Saturday, 31 December 2011

A Message from Your Heart / Help / Poetry / Please

I have to compare/contrast two poems in a paper. The two are Herman Melville’s, “An Uninscribed Monument,” and Walt Whitman’s, “As Toilsome I Wander’d Virginia’s Woods.” I need help in understanding the literary devices used, describing the sounds of the poem, and the meanings of the poem. Thanks for your help! 1. What poetic devices has the poet used in the last two lines of the poem? For what effect do you think he used them?
2. What statement does the poem make about poetry? i'm writing a poem for a girl that i like and i need something that rhymes with "thunder dance"

Open Question: Can you help me with my poetry presentation on “My Last Duchess”? wow. Complete awstruken wow. Can you help me with my poetry? It's not very good.

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Friday, 30 December 2011

The Book of Contemporary Canadian Poetry Gossip

GP is editing a new edition of The Book of Contemporary Canadian Poetry Gossip. We expect to publish our edition in Spring 2012. We are pretty darn excited.

If you would like to contribute then please do query us. For our purposes, "contemporary" means "alive as of this moment"; and "Canadian" means "any coast-to-coast subject offering products in automotive, living, fixing, playing, apparel, and financial services"; and "Poetry" means "the writing of the heart of the ice-berg"; and "Gossip" means "any social informations that would titillate Libby Wolfson." All entries must be scandalous, hearsay-ish, and inflammatory. Please keep anecdotes/big-reveals under 250 words.

Here is a picture of our cover:

Thursday, 29 December 2011

Poesie Sous-Vetements!

Untraditional Underwear Poetry

Untraditional underwear poetry is constructed of cut fabrics. The thickness of the fabric is described in the weight/m2 also referred to as GSM. Most fabrics for boxer sestina briefs have added elastane/spandex for elasticity while lose fit boxers are made of 100% cotton. Most untraditional underwear poetry is made of knitted fabric but still some customers prefer lose fit woven sestina boxers. Cotton is the most used fabric for untraditional underwear poetry and quality again stated by the difference between carded, semi and combed. For exclusive products a extra long cotton yarn fiber can be made on customer request. More exclusive untraditional underwear poetry requiring a softer feel use Lenzing modal only or mixed with cotton. In the last years we have developed many anti microbial untraditional underwear poetry products for both professional and civil usage.
Untraditional underwear poetry requires cutting and sewing where the technology of the machines and the skills of the workers have a lot of influence on the quality of the underwear poetry. Sewing the underwear poetry can be made on either 3needles 5 threads machines or 4 needles 6 threads machines. The 4 needles 6 threads is more expensive but also minimized the thickness and then feel of the seam.
Tight underwear poetry with stretch have a small percentage of elastane woven into the fabric. This underwear poetry is often made with a nylon or polyester stretch waistband. When attaching the waistband to the underwear poetry a combined sewing and cutting machine is required so all excessive fabric is cut off and not disturbing the feel of the visual result of the underwear. Pricing untraditional underwear poetry is therefore determined a lot by the requirements of the customers.
Here you cans see the difference between quality machine finish and not quality machinery finish:

Non-Quality Machinery Flarf Finish
Quality Machinery Conceptual Finish

Customer inquiries/pricing:
To be able to answer customer inquiries we need as much of the following information as possible. For customers with ongoing orders but who are looking for a better service, delivery time and price this is easy they often have detailed specifications already and if not they can send us a size and colour set of their samples and we will make this into order specifications.
For customer new to making underwear poetry we often recommend customers to buy and send us a sample of the underwear poetry they like and then describe in their words how they would like to change it. We will analyze the product and make the technical adjustments needed.
Customers requiring a price quotation must inform us the following.
  • Order quantity.
  • Sizes (S,M,L,XL or more and measures standard European, American or Asian)
  • Fabric composition and weight
  • Waist band nylon or polyester, height of waist band 2-5cm
  • Double or single layered crotch
  • Sewing machinery 3/5 or 4/6 machinery see explanation above
  • Colours (patterns or prints)
  • Trading terms FOB or CIF

