Poem Bashing

[Veldrin]

I was reading through various topics where people posted poems. The majority of them were pessimistic. Now I don't particularly care what you write until you start posting it around the parts of the forum I frequent. Ok back to the thing about pessimism. All you people write is garbage about how life is so unfair and you have such a crap life your need to kill yourself rises a little each day. I was just wondering why don't you kill yourself then? Are you afraid to? Then that means you want to live, so your life can't be so bad if you still want to live it. I mean its not like your living in a third world country making bracelets that will sell for 25cents here, and working 8 hours a day to make less then one american penny.
There are some exceptions that I dont mind reading. Like the other day someone posted that pie poem. I loved it becuase of the simplicity and easy to follow rhyme. What I guess I am trying to say is if you are going to make a poem, and you feel the need to post it here, put some thought into it. Its not much to ask really. I know this topic probably wont make anyone stop posting crap, but it's something that needed to be said.

[Flint the Dwarf]

Agreed.

[jonmartensen]

:\

[Kracus]

Yea I dislike the constant pessimistic. Especially from people who are in the USA. Anyway, here's a good poem:

I wander'd lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

[Veldrin]

Here is a great poem by Robert Frost that I hope everyone has read before.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

[Lyrs]

Let them write 'em,
they need an outlet for their creative emotionalism.

[Trident]

*coughs, raises hand* Okay, as an English major, I can tell you that, in general, most great literature covers only two things: sex and death. (We've even had conversations about this subject in Lit classes...) I mean, I agree, depressing poetry is... uhm... blah. But life in general is depressing. Look at the world, peoples.

It's more of a problem--and, admittedly, I haven't read most of these poems which are being discussed, so I have no idea how they are--when people post very angsty poems. Most of those aren't worth reading, as they focus on personal problems. There's a difference between personal and literary poetry. I dunno... I have poems which could be polished and published and poems which I wouldn't show even my best friends...

[)v(ajin Koji]

ok then here's something i had to do for my A level English lang/lit class. It's not angsty.....although the second half is directed at a teacher at my school:

Education?


Rows of disciplined lines. Freely dressed captives
Shackled to attention, heads dart from up to down
Taking what they dare to jot from the words of
Authority.

Silence insisted, education demands a loss of liberty.
As a trudging band falls into line within walls of
Learning, some sun shines shattered bars of luminosity
It’s not time.

Excuses never true, a shadow of suspicion
Hangs under every word, you will never be forgotten
Even in forgiveness and praise and friendship and
Achievement.

Later, inspection. Everyone is here, no one leaves.
Sickness accounted, yet not comprehended.
Lost in crimson, educator wields verbal
Incarceration.

Recreation slayer, battle lost to incomprehension.
“Not taken seriously” words of insanity, he should listen
To himself.

Where is the “Education”?

[Rozard]

Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?

    Does it dry up
    like a raisin in the sun?
    Or fester like a sore--
    And then run?
    Does it stink like rotten meat?
    Or crust and sugar over--
    like a syrupy sweet?

    Maybe it just sags
    like a heavy load.

    Or does it explode?

                                        Langston Hughes (1902-1967)

[Otohiko]

If I write a poem will you love me, too?