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Poetics and Poetry Discussion


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  • Jefferson Carter (7/10/2014 11:34:00 AM) Post reply

    Hey, Poemhumpers, you'll be relieved to know administration is protecting you from the f-word (while allowing this site to be over-run with troll-idiots) . I posted my poem below with the f-word, and it was deleted. I wonder if those asterisks will protect it now?I usually don't post my owen poems here because it's rude and also because some silly editors consider that publication. I just thought a July 4th poem would tickle someone's fancy. I'll delete it in a while.



    4th OF JULY



    Driving to Cloudcroft
    among the dying pines, I hit
    a wild turkey. I wiped the blood
    from its head, wrapped the body
    in an old blanket & locked
    our out-of-season feast
    in the trunk. Hello, babe?
    Could you google how
    to cook a wild turkey?

    Two checkpoints between here
    & Tucson. I’ll untie my do-rag,
    put on a collared shirt & practice
    an expression both innocent
    & bland while Hank Wlliams, Jr.,
    that silly f**k, on the radio sings
    a medley of patriotic songs.

  • Sean North (7/10/2014 4:19:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    AND aWAKE - oLd hISsToRY



    0h
    pLeASe
    GiVe
    mE
    a
    BreAK

    nOt
    siNcE
    Ye$tErdAy
    Thi$
    $ATAN'$
    bEeN
    aWaKe

    yOU
    caN
    sLIdE
    DoWn
    A
    lAddEr

    tOo
    ClIMb
    uP
    oN
    a
    SnakE

    bE
    tHe
    vErY
    ReADy
    anSwER
    foR
    EACH

    aN
    evEry
    maN
    maDe
    mIsTaKe

    rOb
    yOurSElF
    quiTe
    BLiNdLy
    bOth
    EYe'S
    OPeN

    AND
    aWAKE

    Replies for this message:
    • Sean North (7/10/2014 4:39:00 AM) Post reply

      luv fn pErsonal a10 shun... n ghost editing... or is that post... whatever..just checking if im awake... eNjOY


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  • Musfiq Us Shaleheen (7/10/2014 1:35:00 AM) Post reply

    I was amazed. Love is immortal and it makes a lover immortal. A poem of love is immortal and it makes the poet immortal.
    -Akhtar Jawad

  • ...- - -... (7/9/2014 12:03:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    DANIEL KHALASTCHI
    ······························


    Poem: (With It We Bury)


    The poles keep the city standing and
    the boys aren’t coming home—
    aren’t
    coming home to fill their boxes, aren’t
    coming home to tend the hedge;
    the

    boys aren’t coming home
    for much this time,
    aren’t
    coming home to tend the hedge.
    And our drug stores sell
    ribbons for

    too much this time, and
    our cars
    tree streets for our boys.
    Our drug stores sell
    ribbons, sell
    treats for the kids,

    and our cars
    tree the streets for our boys.
    And door to door men keep coming
    selling treats for the kids
    who can’t afford
    the cost of their leagues;

    door to door men are coming,
    coming home without boys,
    who can’t afford
    the cost of their league.
    And to the girls that are
    left

    coming home without
    boys,
    you should lay back
    and do it yourselves;
    all the girls we have left,
    straying still in their beds,

    lay back
    and do it yourselves.
    Until the weak pull the
    grasses straying still in their beds
    the boys who aren’t home
    won’t come.

    Until the weak pull the grasses,
    poles keep stand the city—
    the boys who aren’t home
    won’t come,
    aren’t coming
    home to fill their boxes.

    Replies for this message:
  • Mandolyn Orwhatever (7/8/2014) Post reply

    Jeff Gangwer- I'm telling your mom you posted a billion poems today. You're sooo busted.

  • Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (7/5/2014 10:38:00 AM) Post reply

    Very good poems with different ideas are coming in the web and it is nice.

  • Tailor Bell (7/5/2014 5:32:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    Been working 24/7 for the past 2.5 years. Actually had some free time on the 4th of July. So I thought I'd post a few past works. I do miss this place for some strange reason.

    Replies for this message:
    • Tailor Bell (7/5/2014 6:09:00 AM) Post reply

      Another one, in case you were reading... * Whatever The Cost * To put my arm around her I must reach over this world To hold her next to me I must in dreaming night, dream To kiss her ... more

    • Tailor Bell (7/5/2014 5:33:00 AM) Post reply

      * Secret of Fire Sauce * Milk-toast mama Raven hair in a green desire Zero on the halfling dial A yard of stout, shots A couple Restraint (contemplated) Not pounding Toadies who've ta ... more

  • Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (7/4/2014 4:44:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Today I got opportunity to read the poetry of great poet William blake and Czeslaw miloz. I am very glad to get such an opportunity to read these poems which were so interesting.

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  • Josette Aubrey (7/3/2014 11:06:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I was reading Baudelaire and came across a word that I don't know. I've looked all over for the definition and can't find it anywhere! ! ! If there's anyone who knows it, please help! ! The word is: 'fieath. Cheers :)

    Replies for this message:
  • Mandolyn Orwhatever (7/3/2014 11:15:00 AM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    So I take it the forum is pretty much a waffle house at 3 am?

    Replies for this message:
    • Tailor Bell (7/4/2014 5:09:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      After the buttering, if you choose to layer on the syrup, so be it... -Tailor

    • Professor Plum (7/3/2014 12:11:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      I was here last night. Had a cup-a-coffee and some toast. Oleo and jelly. Boysenberry. I wrote a poem on a napkin and then accidentally wiped my mouth with it. I left it the way it was. Made the poem ... more


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