tumors of the lips- calling the travelling pack of poets

[woody]

enjoy this forum as I do, skulking guiltily over many years without much useful contribution, I have, like a wallower in the dwindling hours of a great event, witnessed a tragic decline in spirit and honesty art in both the art and responses here.
these days the most active thread involve the poor butchering of a bleeding heart poet by wily packs of posters who ply their critiques with a caustic holy than thou pompous glee. It's like witnessing the circling of hyenas in the bone yard of a once great palace. And not at all in the spirit of the great man that we all come here to love and cherish.
I would prefer to see some genuine poetry by these big guns. I say lets see honesty; a true poem of the broken heart, a modern day Li Po reverie or a water colour of a blue bird.
This is a calling out to all posters (especially Geoferey, Manna, Sideways & the rest) to bring your best most typifying works, the ones you would stand by and have stand by you at the universes last round up and shakedown. I'm talking heart on the sleeve stuff, no ironic bullshit or humour, just honest art craft. This is a call out. I want to see hands and blood.

[Geoffrey]

woody wrote:
A: >It's like witnessing the circling of hyenas . . .
B: >I say lets see honesty . . .
C: >. . . at the universes last round up and shakedown.
D: >I'm talking heart on the sleeve stuff . . .


Sideways Sue was right. You gentlemen really DO struggle with apostrophes. If you want to learn (do you?) we can help you. Two of the above brief extracts have errors and two are quite correct. Can you identify them?

[woody]

any response that isn't a poem i will take as a sign of cowardice and emotional pusillanimity.
since feeling is first ... who pays any attention
to the syntax of things.... will never wholly kiss you

[Geoffrey]

woody wrote:
>any response that isn't a poem i will take as a sign of cowardice and emotional pusillanimity.
since feeling is first ... who pays any attention to the syntax of things.... will never wholly kiss you


Did not intend to hurt you. We must try to be gentle with each others' pride. I had not mentioned syntax, Woody; that has more to do with the grammatical arrangement of words rather than usage of the apostrophe. No need to reply to this. Hope we are not enemies.

[Cate]

Ahhhh but Woody I know the answer!!!!
It took months of Micheal beating me with a stick and Manna feeding me carrots, to get this. and now (no I haven't started my work on periods yet, still working on commas) somebody actually asks and you say not to answer.
Believe me Woody it's (ahh see) very rare for somebody to randomly ask which use of apostrophe is right!
I can't PM him, he doesn't have that box to click.
Ahhh....

[woody]

Did not intend to hurt you. We must try to be gentle with each others' pride. I had not mentioned syntax, Woody; that has more to do with the grammatical arrangement of words rather than usage of the apostrophe. No need to reply to this. Hope we are not enemies.

no not at all. i apologise for appearing irascible.

[woody]

Believe me Woody it's (ahh see) very rare for somebody to randomly ask which use of apostrophe is right!

on the contrary people ask me all the time. my response is the same- where is the poetry? i wait.

[Sideways]

Believe me Woody it's (ahh see) very rare for somebody to randomly ask which use of apostrophe is right!

on the contrary people ask me all the time. my response is the same- where is the poetry? i wait.

WHERE IS THE POETRY, I WAIT ?(asks Mr Woody) and here is my reply!!!!!!!!

The poetry is all around us
in the cord of an iron
in a person who is Uruguayan
in the steam of my press
in the pleats of my too short see-through dress
in the hole of my soul
and the parts of my hearts
in the goody
of your woody
and the hoover
of Ryan of Vancouver
but I read no poetreee
in the words of Angry Geoffreee
and the lines they dont translate
in the irrate state of Mrs Cate.

Love from Sue

(c) 2009 to Eternity

[anunitu]

Much as I hate to say this Sue, I kinda like this.


Anunitu

[Cate]

Dear Sue

I take offence to your assumption that I am a Mrs.
I am in fact a Ms. Although I do have a husband whom I keep and love well, I do not keep his name, nor does he keep mine {because it is Mine, mine mine mine} – this of course has nothing to do with the fact that I am an only child. It is of course a myth that only children have difficulty sharing …
Why are you touching my iron – no you can’t check out my board
you have your own – you don’t need to paw at mine ….
back off sister or I’ll thrash you with the cord

lots of love and kisses

Cate

Hi Woody - not ready to post heartfelt yet. I can't seem distance myself enough from such things to do revision - so all you would see is me naked and crying surrounded by muddled words. I hope you get a response though, you've listed some of my favorite writers here.

