menulis Club
gabung
Fanpop
New Post
Explore Fanpop
posted by Cinders
I've been slowly but steadily coming to the conclusion that poetry as an art form is quickly losing its flavor amongst the iPod generation. And I'm not talking about contemporary poets who don't get read oleh the masses, because as Gertrude Stein would say, "Those who are creating the modern composition authentically are naturally only of importance when they are dead because oleh that time the modern composition having become past is classified and the keterangan of it is classical. That is the reason why the creator of the new composition in the arts is an outlaw until he is a classic." Or, in other words, a poet only matters after his work has been deemed a classic. This has occurred plenty of times in history. The only real audience for contemporary poets is other poets.

No, I am not worried about the contemporary poets so much as I am worried about the classics.

As a lover of poetry myself, I signed up for a Modern poetry class because I thought it would be fun to read some of the classic modernists and discuss them with a group of fellow poetry enthusiasts. Now, as a young American with friends of varying interest, I could already tell that the majority of young America couldn't give a flying monkey about poetry. Most of these folks also couldn't care less for literature in general. English majors and avid readers tend to be different. English majors and avid readers are supposed to enjoy literature in general. English majors and avid readers are, mostly, supposed to read at least some poetry.

I learned from a brief chat with my professor that "Modern Poetry" is rarely offered, because little interest is shown in it. And, granted, this was a summer course, but summers at the universitas of Washington tend to be quite busy with a bunch of bustling students trying to pack in a few extra credits to graduate early, atau to catch up with their graduating class. Including myself, there were three official students of Modern Poetry, and one auditor, who was a very interesting retiree and poetry-lover.

Speaking to the other two students my age, I quickly learned two things about English majors at the universitas of Washington: A) That even if they liked literature, most of the time they did not like and, to some extent, even loathed poetry. And B) That an English major is not required to take any classes in poetry at all, and can easily obtain a degree without ever having to look at a single poem.

Now, some may recall that even I expressed frustration with the poetry we read in the the chat, atau complained about all the essays I was menulis for the class, but in truth I actually rather quite enjoyed it, for all my complaining. But I quickly learned a new thing, about my generation in general (not just English majors). And that is that even a well-read person who knows exactly who you're talking about when anda mention Hemingway, has no idea who anda mean when anda casually mention Stein in the same sentence, even though Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein were not only contemporaries, but good friends.

To my everyday group of high school graduate friends, I throw out names like "Harper Lee," "J.D. Salinger," "F. Scott Fitzgerald," and even occasionally "Albert Camus," "Joseph Conrad," atau "Chinua Achebe," they know who I'm talking about because the novels of these authors were required membaca in their high school.

If, to the same group of high school graduate friends, I toss out names like "William Carlos Williams," "Wallace Stevens," "Elizabeth Bishop," atau even "T. S. Eliot," "Ezra Pound," atau "W. B. Yeats," they tend to stare at me blankly.

Why is this, I ask? Why is it that the great novelists of the nineteenth and twentieth century are recognized oleh my generation, but not the poets? Why do we feel this vague sense of, "Oh, I should know who he is... Wasn't he black?" when we hear the name "Langston Hughes"? Or, "Dang, 'Gertrude Stein,' she sounds super familiar... Wasn't she a lesbian?"

A cepat, swift cari of fanpop for the major contributors to the modernist canon revealed that the only mentions of any of these names (Williams, Stevens, Bishop, Eliot, Pound, Yeats, Hughes, and Stein) reveal nothing, atau if something, an artikel in which I alluded and/or quoted one of them.

I published an artikel centering around Hughes' poem the other hari in hopes to stir up a little discussion on the poem. The poem itself was rather incendiary at the time, and some may consider it to be offensive still, which was exactly what I wanted to discuss. It received six ratings, which I was pleased with, and not a single comment.

So this is my pertanyaan that I am posing to you, writers and poets: Did anda recognize any of the names I dropped in this article? If anda did, can anda name one poem any of them wrote? Can anda name two? If anda can name three, I may have to get down on one knee and propose. Because even amongst English majors, I've found, poetry is not necessarily a welcome topic of conversation.

Now, why is this? Is poetry too dry for our short attention spans these days? It has been argued that artists such as John Lennon, Joni Mitchell and Don McLean were the real poets of their generation, and were paralleled with poets like Allan Ginsberg of the Beat Generation. So if this is the case, does that mean I'm wrong? What if poetry isn't dying? What if it's just slowly evolving into brand new forms, just like us? What if our poetry is our music? Song lyrics are lebih often quoted oleh teens than any classical lyric. Regardless of whether atau not a poem of the canon is timeless atau period-specific, it would seem that most of the iPod's generation's interest is in the world, and subsequently poetry of music. If these populer lyrics were written, atau read, and not sung, would they still be popular?