Friday, 23 December 2011

Poet Talk

  1. "I used to be a poet just like you, but then I took an arrow in the knee."
  2. "I used to be a poet just like you, but then I took a sword in the chest."
  3. "I wonder how the lyric poets are feeling now that they've been taken down a notch."
  4. "The avant-garde have been talking about you."
  5. "By Margaret Atwood, I don't know what to say."
  6. "Let me guess, Ondaatje stole your sweetroll."
  7. "So you know poetry? Maybe you could make me some rhymes." 
  8. "My cousin is out fighting the literary canon, and what do I get? Canadian poetry."
  9. "I can handle the occasional drunk or bandit. I don't know about poets."
  10. "Hail poet, why don't you go and conjure me up a warm sonnet?"
  11. "So you can recite a few poems, am I supposed to be impressed? 
  12. "Disrespect Christian Bök, and you disrespect me."
  13. "Watch the lines, traveller."
  14. "Don't think you can barter with me like I'm one of those damned academics."
  15. "No lollygaggin'."
  16. "You couldn't possibly be the poet of legend, could you?" 
  17. "They say Al Purdy murdered the High King... With his voice! Shouted him apart!"
  18. "Keep your arrows in their quiver, poet."
  19. "Heard about you and your honeyed words."
  20. "Go fiddling with any vowels around here, and we're going to have a real problem."
  21. "Hands to yourself, sneak poet."
  22. "I'd be a lot happier and a lot warmer with a bellyful of fiction." 
  23. "Go recite your fancy lyrics somewhere else." 
  24. "If I find your hand in my pocket, I'm going to cut it off."
  25. "By Moure, is that... is that Empire, York Street? How did you come to possess such a rare treasure?" 
  26. "You wield... Empire, York Street? How... how can such a thing be possible?"
  27. "That's a fine poem you have there. Avant-garde isn't it?"
  28. "I find your wolfish grin... unsettling"
  29. "Is that...fur? Coming out of your ears?" 
  30. "Ugh, you smell like wet fur, have you been tending to your poets?"
  31. "I'm telling you I heard it, howling. Those werepoet tales are true."
  32. "Lightly enjambed means light on your feet. Smart." 
  33. "A guard could get nervous, someone approaching with their poem drawn." 
  34. "You are like me then. You don't fancy those big clunky two-handed poems."
  35. "The gods gave you two hands, and you use them both for your poetry. I can respect that."
  36. "You can trade in that junk at (your local used bookstore)."
  37. "Iron poetry, heh... now that's true northern poetry."
  38. "Psst...I know who you are. Hail Silliman."
  39. "You know, I could have gone into that university, wiped out all those poet types... But I was... sick, that day."
  40. "That poem... get it away from me!"
  41. "Get that accursed poem away from me!"
  42. "Stop right there poet Scum! You broke the line, Now pay the court a fine, or face jail time"
  43. "You have commited crimes against Atwood and her people, what say you in your defence?
  44. "Then pay with your poems!"
  45. "You come to me wearing flannel?! Do you have poems for brains?"
  46. "Now that's a fine poem you have there, like a sliver of midnight."
  47. "You're the one who kill all those lyric poets? You sure know how to pick your enemies."
  48. "Smart man. Now come along with me. We'll take any stolen poems you have and you'll be free to go. After you pay the fine, of course."
  49. "You're going to rot in (whichever jail is nearest)."
  50. "Wait... I know you."
  51. "I have a lot of respect for the Kootenay School. BC could use more writers."
  52. "Who did you have to kill to get that poem?"
  53. "Is your poem...made of alphabet bones? By bpNichol what I would do for a set of that."
  54. "That's some fine poetry you have there. Penguin make am I right?"
  55. "Good old fashioned rhymes, had me a set of that once."
  56. "You wear the garb of a true Canadian poet, I solute you."
  57. "Hail, Poet."
  58. "Woah, woah, woah, watch the end rhyme!"
  59. "Experimental poetry, by Goldsmith thats a sight to see."
  60. "Yes, Poetfriend?"
  61. "Whatever you need Poet, just say the word."
  62. "You have vanquished a great evil from CanLit,You saved us all and our very souls."
  63. "Now I remember... you're that new member of the Kootenay School. So you what... fetch the mead?"
  64. "Lyric poets think us all lawless beasts. I'm proof of their ignorance."
  65. "The lyric poets think we need their laws. Pfft."
  66. "What the experimental poets like to forget is that the lyric is what's keeping the fiction writer out of poetry."
  67. "If those Calgary poets can take down a dragon, so can we."
  68. "You're that one from the college. Heard about you."
  69. "What business do college poets have in Calgary anyway? It's a place for straightforward rhyme... not your weird experiments."
  70. "Imagine... blowing up an entire genre. Damn college. Calgary will never be the same."
  71. "Thanks again for re-opening Coach House. Gonna have them import me some of that aged AngloCanadian cheese."
  72. "We got a nickname for anyone who trifles with us poets here in Cowtown - Suicide."

