Poemranker [Replying] Sat Nov 23 05:35:15 PST 2024

Replying to a comment on:

Like a sickly sweet smell from the depths of hell; your vision in my mind implores me, to fashion a death so vile and base, no mercy or peace can find thee. A villanous state my thoughts in dwell; enraged by your indignant apathy. How well you disquise your selfish intent, while the stench of your truth proves brashly. The blatent deceit in which you repeat, those ghastly yet savvy deeds; ignite me to smite thee, though no perilous warning impedes. Onward in lashing! Pure rage in the bashing! Your terror reign, incomplete! Cut down from your thrown and left all alone, to lie bleeding and wrought with defeat.

-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.

13-Aug-02/12:08 PM

Your idea of what 'd.a.' likes is so wildly inaccurate that even Poetie probably has a better idea. The fact is I have hardly said anything about what I like. Does this mean I don't like anything? Of course not. I could give a long list of what I like, but I think that gushing about one's interests and/or 'passions' is one of the most odious things a human being can do. Let's just say that, if what you just said is an accurate representation of your opinion, then what you think I like is almost nothing like what I like. I do not go overboard on praise. Perhaps I go overboard on criticism. You go overboard on praise. Maybe I'm missing something, but it seems to me that constantly feigning orgasm over poemes doesn't prove anything about your ability to appreciate poetry. Especially in your case, since 90% of the time you're fucked out of your brain and find everything either awful or divine. The trick is to get over your own sense of deliberately-self-induced 'child-like wonder'. I may write a book on all the bullshit I have in my brain just to get it out of the way. The central theme will be something to do with people's incessant clinging on to 'seeing the world like a child' and constantly telling themselves things are wonderful and special and magical. That is why people clap when a cripple wins a race. They want to live in a world in which things end up like in children's books. It makes them feel safe and happy. Part of this illusion is approving of everything that initially seems good, or even better than average.
This is a child's misapprehension. To write poetry about musty book shops is trite. It may evoke nostalgic feelings of childhood wonder, but then what doesn't? It doesn't make the poem any good. It is trite to write poetry about: sunny days, lost love, the futility of existence, etc, etc. Anything that evokes a sense of nostalgia for childhood is probably a bad poem, simply because the author concentrated on creating a vague longing rather than any actual message. This is good if done properly; however, even though it is usually not done properly, people still clamour about how beautiful it is. Your teachers have probably told you to make it 'real' when you write. How can you make poetry real? By saying the thing you want to say in the most genuine way you can; you should try to be as accurate as possible. Part of being accurate is shedding your set of cosy habits, among which are: the habit of believing your own hype, the habit of clinging on to good first impressions, the habit of believing that rush-of-pleasure-checmical-in-brain = beautiful and right and good and special and wonderful and childlike and a daisy being picked by a three year old in a sun hat who gives it to her mother and they drive to a pool party and laugh and then someone throws a brick at the child's head. I doubt anyone's still reading, but the real point I want to make is this: don't let the desire for good poetry let you believe that bad poetry is good.

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