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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.
Those Who Tell Stories Rule Society oleh Jason Satterlund via FilmCourage.com.
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menulis The cinta Interest Character oleh CSUN Professor Eric Edson [Screenwriting Masterclass] via FilmCourage.com.
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99% Of Screenplays Are Rejected After The First Scene oleh Corey Mandell via FilmCourage.com.
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posted by Epismatic
The Man With No Eyes Collection (6): Dream



A crystallized life, on the bright TV screen,

But I’ve finally broken away from the dream,

And into the warm embrace of your esteem.

The stage that I left disappears from my mind,

Like suddenly being engulfed oleh sunshine,

I am truly alive, for the very first time,

All at once, let me sing, let me cry!

‘Til it bursts,

From my lungs, like a child,

Let me smile ‘til it hurts!

Let the blue of the morning

Strike my tearful eyes,

I still don’t know how,

I still don’t know why,

(I still fear this life may yet be a lie,)

But even if this world is the true dream, I want to play out this beautiful scene.


Here it is, the last in the Man With No Eyes Collection! I wanted to complete this on a pleasant note, give the guy some mercy.
added by SymmaGirl2
posted by hgfan5602
I just started going on the path where my life had no light. I missed everyone from our school who graduated, and I really had many amazing friends there. friends who gave me memories that lasted forever...friends who helped me out when things got bad...friends who were always there for me. I know, however, that they will always continue to be in my heart, even as they went away from me. If they never come back, they will still have left hand prints on my jantung that will never be washed away. Life without the light makes me feel so lonely...like a vagabond on the streets with no home...like an eagle with no prey...like me with no one to cry with. However sad this situation I find myself in...I still know that life will go on...and I must continue to strive to be the best I can be. Even without the warmth of my friends close by, I know that they will always be oleh my side even if they are not with me. All my friends are the light in my life.
posted by EmoKidSteven
The noise,
buzzing and buzzing in my ears.
It's just not right,
anda think anda are so bright,
saying anda buzz because anda care.
But it's so unfair.
I don't need your concern,
the best way anda can tampil anda care,
is to leave me alone.
Why can't anda understand?
Have anda tried to understand?
Do I really expect anda to understand?
This is not a teenage problem,
the excuse anda uses so often,
This is about my freedom.
anda think I don't know anything,
anda think I am naive and innocent.
But things are so different.
anda think because anda are older,
anda know lebih than we do,
That’s not true.
The world has changed,
We are not the fairy tales that sing,
we are the ones who could take our lives in a blink.
No, anda are lying to yourself,
blocking the truth that would make anda knelt
posted by I_love_Mikey
It would be nice if the world worked like a remote.

Where, if anda were in a bad situation, anda could pause it, and still keep moving yourself.
Where, if anda happened to be in a bad situation, anda could press “pause” and think of what to do next.
Where anda could completely abandon certain aspects of life, like selecting a different episode.
But, if anda skip an episode, anda don’t learn what anda need to learn from it, and anda get confused on the selanjutnya one. You’ll be behind, and unable to catch back up. Because anda just can’t stand to watch that episode that comes first.
It’d be nice if we...
continue reading...
added by ScreamoGirl
I look out
Into the crowd
Looking for you
Hoping to see you

I search
And search
But can’t find
Your face

In all the crowd
The one person
I wanted to see
I couldn’t see

I was left
With my disappointment
As I begin to think
Of all the times
You’ve broken your word

But then
I should have known
anda never stayed
Unless anda profited

anda never were
A real dad
Never has been
Never will

I look out
In the crowd
Hoping against hope
That anda will be there

But I shouldn't even bother
I'm a nobody
Someone anda never loved
Someone anda don't even know

Maybe someday
I'll learn
That all I get from you
Is broken promises
Half truths
And utter disappointments

So now I say good bye to it all
The hurt and anger
My disappointment
And you
posted by dragonsmemory
"You'll never get the secret from me!" The monsters' eyes gleamed. They wanted me to yell. It was a sign of my weakening resolve. I lowered my voice. "The secret is worthless to anda unless anda know where they are. Without them, you'll be trapped." None of us in the small chamber knew who was bluffing and who wasn't.
"We will get the secrets. Do not worry about that. Your 'friends' helped us lebih than they could realize," a large black…thing said. Its eyes gleamed yellow. Not yellow like the sun, but yellow like the foulest thing ever seen. Another spoke up.
"What is in this case? anda act like it contains something of value. Is the secret in there?"
"That's for me to know, and anda to spend the rest of your lives guessing. The secret is going back where it belongs. Tonight. Once it's there, it will be forever beyond your reach."