[Red Poppy]

Woody wrote:
"these days the most active thread involve the poor butchering of a bleeding heart poet by wily packs of posters who ply their critiques with a caustic holy than thou pompous glee. It's like witnessing the circling of hyenas in the bone yard of a once great palace. "

What a wonderful analogy and how true!

Geoffrey wrote:
"If you want to learn (do you?) we can help you. "

The question is, Geoffrey, do many of the circling hyaenas have anything much to teach, beyond parading their self-appointed importances?

As the late, lamented old codger would say - God bless!

[Geoffrey]

Red Poppy wrote:
>The question is, Geoffrey, do many of the circling hyaenas have anything much to teach, beyond parading their self-appointed importances?


unfortunately i possess not the talent to write poetry. yet even though my talent and imagination are poor, i do have a small idea of how a good poem should be. a good poem is like a man; it should never sit on anything so high that its legs are left dangling - always let its feet squarely and elegantly stay on the ground. a good poem will have hands that reach up and grab you by the throat, press its thumbs into your eyes as if they were sponges saturated with water. a good poem will make your pulse race faster than the hammering in a roman slave galley moving at ramming speed. your whole trembling body becomes restless and inco-ordinate, your brow clammy - and like a first-time shoplifter you feel a thousand cameras swooping upon your shoulders. you don't know where you are, if your existence is fate or an accident, if you prefer a bathtub or a shower, curtains or a venetian blind. all you know is that you wish to surrender, to lose control, to set free the primal urge within your soul and enjoy the exhilaration and the pleasure of being taken by force to a voluptious paradise beyond the boundaries of heaven!

[anunitu]

Geoffrey,

I would say you do seem to have a knack for writing, In just this small epistle I can detect your imagination and vision.
As to your wish for a poem to take you into a state of thrall, or just to elevate your state of existence into something
of a more spiritual level, I am afraid you might be in for a long wait. Those states tend to come in pill form, or something to be smoked. I have taken that journey, but not with the use of drugs, the spiritual path to approach that state is a difficult, and sometimes dangerous trip.

Good luck in your search.

Anunitu

[Geoffrey]

anunitu wrote:
>Geoffrey . . . In just this small epistle I can detect your imagination and vision.


you are a charitable man, and your generosity warming - even though what you write is not true. for this is not a thinking person, and i possess no fantasy. in fact, i almost never have anything to say. it is probably time to disappear again, but perhaps in a few months a constellation of circumstances and coincidences will bring me here again, as is what usually happens. if so, i hope you will still be here. thank you, anunitu - and farewell for now.

[Sideways]

anunitu wrote:
>Geoffrey . . . In just this small epistle I can detect your imagination and vision.


you are a charitable man, and your generosity warming - even though what you write is not true. for this is not a thinking person, and i possess no fantasy. in fact, i almost never have anything to say. it is probably time to disappear again, but perhaps in a few months a constellation of circumstances and coincidences will bring me here again, as is what usually happens. if so, i hope you will still be here. thank you, anunitu - and farewell for now.

Dear Geoffrey, no wonder everyone here loves you (although please note that none of the Charlatan "women" here have any basic ironing skills, let alone to Regional Standard, although I don't like to boast, why would anyone ever care about them compared to me, crazeeeee!!!) and we know you are a beginner struggling writer and that you haven't learnt yet to make your heart speak. Sometimes you are using new and original language with new and original idea. PLEASE STOP THIS!!! We don't have new ironing technicks revealed by ordinary people. oh no! maybe Gifted Special Ones (like me, blush blush!!) . So I think you can write a poem if you open your heart or just copy Antonio and Woodye and Ryan From Vancouver and use their cliches (but don't tell anyone!!!) and add Heart and Soul words and the Muse will come, oh yes it will. I know you are a humble person Geoffrey and have so much to be humble of indeed. Don't be scared to come back here. Remember even real writers like Antonio, Woodeye and Ryan From Vancouver started at the beginning and then rhymed through the middle before they reached