When I started this blog I had a notion to include a poem with every post. It started well enough, but then I decided I didn't want to structure my posts in any formal way. I would like to think my posts have about as much organisation and tidyness as a bedroom floor strewn with the garments (and paraphernalia) of two lovers. Hmmm, yeah well maybe not.
Poetry to me has a versatility, it's melodic, like painting colourful swirls with words. Funny, insightful, dramatic, and soulful. Even bad poetry has something to offer. I liken it to cheese, the words providing the texture and substance, while the ryhme and pace provide the flavour which can be as complex or subtle as the authour wishes. Outside of music, there seems to be a dearth of poetry in day to day life and I blame this on the genre itself. Somewhere it lost its way, and couldn't keep up with the advent of new communications (email, sms etc). Many people dismiss it as being overly dramatic, soppy, and a long-winded way of saying something that can be summed up much more quickly and efficiently. Perhaps it's time that our modern communications discovered the joy of the poetic phrase, to whit some suggestions for your next SMS:
Standard - where r u?
Poetic - where r u? can i b there 2?
Standard - b there in 30mins.
Poetic - b there qik as a hare.
Standard - can we go on a date?
Poetic - Wud be gr8 if we cud go on a date?
My gripe is ofcourse a foolish generalisation, as there are many sublimely talented folk out there fertilising the minds of the poetry hungry with brilliant work. Kudo's to them, the custodians of the artform. May they live long, and breed future generations of poetrarians (if that is the word for it).
The mist of rhyme it seems,
Is ryhmey and misty and screams,
Tittle-tattle and fiddle-faddle foolish fumbling fiends.
I'm as much to blame,
Stupid all the same,
Sincereless and stupendous suppose the sunny Sincity's insane.
Why don't I do it then?
I can't I bleat again,
Weirdo and worrying when the wily weather will wane.
Be gone the curse of fear,
Looking upon me with a sneer,
Quite the quarter and quiet queue to quaff at me be queer.
I'm all for more poetry in our lives. Though if I could, I'd totally eradicate text speak
ReplyDeleteHooray, a fellow poetrarian. I'm afraid however that text speak is here to stay. Rather sad that we are going down a path of having to sum up what we mean in 120 characters or less.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the visit. Poetry is an art form that is taken for granted.
ReplyDeleteIt can also be very efficient (contrary to what many of the naysayers claim)at conveying immense emotion, symbolism and thought. It can be soppy or sleek. It all comes down to how well you use the words and how deep you want to go. there's no limits and I can't write poetry to save my life.
Hi Ricardo,
ReplyDeleteAnd thanks to you too for your visit.
Poetry is something that is taking more of my interest lately. It's playful elimination of the rules of grammatical structure is rebellious, and who doesn't enjoy a little rebellion once in a while?
Hello Dan the Vespa Man,
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kind comments on my blog! As you know, poetry these days is not as cool as, say, gangster rap, so it's always nice to know that people other than my nan are reading me.
I don't know if I'm going to make 365 poems, but I'm pretty stoked to have 30 so far. And I'm amazed at the positive reaction I've been getting. (As opposed to having rocks and rotten fruit thrown at me).
So anyway, yes, thank you, means a lot.
-louise
Hi Louise... Your very welcome.
ReplyDeleteGangsta rap may be the flava of the day, but when you hear one rhyme about gettin' rich, smokin' fools, and poor respect for women, well, you've heard 'em all.
Good luck for the 365.