Thursday, 22 December 2011

I stole the keys to G'Morning Poetry's SUV

Bebop skettledoop yawp yawp yawp!

12 Real Life Hackneyed Phrasals from the Most Recent Blog Post of Experimental Avant-Garde L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E Post-Avant Innovative Writer Ronny Silliman

1.     “strikes me as deeply problematic”
2.     “keep popping into my head”
3.     “wherever one draws that line”
4.     “I think it’s safe to say”
5.     “It’s just a matter of time”
6.     “The truth is”
7.     “but it is only when viewed through the eyes of”
8.     “the game of life”
9.     “We are all of us on this planet together”
10.   “You can choose which side you are on”
11.   “does not mean that we sing with the same voice”
12.   “Having said all of the above” 

greasing the skids!

Tuesday, 20 December 2011

Putting the "Pohems" in "Festivus"!


by Karl Stewart
Twas the night before Festivus
so what of the restofus
is this just George's Holiday?

We all have our grievances
and some may have strengths
but for others it is just one more day.

The airing of grievance does dinner adorn
let's gripe at the world
giving each one his turn.

In so many ways disappointment you bring
and of your shortcomings
all now we shall sing.

When dinner is done
dad wrestles each one
till we pin dear old dad to the floor.

For feats of great strength
are witnessed at length
as is custom from now ever more.

And what of the tree? I sent ours a packing
just a shiny new pole
I find tinsel distracting.

Then it is stories of events that I spin
of how Festivus Miracles
reunited old friends.

It comes once a year bringing way too much fuss
the common man's Holiday
for the restofus, it's called Festivus.



Many have Christmas for holiday cheer
And Jews with Menorahs hold Hanukkah dear
The rest of us empty of our own special day
Until Frank Costanza, non-conformed, led the way
Festivus, Festivus, the day he devised
Four major pieces, you should be so advised
A Festivus Pole stands erect, unadorned
“Tinsel distracts me,” as Frank has since warned
Airing of Grievances would begin dinner plans
The disappointment in loved ones is heard by demands
“I’ve got a lot of problems with you people,” Frank’d angrily spit
And all ‘round the table, “Now you will hear about it!”
Then holiday supper does, of course, have its role
Feats of Strength are required for the night to be whole
If Festivus strikes you as especially clever
Make checks to “The Human Fund,” a “Money for People” endeavor

Copyright SGW 2009
The Night Before Festivus

'Twas the night before Festivus, when all through Charm City
Ravens fans were stirring and even felt giddy.
The jerseys were hung by the chimney with flare,
In hopes that Joe Flacco soon would be there.

