Poetry

[rrw]

Poetry

I've been thinking a lot about poetry lately,
manly because I have little else to think about
and even less to say....
Should poetry rhyme all the time,
or is it just as fine
when the words spill out
spontaneously onto the page?
Do I really need structure... or not?
How many ways can one describe
the bumps, bruises, caresses and kisses
experienced in a single lifetime without
sounding profoundly repetitive... redundant?
Are there enough metaphors and similes
to adequately express
how deep the darkness, how bright the light
can get for one who truly sees his own illusions?
Only thing I know for sure is:
confusion loves company and poetry loves
the smell of coffee steaming from a ceramic cup
and the scent of a lone cigarette sitting
in an ashtray with nothing to do but burn up
and...
that this emptiness I feel whenever twilight calls
and the words to express its velvet feel won't come
drives me so sadly into the arms of loneliness
I can't keep from writing it down in my computer,
on a napkin or whatever medium is available. Horrible,
isn't it that our desire to create seems to be
birthed from our misery, our inability to touch another?
"Words, words, words..." I forgot who said that,
but I vaguely remember...
He wasn't very happy at the time.

[vixen]

wonderful RRW
Words...
the expression of the mind,
So many of them ... and
I can't find the right ones
most of the time
but it is only 1 way of expression
the only one of use to poets
... after all
how can you see body language
... in a poem?
Vixen

[rrw]

Very interesting, Vix... that's why like performing my poetry... body language can add an extra dimension to the poem. Thanks for the read.

[anirbas]

Interesting RRW-ic ruminations of the mind on poeming...Man, you made us all sound manic depressive or something...ggglgggl...Which is entirely correct...Every other day of the week...
Great poeming, got more? Nir.

[rrw]

hehehe, Ani. Oh, I don't know about the manic thing, But I got admit it has been a very long time (if ever) I wrote a happy poem. ;D

[dawness]

well, rr..if the cigarette can sit on its butt, you can dance with the fire! consuming! thanks")

[rrw]

dawness said:

well, rr..if the cigarette can sit on its butt, you can dance with the fire! consuming! thanks")

Yep, that sounds good to me, Dawn! Just hope that god soesn't put me out half smoked.

[johnyamrus]

baby, you can write!

[rrw]

johnyamrus said:

baby, you can write!

Thanks, John! I do what I can with what I got. By the way this one was inspired by one of yours. After I read your poem I sat down and wrote this. So thanks for the inspiration. ;D

[shell]

This is beautiful! I so related to everything you described.
"how deep the darkness, how bright the light
can get for one who truly sees his own illusions?"
I find it harder these days to reconcile what i see with what, apparently is. I don't accept that what i am seeing is the illusion, i think everything else is lol - but it does make for a lot of full ashtrays.

I think what you and others have said is very true ... poets are often trying to describe the indescribable, that velvet feeling/tone/whatever it is within that becomes the without as well. There is nothing original, or even individual (as we understand those concepts) to be thought or felt. Which is profound in itself. Maybe if we snuffle around with forms we may break the mould and say something that feels new even if the "it" is not.

Scientists would say there is nothing unpredictable about senses or behaviour and we are all so programmed that even on the widest scale every thought/action has its pre-determined place. But still we try to step beyond the programme, maybe that is our spirit. Extremes of misery are often great vehicles ... those emotions push us more than anything, perhaps because in such moments we are beyond fear?

hmmm ... you got me rambling! Yep, loved this!

[dawness]

so, when the next gem???

[rrw]

shell said:

This is beautiful! I so related to everything you described.
"how deep the darkness, how bright the light
can get for one who truly sees his own illusions?"
I find it harder these days to reconcile what i see with what, apparently is. I don't accept that what i am seeing is the illusion, i think everything else is lol - but it does make for a lot of full ashtrays.

I think what you and others have said is very true ... poets are often trying to describe the indescribable, that velvet feeling/tone/whatever it is within that becomes the without as well. There is nothing original, or even individual (as we understand those concepts) to be thought or felt. Which is profound in itself. Maybe if we snuffle around with forms we may break the mould and say something that feels new even if the "it" is not.

Scientists would say there is nothing unpredictable about senses or behaviour and we are all so programmed that even on the widest scale every thought/action has its pre-determined place. But still we try to step beyond the programme, maybe that is our spirit. Extremes of misery are often great vehicles ... those emotions push us more than anything, perhaps because in such moments we are beyond fear?

hmmm ... you got me rambling! Yep, loved this!

I think the great thing when writing poetry is when you begin to see with your own eyes and talk with your own voice which is what you do, shell.

[anirbas]

RRW: I think the great thing when writing poetry is when you begin to see with your own eyes and talk with your own voice which is what you do, shell...

Spoken like a true poet...

Grins and waves to da 'Seasons folks and guests. Nir.

[rrw]

Thanks, Ani... I think there's that time when you discover that "style" that is you... and what a glorious moment! And even better when you keep discovering it, hearing your voice change as you grow as a writer. That's the wonderful thing about writing poetry: it's ever changing.