And if they remained popular, why song lyrics and not other poetry? What makes, for exampled, Jason Mraz's "If it's a broken part, replace it/If it's a broken arm then brace it/If it's a broken jantung then face it," any lebih interesting than Don McLean's, "The silver thorn on the bloody rose/Lay crushed and broken on the virgin snow" atau any lebih interesting than Wallace Stevens' "People are not going/To dream of baboons and periwinkles./Only, here and there, an old sailor,/Drunk and asleep in his boots,/Catches tigers/In red weather." (Quotes and artists/poets selected at my discretion. From "Details in the Fabric," "Vincent," and "Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock" respectively).

Hm... It's all very tricky, isn't it? I asked my uncle this pertanyaan earlier, and he suggested that it was because musik was lebih readily accessible to folks nowadays because it's everywhere anda turn. Poetry, not so much.

So what do anda guys think? Are anda a fan of the classic poets? Are anda a fan of poets in general? Do anda prefer song lyrics, atau written poetry? atau do anda think they are apples and oranges? Is poetry dying, atau is it just changing to meet the needs of the rapidly shrinking attention span? If it is changing, is it a good thing? Will people still study the modernists (Eliot, Pound, Stein) in the future, atau will their work slowly fade into obscurity?

Talk to me! I would cinta to dialog about this.
posted by InvadaMiz
Eleven tahun old twins Miyu and Nakku have been begging their mother for weeks about checking out the attic, their mother finally berkata yes during week four.The twins raced up the spiral staircase to the attic.They found old toys and books, then Miyu found a small crawl luar angkasa door.
"Nakku!Nakku!Come here!"Miyu called out to her brother.Nakku ran over and saw the door she pointed at.
"Let's see what's inside Miyu."Nakku suggested, Miyu nodded rapidly and reached for the door.Nakku grabbed her hand, then looked at her like she was crazy.
"Miyu, let me open it first."Nakku said.He yanked the door open,...
continue reading...
posted by PeterPansgirl12
Ok, heres a story I've had in my head for a while...

I haunt her, I know I shouldn't. Being dead is boring. It's not like I chose death. Death just happened.

I was a normal seventeen tahun old guy, ready to start collge. Then, I saved her life. She means everything to me.
I cinta everything about her. Her hair, her smile, her lips, her body, her laugh, her snort, her mad face, her happy face, her flirty face, her attitude.

I cinta her.

That's why I pushed her out of the way when the murderer shot the gun. That's why I saved her life.

Now, I haunt her. I watch her every menit of everyday, as a ghost....
continue reading...
posted by werewolflover
Caitlin Tresp moved to my small town in Tennessee when we were in fourth grade,which was two years ago.This is her story so far.
So,she moved here in fourth grade.She was in my class.It was her first day,and she was already being bullied.By everyone.Ecxept for my friends and I.Jessica,Molly,Chyanne,Tori and me.It was like she was already part of the group.We all got along greatly.But later in the year,Jessica and Caitlin got in a fight at recess.When we went back inside,we all had to talk to our teacher,Mrs.McDonald.By the end of the dayit was all sorted out...or so I thought.For the rest...
continue reading...
posted by tiny_princess
hiiiiiii 3
this is my very first time to write an artikel here in fanpop
,,,,
I`m in cinta with menulis poems . In fact , i believe that words can do lebih . > that`s why my poems are my life !!!
,,,,
this is a poem which was written with my hamble keyboard =) hope anda all like it =)

~~ a letter to my dear prince ~~

Dear prince,
I`m tired of living in this unusual life
My diary
Took me to an old distain memory
when I become your wife
I don`t know why ?!!
Every good memory has became whiter then white
Except the hari I saw anda
You`re right
Special memories always colored with special liquids
But which kind...
continue reading...
posted by kateeuy
Alise opened her eyes on a beautiful Thursday morning. As she sat up, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and brushed through her long black hair with the tips of her fingernails. She looked at the time on her IPod dock. “Its 7:30, I’m late” yelled Alise as she jumped out of tempat tidur and ran to her wardrobe. She pulled out a white button-up blus and a green tartan skirt. She opened the drawers underneath and pulled out a pair of black stockings. Alise quickly go dressed and packed her country road bag. She lived at halaman awal with her aunty, uncle and her cousin Eliza. Eliza rushed downstairs and...
continue reading...
added by ZekiYuro
added by sapherequeen
added by Andressa_Weld
posted by Bookworm_Mint
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chaper 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
" Mom, why did anda and Papa get divorced?" asked Lydia. Miss. Pheonix sighed. She waited a few detik till she replied," Sweet heart, if I tell you, anda shall not tell anyone ok?" Lydia nodded."Well it's a pretty simple story. I'll try to tell it in a short way as possible. Papa and I got divorced beacausehe fell in cinta with another girl." berkata Miss. Pheonix. "But Mother! I'm old enough to know more!" pleaded Lydia. Ms. Pheonix shook her head slowly. Lydia left the room quietly and slowly walked to her room. Lydia was already 16 now and her mom thought she still wasn't mature enough. She sat on her bed. Suddenly, a girl appeared to her. "Who are you? Why are anda here?" asked Lydia. "I'm Enchantical Essence. A fairy to be exact.Who are you?" berkata the girl."I'm Lydia Pheonix. Now why are anda in my room?!"........
TO BE CONTINUED
added by axemnas
added by HarryPLover
posted by vanelandsisters
Told by: Amelia-Rose J. Aleena


