



A. It is a fashionable grocery list.
Q, Well — is it poetry?

A. We poets have to talk in a language which is not English. It
is the American idiom. Rhythmically it's organized as a sam-
ple of the American idiom. It has as much originality as jazz.
If you say "2 partridges, 2 mallard ducks, a Dungeness crab"
— if you treat that rhythmically, ignoring the practical sense,
it forms a jagged pattern, ft is, to my mind, poetry.

Q. But if you don't "ignore the practical sense' 1 . . . you
agree that it is a fashionable grocery list.

A. Yes. Anything is good material for poetry. Anything. I've
said it time and time again.

Q« Aren't we supposed to understand it?

A. There is a difference of poetry and the sense. Sometimes
modern poets ignore sense completely. That's what makes
some of the difficulty . The audience is confused

by the shape of the words.

Q. But shouldn't a word mean something when you see it?

A. In prose, an English word means what it says. In poetry,
you're listening to two things , . you're listening
to the sense, the common sense of what it says. But it says
more. That is the difficulty.

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