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More Poets

by Camy

We need more poets

like fresh pulled ale

tart and sweet upon rosy lips.

Rhyme and meter maybe hearty hale,

but meaning is the meat of the meal.


I sit and I ponder, I read again and wonder

what the lines I've just read really mean.

No! It's just about flowers and springtime and bowers,

though I see stigma and stamen, penile green.

Perhaps my mind's twisted, my ego is blistered

as I scrabble for a truth from those lines.

As I try to make sense I muse if I'm dense,

or was the poet inane not sublime?


In the U.K. we have a Poet Laureate who is appointed by the Monarch. The post used to be for life, but now it lasts ten years. At the moment our Poet Laureate is Carol Ann Duffy, an openly gay woman. Her poetry I understand and appreciate, unlike her predecessor Andrew Motion. His poetry I read (or listened to) and came to the conclusion I was a dunderhead. The Poet Laureate is supposed to be accessible and write poetry for the people. I'm one of 'the people' and his poetry didn't work for me.

My Favourite was John Betjeman (1906-1984):

Come, friendly bombs, and fall on Slough!

It isn't fit for humans now,

There isn't grass to graze a cow.

Swarm over, Death!

I think what I'm trying to say is that some poetry works and some doesn't. ;)

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I think what I'm trying to say is that some poetry works and some doesn't. ;)

Absolutely. It's difficult for poetry, or much of anything, really, to really resonate in your soul if you don't understand it. Scratcing you head isn't useful, either.

I can like the rhythm of a poem, and the way the words work together. I can like the mood it suggests, and the sentiment is evokes. But if the meaning isn't there, then it lacks the impact it could have if it were less enigmatic.

I think good poetry should have all those elements. But so, so much of it lacks clarity of meaning that I find myself not reading much of it.


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Bravo!! The first book of poetry I gave my wife was Betjeman's sonnets. Sometimes, decent poems have to bounce around in my ear and head a while before they yield something worthwhile. In the US, our poet laureate is appointed by the Library of Congress. For 2011, the PL is Philip Levine. WCW wrote remarkable poems, all the while practicing medicine. If you work at the craft enough, you usually find the mark once in a while. Fine poetry happens between a writer and a reader.

We should have more poets and we should hear them read. And, Camy, I shall always be on the lookout for "penile green."

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There once was a member of Awesome Dude

Who wandered around the hood

He wrote filthy stories

About his various sorties

And that's how we got awesome wood

I used to go to the local poetry society meetings until they cut back the reading time from 4 to 3 minutes for the poets. I think they thought that 50 or 60 poets all wanting to read their epics, would now be forced to at least limit the reading of their shopping or laundry lists as a work of poetic genius, and would edit some of the items out. I tried to tell them what would happen, I even wrote a poem about it.

I called it The Soul of Dissatisfaction

Anyway back to the poet's reading long lists of colours, and then sitting down looking really smug, as if they had conveyed something a clinically blind from birth person would now understand as a metaphor for a rainbow, or shadows in a sunset. If only! It speaks volumes to me that the poets have capitulated to the time constriction. Heaven help anyone who wanted to read their Rhyme of the Modern Wanderer or some such poem. I'm sorely tempted to recite, sorry I meant 'read' as they don't recite; read them the following poem just to watch their reaction, I'm sure some of them would like it;

An Aussie Gay.

by Desmond Rutherford



I'm gay,


I was waiting,

For puberty,

But Today,

I know,

I'm gay,


I'd pray,

If I wasn't,

An atheist,

Still to be gay,

At last,

With my mate,

Too happy,

To be straight-


As the current leader of this poetry forum, I'd like to encourage all forms of poetry, including the long, the short and the tall.

I think that poetry can be much like the music world's chamber compositions, from which develop the infinite resources and sounds of the full symphonic orchestra. The gentle rhyme becomes a ballad, and then an aria, and a chorus in a grand opera. The thoughtful sonnet sparks a dramatic play, and a play on words intones a chant that circles back to a solo rap with enlightened rhyme and reason. All poems are possible here. From Homeric Odysseys to even just a single lost chord of words that are inherently beauteous to hear or read.

And then there is poetry that exists because it just is.

Whether we admit it or not, poetry is very much an influence on the stories we write, and how we write them. Some use poetic form deliberately, some say they don't, and then you read their stories and marvel at the sheer poetic beauty contained in their writing and often in the form of the writing itself. You see poetry is in the trees, the scenes of our lives and can be contained in the spaces between the worlds of our lives. It can rhyme or not, in blank verse or just be a form of words that convey the contents of a thought or a life.

I should also point out that we're not just looking for gay or LGBTQ related poems. Poetry by its very nature must be liberated, free for the poets to express themselves.

Feel strongly about a subject; write a poem.

Feel the need to tell of your love; write a poem.

Feel moved by some event you have discovered in the human condition, then write it down, it is most likely a poem.

The poetic life is not much spoken of these days, and whilst its obvious I'm of a romantic, classicist nature, I admire those poets that explore the intellectual, the mechanics of poetry, and the unknown rule breakers of the modern poets. There will be no condemnation here, other than The Dudes very hospitable House Rules.

It would be encouraging though, if readers would leave a reply, even if it's just a thank you, for poems that you like. Poets need feeding too.

Finally a word of thanks to Camy and our very prolific new poet bi_janus for their contributions reinvigorating the Poet's Corner Forum.

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My "poetry" nearly always comes out as freeform modern stuff, instead of the lyrical rhyme and meter I wish I could get. Rarely, something will start with any traditional lyrical or poetic form.

I like wordplay, though. I like poetry, but I'm not as much an afficionado as I should be.

Lately, the past two months, I keep finding myself doing alliterations without conscious intent. That's odd. I'll write or say or think something, and find I'm put three or four words or more into alliteration without planning it. Odd. I'm not sure what's doing it. I don't mind it, though, because it at least says my brain's doing something with wordplay and poetic writing skills.

It's been great to see more poetry going on here.

Note: You can find my own attempts at poetry at:




Nearly all are co-hosted at both sites.

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Camy, your poem's great. -- Also liked the quote from William Carlos Williams a lot.

"Penile green." -- I'll be attempting to grow vegetables this year. I shall be on the voyeuristic lookout for flowers' exhibitionism and subtle fornications.... Uh....

Golly, and to think, if humans let it all hang out like that, even if it's good looking, they get frowned upon. Well, at least by the ones not so interested....

I think my libido's distracted. The poem really was not focused there. :shrugs:

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