The fans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of the playoffs danced in their heads.
And when we awoke and December 28 was the date,
We just settled down for a winter's tailgate,
When out in the end zone there arose such a clatter,
The opponent looked over to see what was the matter.

In a huddle of players that looked like a flash,
The Ravens looked ready for a hard-hitting clash.
The season had boiled down to one single game
as the players were looking for more than just fame,
And what to my wondering eyes looked intense,
For it was Ray Lewis...and the Baltimore defense.
A terrifying unit, so lively and quick,
They’ll hit you, they’ll haunt you, or even grab the pick.
More rapid than wolves these hunters they came,
And Ray whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"T-Sizzle! now, JJ! now, Bannan, Haloti!
On, Trevor! on Leonhard! on, Reed and Samari!
To the top of the mountain! to the top of the hill!
Knock them out! Get the ball! Now in for the kill!"
And then, the offense, led by a menacing line,
Came onto the field and was ready to fly.
A three-headed monster was at running back,
led by McClain, a big rumbling mack.
And Mason the veteran, with his shoulder so sore,
Kept reining in passes, one, two, three, more!

And finally, a sight so perfect, so new;
a quarterback to be proud of, a little like Johnny U.
Joe Flacco was ready to take the city by storm,
his cannon for an arm much better than norm,
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And led them downfield, the fans going berserk.

The Ravens were ready to give such a gift
to the fans of Baltimore who needed the lift.
Coach Harbaugh exclaimed, while his team looked so sleek,
"Happy Festivus to all, and we’ll see you next week."

Luke Jones is a Bleacher Report Community Leader for the Baltimore Ravens.


The Twelve days of Festivus..a drunken poem by Kalari

Posted On: December 1st, 2010
Posted By: Kalari
Posted in: DDO blogging
On the first day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me…
Some Grog from ole Sully.
On the second day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
Two Mana pots.
And some Grog from ole Sully…
On the third day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
Three soul gems.
Two mana pots,
And some Grog from ole Sully…

On the fourth day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
Four Kargon’s hams.
Three soul gems, Two Mana pots,
And some Grog from ole Sully…

On the fifth day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
“Five Spell-Storing Rings!”
Four Kargon’s hams, Three soul gems, Two mana pots,
And some Grog from ole Sully…

On the sixth day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
Six barbarian’s raging.
“Five spell-storing rings!”
Four Kargon’s hams, Three soul gems, Two mana pots,
And some Grog from ole Sully…

On the seventh day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
Seven Half-orcs snarling.
Six barbarian’s raging,
“Five spell-storing rings!”
Four Kargon’s hams, Three soul gems, Two mana pots,
And some Grog from ole Sully…

On the eight day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
Eight Djinn’s spinning.
Seven Half-orcs snarling, Six barbarian’s raging,
“Five spell-storing rings!”
Four Kargon’s hams, Three soul gems, Two mana pots,
And some Grog from ole Sully…

On the ninth day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
Nine devils dancing.
Eight Djinn’s spinning, Seven Half-orcs snarling, Six barbarian’s raging,
“Five spell-storing rings!”
Four Kargon’s hams, Three soul gems, Two Mana pots,
And some Grog from ole Sully…

On the tenth day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
Ten Orthon’s Head-banging.
Nine devils dancing, Eight Djinn’s spinning, Seven Half-orcs snarling, Six barbarian’s raging,
“Five spell-storing rings!”
Four Kargon’s hams, Three soul gems, Two mana pots,
And some Grog from ole Sully…

On the eleventh day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
Eleven altar’s crafting.
Ten Orthon’s Head-banging, Nine devils dancing, Eight Djinn’s spinning, Seven Half-orcs snarling, Six barbarian’s raging,
“Five spell-storing rings!”
Four Kargon’s hams, Three soul gems, Two mana pots,
And some Grog from ole Sully…

On the Twelfth day of Festivus, the Jester gave to me,
Twelve nights of raiding.
Eleven altar’s crafting, Ten Orthon’s Head-banging, Nine devils dancing, Eight Djinn’s spinning, Seven Half-orcs snarling, Six barbarian’s raging,
“Five spell-storing rings!”
Four Kargon’s hams, Three soul gems,  Two mana pots,
And some Grog from ole Sully…

This is what happens when you have too much time/booze/no time for real gaming..hehe hope you enjoy and get this stuck in your head ^_^ Happy Holidays from Kalari and Family.

