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Discussion in 'Bad Dog Cafe' started by Torren61, Feb 23, 2021.
Well I don't like pottery.
And I dont like spelling, either.
I absolutely share your liking
@Torren61, if I had to find you a book of poetry that you liked or lose my job as a retired English teacher, I would try Charles Bukowski's Pleasures of the Damned.
The word poem-- I forget where I got this information, I think a book by John Ciardi--means something like "a thing made".
The umbrella of poetry is wide and tall. I can't imagine there is anyone who likes all of it, I know I don't, but I really think that anyone who doesn't like any of it has not looked for or found the right poems and poets. It's like the car salesman says, there's a butt for every seat.
By the way, poetry that has regular patterns of rhythm and rhyme is called lyric poetry. Lyrics are poetry.
Colorblind here. Pastels. I have no appreciation for Impressionist paintings as a result. But I still love looking at paintings. Certain greens and browns look that same too. Forest scenes are difficult.
I like my poetry quirky or messed up. Kinda like me I guess. A lot of it does not move me. But not everyone likes the same things. Ask my wife when I do an atonal music performance.
We like what we like when we find something we did not know we were looking for.
Bukowski . Always liked his stuff.
That's awful. I'm stealing it.
i like hip hop but i don't really like poetry. i'm not even really a big lyrics guy outside of hip hop. i'm open to liking poetry. but i find the style of most of what i've encountered is too sentimental for my taste. or too smug. i'm sure there's some genre out there that i'd like but i haven't found it.
13. Looking Forward
When I am grown to man's estate
I shall be very proud and great.
And tell the other girls and boy
Not to meddle with my toys.
- Robert Louis Stevenson from A Child’s Garden of Verses, 1885
It was my father's favorite pair of couplets and it contained a delicious irony. I love irony. Here's my favorite one-line irony:
"Now we've got them where they want us."
- Joe Walsh
I appreciate poetry and the skill required to produce such art, but I find that very little of it moves me. Dylan and Shakespeare are not exceptions. I guess it says more about my low-brow tastes and intellect that the only poem I can recite from memory is this one:
If you hear a panther, Don't anther- Odgen Nash
A lot of poetry hurts my brain
Most of it I can't retain
Or figure out just what it means
When words turn page to trampoline
I don’t like Mondays
I like some
I don’t like
When people performing it
Talk with this certain
And then I’m
Supposed to pretend
Their bit wasn’t just
And syllabic accents
In weird places
Like I didn’t see
Def Poetry Jam
20 years ago
I look at poetry like Jazz. I really dislike most of it, but I know there's some greatness there as well (Cohen and Bukowski come to mind).
For me, it's one thing to read it on a page. But when someone stands up and reads poetry, I find it incredibly vane that they expect us to listen. Automatically turns me off.
Of course this isn't much different than someone singing a song and expecting us to listen. That doesn't (automatically) turn me off. Hey, art is subjective.
Perhaps poetry has had the waters chummed with the prevalence of "slam" poetry. That's where university students angrily see how many words they can rhyme with "society?" (there's a question mark because much of the slam poetry I've heard is fraught with up-speak – so it sounds vane and full of doubt at the same time).
It's like jazz. Not all bad. But I find most of it is just someone more than a little too much in love with their own "voice".
I should've known you were a poet. Your feet sure show it. They are long fellows.
I like most posts in my threads because I like the person posting. Though that's not to say if a person did't get a "like", I don't like them.
I don’t need a weather vane to see which way the vanity blows. I can feel it in my veins.
I pronounce "poetry" like "putrid" without the "d".
shake and shake the ketchup bottle
first none'll come, and than a lot'll
hey look at that, I'm a poet and I'm not even aware of it
Nothing attracts the mustard from wieners
as much as the slacks just back from the cleaners
(Credit where credit is due- these are both attributed to Richard Armour)