And that is where I stop. If I get at least ten favorable comments, I'll write more. And be honest.
posted by iluvharrysomuch
Dear diary
Today was my first tanggal with Oisin. It is kind-of wierd going out with your best friend. So, we went to tagihan, dun Drum shopping centre. Then we went to see a movie, and then headed over to hes place. Then Olivia called and asked to go round to talk about girl stuff. I gave Oisin a little ciuman good-bye. Olivia was worrying that Sean might be cheating on her. I didn't know what to say.
Lucy xx



Tell me what anda think. Rate, comment, tell me what should happen next. is it bad?!?
“I can’t even remember why I chose to marry you!” She yelled. Her beautiful face filled with anger, those sparkling brown eyes that I have loved since hari one, bore into me with no affection. She had berkata them, the words I never wanted to hear.
The fight had been going on for an jam now and I started to yell back, I could no longer control myself. Our first real fight in five years. I knew she would be over it soon and that big bright smile will light up her face, but I was overwhelmed too. I was hurt. But I stopped myself.
There were no lights on in our house; the outside light had...
continue reading...
posted by Ichigo127
I wrote it once when i was down in the dumps =) menulis helps....so if you're sad, Write....it's an easy way to let it all out =D
so, Here goes:
Facades. That’s something everyone has. Some may appear to be tough and cool, others will be cute and delicate but in reality, they’re all same. Pretending to be someone else, someone they’re not but someone they want to be. They’ll pretend to be living, but inside, they’re dead, full of shattered feelings.
Even the smallest acts in this life forces our facades upon us. Someone higher up will insult us and we’ll appear to be sorry and say...
continue reading...
added by ZekiYuro
Heres a song about my boyfriend and his last ex enjoy

Hey, I heard your girlfriend had a fight with you,

She is a very crazy cheerleader,

She thinks she can fool everyone but she is wrong,

She can't fool me because I seen her bad soul,

She already fooled anda but she haven't fool me,

I seen anda smile everytime anda walked up to me,

I never seen anda smile in days since she showed,

I know what she is been doing behind your back,

I got your back since we were so small,

You walked me halaman awal and always stay oleh my side,

She don't cinta anda like I do,

She don't cinta anda like I do,

She don't cinta anda like I do,

Her...
continue reading...
added by arun_kumar203
posted by kayleebabee
Where did it all go wrong
what made us fall apart
I was so caught up in a dizzy
spin of fantasies
I didn't even notice.

Baby please I'm sorry
I know we had a bad run
but i know we can make
this thing work

There are lines drawn
and Ive crossed them
anda made no attempt to stop me
In fact anda probably welcomed it.

I've crossed the bridge
now i must stand and
watch it burn
theres no going back now.

I've done some real bad things
in my past, some to others
mostly to myself, racked woth guilt
but i must soldier on
Because ...
The bridge is burnt
I stood and watched it burn
No going back, no backing out...
I've crossed the line
Im in too deep
far too deep
in cinta with you.
posted by Bella_Swan3
A/N: Okay, so this was an idea that pestered me. Let me know if I should continue.

Taylor paced the length of her quarters. Being unable to sleep was, ironically, a tiresome experience.

She had been a vampire for less than ten years, and remembered nothing of her life as a human. In her mind, it was simply an odd void, like the only way to sense it's presence was from it's very absence.

Tomorrow, the moon would be the smallest crescent, and she would be forced to hunt, along with every other vampire there. To vampires, the moon always looked the same. It was only when humans saw it that way too, would they need to hunt.

Resisting was futile, Taylor knew. She had tried every time and failed. The pain would be worse than she could manage. Than anyone could.

She sank to the floor against the wall, and melted into the shadows.