Someone write...

Nast

Nah, I'm just a slacker, I think I need motivation more than inspiration. And I don't have time for other people...
-D

Nast

A tree in a desert; bleak,
Pours emotion from it's pores like musical notes,
Drawing the attenion of the voice,
of all that can be.

They will come,
And come and come and come,
'cause salivating pon the clouds,
hasn't satisfied the need.

Creatures of character will crawl,
Beasts of narrative will race,
Ghosts of inspiration will soar,
and the branches will reach;

For them.

Nast

If you all haven't noticed, satisfaction seems to be a big theme in my poetry of late.

-Nasty

Nast

That should change when I find my muse again. Then I will pour more

http://forums.pearljam.com/showthread.php?t=33616

upon you all...

Kwyjibo

Nasts. here's a poem I wrote that meets your (strange) criteria of not 1st person, I posted it here in another thread but whatev.

mind fucked

he's got this little problem
a cotton swab went too deep
consonants look like vowels
he sees demon clowns in sleep

there's a giant hole in wall of his room
it sucks him in; distorts his features
his fingers stretch and teeth pop out
he's naked and shaking, he's naked and shaking

a man with no mouth screams in his face
he can't close his eyes
because they've been taped
he can't look away, he can't look away

he wakes up from his dream.
he's on a gurney.
a blood soaked doctor is singing gospel hymnals
his stethoscope is cold, really cold.

Felicity

呼
吸
苦
夜
星
盖
和
保

浩
大
和
小

FinsburyParkCarrots

Kwyjibo wrote:

Nasts. here's a poem I wrote that meets your (strange) criteria of not 1st person, I posted it here in another thread but whatev.

mind fucked

he's got this little problem
a cotton swab went too deep
consonants look like vowels
he sees demon clowns in sleep

there's a giant hole in wall of his room
it sucks him in; distorts his features
his fingers stretch and teeth pop out
he's naked and shaking, he's naked and shaking

a man with no mouth screams in his face
he can't close his eyes
because they've been taped
he can't look away, he can't look away

he wakes up from his dream.
he's on a gurney.
a blood soaked doctor is singing gospel hymnals
his stethoscope is cold, really cold.

I think the criteria also excluded poems about other people.

By the way, I like the dreamlike quality of this poem, produced in clear language. A lesser writer would have used all sorts of flowery language to try to get the same jarring effect. The present tense is handled with skill and dynamic, and the narrative holds the reader's attention. Well done.

Nast

Kwyjibo wrote:

Nasts. here's a poem I wrote that meets your (strange) criteria of not 1st person, I posted it here in another thread but whatev.

mind fucked

he's got this little problem
a cotton swab went too deep
consonants look like vowels
he sees demon clowns in sleep

there's a giant hole in wall of his room
it sucks him in; distorts his features
his fingers stretch and teeth pop out
he's naked and shaking, he's naked and shaking

a man with no mouth screams in his face
he can't close his eyes
because they've been taped
he can't look away, he can't look away

he wakes up from his dream.
he's on a gurney.
a blood soaked doctor is singing gospel hymnals
his stethoscope is cold, really cold.

It's close Kwyjibo... it can stil be read as though it's an experience the author had though. Every second line starts with "he" or "his" and may as well just say "me" and "mine" I like the way Fin described it though; " A lesser writer would have used all sorts of flowery language" I do it a lot myself... mostly in describing something and thinking one word and one word alone should be able to do that.

Back to your poem though it becomes first person whether you've intended or not "his stethoscope is cold, really cold"

FinsburyParkCarrots

We could set a task: To write a poem that features no instance of the first, second or third persons singular but, though tending to abstraction in language actually describes vital human experience and consciousness. How might one describe strong emotions without identifying any speakers?

That would be tough, for what voice is truly objective and devoid of standpoint? How might one attempt to get that quality of perspectival neutrality? One could leave out adjectives and adverbs that express value judgments, for example.

I only wish I had the time to join in!

Nast

We should also set a length for the poem... to make it harder while we're at it. At least a length range... longer than an inch... but not a meter. (Yes I am Canadian)

Nast

"At home,
drawing pictures,
Of mountaintops,
With him on top,
Lemon yellow sun,
Arms raised in a V,
And the dead lay in pools of maroon below..."

The person referred to here... is only mentioned as a part of his own design... a part of something he created himself.

Nast

Would it not seem different:

He's at home,
He's drawing pictures,
of mountaintops,
with him on top,
lemon yellow sun,
his arms raised in a V
the dead lay...

Nast

Hope you don't mine Kwyjibo...

Kwyjibo wrote:

mind fucked

got this little problem
cotton swab went too deep
consonants like vowels
demon clowns in sleep

there's a giant hole in the wall of his room
sucks him in; distorts his features
fingers stretch and teeth pop out
naked and shaking, naked and shaking

a man with no mouth screams in his face
can't close his eyes
they've been taped
can't look away, can't look away

wakes up from the dream
a gurney
and a blood soaked doctor singing gospel hymnals
a cold stethoscope, really cold.

Ms. Haiku

Nast wrote:

And I'm not feeling inspired.

When I'm not inspired I listen to Flamenco music and look at books of photographs. Try Dorothea Lange, Tina Modotti, and Walker Evans photographs. Or I read the lyrics of songwriters I respect, and listen to their music. Or I just give up and watch a movie while needlepointing. I don't think there is anything with being uninspired as long as it's temporary. Long term apathy results in boring party conversations.

pearlmutt

l(a

le
af
fa
ll

s)
one
l

iness



by ee cummings

It was my whoa moment. I mean there it is. The image in the print, the image in the imagery, the image in the word loneliness, one leaf falls, one, one, one all over the place. You can't beat that with any stick (schtick).

God bless ee cummings for trumping TS Eliot in my list of best poets. ee is the best for me.

I think it meets your criteria. Maybe. That's for you to decide. I think.

There is no other poet that will ever compare to him in any of my books.

Kwyjibo

Nast: taking out the articles doesn't change the person of a poem

changing 'he's got a problem' to 'got a problem' changes it out of third and into 1st person. The 'I' is just implied.

callisto

in the end there is nothing but the slavery we live under within ourselves
when the free bird fly's she takes herself to flight
through the clouds and on into the bright new dawn of a new day.

fate is waiting around the corner from the crossroads of her life
direction fails to take control and yet.
hope always finds a way to lead her home.

in the end she has no one but herself
she can live for today or i can die for the right to have a tomorrow
when the starlight falls upon darkened minds
all that she has is the innocence of a childhood

right above wrong .....good above evil
love above hate........life above death

she waits and wonders if its all worth it.

but in the end................she kissed the sky and smiled.

maybe tomorrow has her answer.

best wishes
jim
http://www.callisto.tv

Nast

So how do we change a poem to no-Person perspective...

-Nast

Kwyjibo

It's kind of a cliche thing for me to say. But watch for abstractions and cliches callisto.

Nast

I'll write something today.

It won't be amazing.

But hopefully you all can constructively criticize it...



-D