I like to try as many forms as I can. Haiku are popular so what the hell: Winter Haiku Snow angels at dark Feather with moon and stardust, The frost grasps their wings. Darkness, and one light Burns in the distance, surely Someone's waiting there. The town square at ten Bears whites and greens and reds, then Only your blue eyes. One tree cups the moon, Balances the amulet On gnarled black fingers. Just before you fell The ice had painted your face Dotted it with stars.
Dear Kidder, what is this- midget poetry? The yeast you can do is rind it. When you toast poems here you butter fry harder. These piddle rings are cupid. Smarten up! Yours, Hip popped gyrl
Osiris, you are evolving! And here is a form meant to seal all your pores. Keep adding them. You might be surprised at what constraint can do.
lol. I've written many a Haiku in my time. It is an interesting form. But form is not the totality of Art. I'm beginning to think that you have simply not experienced enough Life to see the Beauty of the Transcendental Amorphous. You'll break that mold in Time. And then you will look back and think to your Self: "Damn. That Dick was right." lol. eMBeMLaHV!
No, I haven't lived long enough to be rich enough in experience to take solid positions on a lot of things. But I've had a wonderful proxy. I've read and read and read. And as a result, I do know what I like in writing. Clear, spare presentation. Okay, maybe a rose thrown in here or there but nothing overly or overtly ornate. Maybe, I will look back in 2020 and say 'that dick was right.' But if I did, it would be couched far differently. I can't write like you and I don't want to. That's why style exists- to allow a large enough border for all of us to fit in.
Then why can't you accept that others might not want to write like you? Different strokes, for different folks and all. I liked this winter haikuey. A few subtle strokes of genius that caught my eye and made my whiskers twich were.. [The frost grasps their wings ... Someone's waiting there. .... Only your blue eyes] It's personal and touching...
Kitten, indeed different strokes for different folks, but don't you think writing is all about communication too? Some folks can muddy up a teardrop. The reason why poetry doesn't have the audience it had years and years ago isn't just a matter of media competition or overwhelming choice in personal pursuits. It all comes down to the fact if you're going to be relevant to people you've got to be articulate, you've got to communicate. Words alone are not enough. Well, there's my rant. Pour some gas on it and throw it in a trash can. But I'm glad you like a little bit of the haiku. I like the form precisely because it forces writers to make choices and we all learn a little more when form becomes a bit of a prick.
Hmmm where does a circle end? Writing is about communication, sometimes with the public and sometimes simply with one self...no? Call me nutty, but sometimes I feel the need to talk things out with meself!
You're right- we do need time for ourselves. To talk to whatever it is that is us. I come by my irritability naturally. I've been involved with debating societies since public school and I've learned to be ruthless more than I should. How many people have I told, in politer terms, to 'start talking sense or shut the fuck up' I've forgotten. I just have become impatient with people who can't make a point clearly. And I'll have to get over that. Poetry is a huge world and it has a vast array of citizens. Keep writing!
The thing you have been trained to ignore, along with every other technical militant, is that, especially in poetry, there is an intrinsic meaning far superceding the mundane definitions of the words. There are connotations beyond your scope of understanding that can only be grasped by application and aspiration. WHen people discuss, for instance, a subject such as "freedom". no two people have the same inner personal meaning for that word, despite the fact that they can look it up in a dictionary and find a common definition. But, inevitably, that common definition must also be comprised of words, each of which will have varying degrees of inner personal meaning to each individual that absorbs them. The purpose of Art is to transcend definition. That this is done by virtue of that very definition there can be no doubt, for in order that a Thing may be Transcended, it must be experienced. So the "moral" of this story is: Check the attacking impulse! Absorb. Let the words, and there definition, absolve within you until all is left bare, and the energy that went into them is revealed. Then, and only then, will you Know the Truth that is Art. I commend you, however, on your refusal to accept things you don't understand. It is a noble gesture. But in order that you ever come to understand them, you must, as stated above, come to accept them. Of course, this Process Universal of which I write is only to be assimilated through experience, and it can be no doubt that this very experience is happening right now, that through this act of communication, even and perhaps especially, in debate, do we facilitate it. eMBeMLaHV!
Osiris, I agree that one (ummm, I) must be more receptive to nuances in words and writing. Meaning does wear many disguises and sometimes it's a bitch to recognize. I like your term 'technical militant.' Language is always changing but it's important to recognize core inner strappings remain. The one thing I've always appreciated about Shakespeare, or Keats or Thomas etc. was that despite how difficult the subject matter might be that they were dealing with in their work the effect of what they intended to say was immediate with the reader. Bang! No circumlocutions. No puzzled hesitations. The writing was great because what they said was said so well the impact was instantaneous. You recognized instantly, at least, the broad idea of what they intended. Clarity of wording, clarity of imaging, clarity of meaning. I guess that's what being a master of any genre means. The bond with the reader is taken on quickly. Well, anyway, I do intend to become more experienced in things I know too little about. And I am going to enjoy the journey. Thanks for adding on here!
Tsk, tsk. You sell Shakespeare short on Mystic Meaning, friend. Not all of what he writes is exactly what it seems. But I have great respect for your willingness to hash it out. eMBeMLaHV!
Shakespeare, despite the march of many centuries and many more to come, stands out even amongst giants of the craft and effortlessly assumes a larger posture. I still marvel over his sonnets. The utter magic. The power. The immediacy. Here was indeed 'Time's best jewel.' We will owe him a debt that can never be repaid but we can humbly offer what we can. And what we can- is share his work and that of others like him who have accomplished so much and made our lives so much larger. Keep reading him!