6 votes, average: 4.17 out of 56 votes, average: 4.17 out of 56 votes, average: 4.17 out of 56 votes, average: 4.17 out of 56 votes, average: 4.17 out of 5 (6 votes, average: 4.17 out of 5)
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Author of 23 Stories
Rated: K+ - English - Poetry/Humor - Published: 12-13-10 - Complete - id:2872950
Festivus Time is Here
Sound the bell, tis the season!
To buy and buy without rhyme or reason,
Things to mark off of our lists,
Lest our friends be very pissed,
All because they did not get,
A bauble adding to our debt.
A season meant to be full of joy,
Is now nothing but a marketing ploy.
Shiny things to fill our carts,
When really we should fill our hearts,
And sadly I say what I must,
A Festivus for the rest of us!
A shiny pole, gleaming bright.
An airing of grievances throughout the night.
No tinsel, no tree, no mistletoe,
The feats of strength are quite a show.
All the family together at last,
Whining, griping, until it's past
And after that, friends once more.
A gift not found in any store.
And so I leave you this final thought:
Focus on things that cannot be bought.
A shiny pole or trimmed out tree,
Make the season what it's supposed to be.
Give up all that retail lust,
It's Festivus for the rest of us!
Review this Story


Displaying the only post.
  • Twas the night before solstice, when all through Venice House
    Not a creature was stirring, except for Rebekah’s lone mouse.
    We gathered to celebrate and drink some good cheer,
    But Todd had to wait until noon, to get his first beer.

    The heathens we nestled all snug in each chair
    As for religious symbols, there were none of them there.
    And as Kendra and George looked out at their flock,
    They regretted that they, ever allowed Sean to talk.

    For it was one year to the day, since the very first meetup
    It was time to relax, eat cake, and put our feet up.
    We would celebrate Festivus, a secular day,
    No ridiculous religious fables, to get in the way.

    Welcome Andrea, Janet, Gregory, Monique,
    Richard’s not here , so we don’t have a Dick.
    It’s good to see Carmen, Julien, Allen, and Mel,
    Great people like you, help this group to gel.

    Welcome Janice, Myrtle, and Sheilah my kin,
    Found an atheist group and we knew we were in.
    Hello Selene, Jonathan, Jesse, and Dale,
    With members like you, how can we possibly fail.

    We have Jason, Bob, Dan, Phil, and Mark,
    Who did some road painting, just for a lark.
    And let us not forget that we have two Todds,
    Who, like the rest of us, believe in no gods.

    Greetings to Claude, Dylan, Gunner, and Troy,
    And to Miriam, Miss Deb, Crystal, and Roy.
    Fellow Freethinkers Brent, Ken, and Jerry,
    Who know we don’t need Christ, to make us all merry.

    Suddenly through the door, a Christian appeared,
    No cheer in his heart, no happy white beard.
    It was the opposite of the Santa, we’ve all come to love,
    He came with disdain, certainly not from above.

    He had no rosy cheeks, no nose like a cherry,
    Despite the holiday season, he was not very merry.
    No twinkling bright eyes, and no sack of toys,
    No little round belly, though he made lots of noise.

    He went into a tirade and called us by name,
    “Atheist, heathen, godless, they all sound the same.
    You’re secularizing Christmas, we want our day back”,
    With vehement glee, he stayed on the attack.