Chapter 1: The First Reunited Morning

I woke up and saw that my four siblings were awake, too. I smiled and told them, "Good morning, my royal siblings!" My little brother, Tails, responded, "Good morning, sis." My brother, Sonic, was just like, "Mornin'." My sister, Sonia, glared at him and said, "Sonic! (turned toward me) Good morning, Amy." We all looked at our brother, Manic, who was still in his bed. He said, kind of weakly, "Morning? Already guys?" We gave him a look that meant, 'yes, now get up, lazy bones!' Tails threatened to spin our brother out of bed...
continue reading...
    "I cinta you. Will anda be my girlfriend?" an unknown boy has ask me. I was struck with shock that I have a dumb look on my face.
    "O-o-of c-course I will. I cinta anda too." Wait. What?! What am I saying! Why the heck do I want to be this boy girlfriend?! Why am I in cinta with him?! Most importantly, WHO THE HECK IS THIS BOY?!
    Ouch! I open my eyes, gazing up at the bumpy, white ceiling. Oh so all of that was just a dream. I sigh with relief but feeling disappointed at the same time. Awwww and here I thought someone finally confessed...
continue reading...
added by IloveMyLord
posted by Free_Spirit
Me" okay, well this is a complete tester. I'm just posting the start of my story on here, just to get some opinions. I don't think i will post the rest of it on here, unless people ask me too =) anyway i would cinta some feedback, especially critism, that probably sounds weird, but honestly anda learn from critisism. anyway i'm rambling here.

I sighed, and stared out the window. The sun was glaring down, and it looked sweltering outside. For once I actually wanted to stay in the classroom, the nice cool air conditioner never looked better.

I glanced over to the tatty metal box that was somehow...
continue reading...
posted by Hades332
CHAPTER 1
A cloaked teen age girl stood atop a grassy hill, the wind making her jubah sway in the breeze. Her metal scythe in hand she walked down the bukit, hill to the small town below. A sign came to her sight.
Welcome to CrowBay
Tennesee
Population: 213

The girl rolled her eyes and continued her path. She had named this town. 300 years ago. The murder of crows sitting on a sicamore pohon looked at her and, amazingly, seemed to bow.
The metal scythe clinked against the road as she walked down it. A large SUV turned a corner coming straight for her. The blonde woman looked up and saw her. Her eyes...
continue reading...
posted by SpellsOfBelief
Hi, These Are Spells That Are Most Likely To Work! I Didn't Make Them But I Could Answer A Few pertanyaan If anda komentar Them Below ;) I Give Full Credit To The Founder Of These Spells.

Anyways There Will Be Spells To Become A Mermaid, Werewolf, Vampire And Angel!

Mermaid #1
=====================
*I Have Tried It And I Haven't Got My Tail Yet After 2 Days But I Will Soon!*

Witches of the sea and air, Please listen as i call upon thee, There is a wish that i most desire. A mermaid when wet, A human when dry. A tail of *Whatever warna anda want* is what i choose. The power of *Whatever power anda want...
continue reading...
posted by RuBB3rDuckie
Why?
Why is your touch so new?
Why is it so fresh?
Its not like anda have'nt touched me before.
So why do I feel so shiny, so new?
Is it because I now feel this way?
Or is it because anda do to?
We've hugged before.
But never, never, have i missed it, so much before.
I want to ciuman you,
and never let it stop.
I want to hold you,
and never let anda go.
I want to finish all your sentences.
I want to complete all your goals.
Why?
Why?
Why?

Because.
Because, now I'm touching anda with new eyes, with different hands.
The hands of lover not just a friend.
Because my hands have a loving touch.
Yeah I touched anda before, with...
continue reading...
A/N: WARNING! SEX SCENE BUT NOT THAT TYPE OF SEX BECAUSE I GET WELL, UNWELL OF THAT BUT STILL READABLE! ALSO, THIS CHAPTER HAD A VERY IMPORTANT ENDING, I THINK.

Chapter Thirteen

When Jamie and Sean got inside Jamie’s home, put the bags of food on the dapur counter, put Jake in his playpen and gave him a toy to play with, and the moment they saw a smiling Jake and completely ignoring them oleh admiring his toy, Jamie and Sean grinned at each other and to get it started, they ran upstairs to Jamie’s bedroom and closed the door.

The moment they got inside, Jamie got rid of Sean’s light blue...
continue reading...