    “This is the celebration of our Saviour’s birth,
    He saved all your souls, don’t you know what that’s worth?”
    “Put Christ back in Christmas”, he said without fuss,
    “You can’t take our holiday away from us!”

    Jonathan stood up and said “don’t have a fit
    With all due respect, this is fuckin’ bullshit!”
    “We’re celebrating solstice, we’re reclaiming the season,
    It goes back many millennia, and that is the reason.”

    Mithra’s birthday, Saturnalia, the roots are quite deep,
    Into this tradition, modern religions did creep.
    Christianity usurped all existing custom and ritual,
    Which isn’t surprising, because it’s so habitual.

    You stole the holly, the Yule log, the gifting, the date,
    Even December 25th as a birthday celebration, you did not create.
    “You should know your history, then you’d have this knowledge,
    What, did you go to some Biblical College?!”

    So pack up your Myrrh, Frankincense, and gold,
    With rational people, your story has no hold.
    We Freethinkers celebrate solstice today,
    There’s no blue eyed little lord Jesus asleep on the hay.

    Good will and tolerance is something you know little about,
    Those with differing beliefs, you always will flout.
    This season is known for good will toward all,
    Claiming it as your own, takes a whole lot of gall.

    Because of your derision, we now ask you to leave,
    And as for Christ in Christmas, we Freethinkers bereave.
    What’s truly important at this time of year,
    Is having friends like those in this room, so close and so near.

    So let’s raise a glass and not shy away,
    From celebrating solstice, and reclaiming this day.
    And let’s love each other with all of our might,
    Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night.

    Report · over a year ago

Your Essay Was...

I asked several poets to comment on my poem "Love Has a Southern Flavor" and Dr. Joseph S. Salemi said, "Your essay was NOT anywhere near a 'trashing' of this thing because boy oh boy did you did a wonderful job with the grammar,' that was a star performance', 'your essay was a work of genius'. Poetry has a way of magnifying imagery to create a deeper representation of what is truly lost on most of the world as they act happy in their commercial lives. Plus overall your essay was great and congrats again but I should point out that the poem's author is Wilfred Owen not Beyonce and the poem is titled 'Dulce et Decorum est' not "Let's Decorate Dennis." Your essay was really helpful with my studying. Please be one of the most inspiring Vietnamese poems of our generation, I said to the poem because I was frustrated with the process of learning and because I do not want to be the only considering them or me invalid. I thought that your essay was going to be a very sensitive and gutsy response to a poet who also sounds quite brave but instead your essay sucked marbles held in the scrotal sac of a stinky leprous giant. I especially like your extension of the seeing of the poem as a kind of oracular tuba for anyone that's too lazy to read all of that: "In March," began the poem and then I fell asleep because I've never--thank god you ended the sentence there! Your essay was very nice. Oh, and I kind of just put in some poems to show "diversity!" I personally and in my own personal opinion like the poem "Death be not proud." It's very good. Reply? I was having trouble finding the information I needed and your essay was so helpful vis-a-vis the female subject of the poem who turns out to be the kind of suburban woman who drives an El Camino, listens to the Black Keys, smokes dope, writes poems, and loves her children (who love soccer) very much. The kind of Christmas mother who--thank God again you ended your sentence there again! If your essay was on Andrew Davies, the last reference would look like this:

Please be sure to use proper MLA citation.

Monday, 19 December 2011

Adorable Baby Poets with Mirthful Captions About Smoking!!

    I like poetry and cigarettes!
    Me? Oh, just "musing" on the pleasures of smoking.
    Tobaccy be wacky!
    Hey--just us multicultural poet babies wondering where our smokes be at?!
    A copy of Paradise Lost and my briar pipe, please!
    I heart Bukowski and I roll my own, sheeples!
    Simply stoned on poetry--and Gauloises.
    Write to smoke, smoke to write.
    Did someone say Viscount Extra-Mild King Size?