This chain works by answering the last question in the comments section and leaving one for the next person. I'll try and put them up into the main post as they come in. You may participate multiple times.
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Where do poems come from?
Poems grow on the inspiration tree -- a plant that few are able to find even after years of searching -- all the flowers which grow on it are different colors.
Is there any reason you should not freeze a poem?
There is no reason I am aware of you should not freeze a poem.
Can we really eat our own words or is that just something people say?
Surely we can, and we must!
We may choose to dine on our own words... it is preferable, though, if said words are delectable and delightful on the palate.
If I write poetry for unrequited loves, am I a romantic fool or a brave warrior?
Sometimes bravery is the quiet voice that whispers I will try again tomorrow, and sometimes it's better to be a solitary soldier than a popular mediocre. So you are neither a fool or brave, only yourself, a poet who feels.
So poems actually make a difference?
If even a small light flickers, yes.
May I tell you everything?
Yes I want to hear your story...
and that flicker does matter...it comes form a pearl...
You are like a shell in a turbulent stormy ocean who's eaten up a grain of sand and now is musing over her pain... and everyone comes to watch you with aahing and oohing...
"She's got a pearl!"
That's what they say...
And this is what makes all the difference... you go on producing pearls to be seen ... shells with no pearls are eaten up!
Can you tell me what they are converted to when they are eaten up?
When they are eaten up they go back into the poetry machine -- sort of like a Play-doh press -- so poets may make more shells, and one day maybe more pearls.
Do poets stay up late at night and furiously smoke cigarettes while balling up sheet after sheet of frustrated paper and tossing them idly over their shoulders?
Poets do what they need to do. Toss them, turn them, throw the words against the wall. Eat and mull over phrases. Swallow and taste their remains.
Which words do we thirst for most?
We thirst for those words that bring us truth, even if it be a bitter tasting truth.
Why is intolerance an affliction of a lazy mind?
It has something to do with all the sawdust and cat fur clogging the vacuum hose.
Are you going to turn the page?
Yes, I am going to turn the page, but not until the page decides to turn me and my misconceptions.
What misconceptions?
This misconception that poetry is written just by words...
Anyway, do we write poetry or poetry writes us?
yes.
Do you know the difference?
No I do not know the difference.
Do you?
Yes I do...there's no difference since the coin has got just one side.
Head or tails?
I have always preferred heads over tails. Heads are where hearts are protected, and allowed to reach out beyond the (rib)cage...
Is there such a thing as a good cage?
30 comments:
Can we really eat our own words or is that just something people say?
Surely we can, and we must!
OR
People will eat their own words too some day!
Choose one or the other, or do two different ones.
hey hopper, these are great.
We may choose to dine on our own words... it is preferable, though, if said words are delectable and delightful on the palate.
If I write poetry for unrequited loves, am I a romantic fool or a brave warrior?
Sometimes bravery is the quiet voice that whispers I will try again tomorrow, and sometimes it's better to be a solitary soldier than a popular mediocre. So you are neither a fool or brave, only yourself, a poet who feels.
So poems actually make a difference?
If even a small light flickers, yes.
May I tell you everything?
sorry about the comment delete's above..I posted simultaneously with you
yes I want to hear your story...
though I know you are neither one...
neither one!
you are just a shell in a turbulent stormy ocean who's eaten up a grain of sand and now is musing over her pain... and everyone comes to watch you with aahing and oohing...
"She's got a pearl!"
That's what they say...
And this is what makes all the difference... you go on producing pearls to be seen ... shells with no pearls are eaten up!
Can you tell me what they are converted to when they are eaten up?
and mine should be altered too?
when I said neither one.. it was bsed on what you said, Fern...
yes I want to hear your story...
and that flicker does matter...it comes form a pearl...
you are like a shell in a turbulent stormy ocean who's eaten up a grain of sand and now is musing over her pain... and everyone comes to watch you with aahing and oohing...
"She's got a pearl!"
That's what they say...
And this is what makes all the difference... you go on producing pearls to be seen ... shells with no pearls are eaten up!
Can you tell me what they are converted to when they are eaten up?
When they are eaten up they go back into the poetry machine -- sort of like a Play-doh press -- so poets may make more shells, and one day maybe more pearls.
Do poets stay up late at night and furiously smoke cigarettes while balling up sheet after sheet of frustrated paper and tossing them idly over their shoulders?
Hopper, dear friend ,
'they' in my question referred to the 'shells with no pearls'... they are the ones that are eaten up...are they poets, too?
if yes... then your answer is okay...
:)
they are poets and the subject of poetry... not sure friend that any of the questions or answers should be taken too seriously or need to be connected by more than duct tape...
Do poets stay up late at night and furiously smoke cigarettes while balling up sheet after sheet of frustrated paper and tossing them idly over their shoulders?
Poets do what they need to do. Toss them, turn them, throw the words against the wall. Eat and mull over phrases. Swallow and taste their remains.
Which words do we thirst for most?
We thirst for those words that bring us truth, even if it be a bitter tasting truth.
Why is intolerance an affliction of a lazy mind?
It has something to do with all the swadust and cat fur clogging the vaccuum hose.
Are you going to turn the page?
or 'sawdust'
Yes, I am going to turn the page, but not until the page decides to turn me and my misconceptions about it.
What misconceptions?
[just a comment, not for the poem ... I love everyone's contribution, but Fern, I have to say -- your answer and next question was a delightful turn in the poem!! loved it!] ... back to bed I go ...
This misconception that poetry is written just by words...
Anway, do we write poetry or poetry writes us?
sorry; anyway...
yes.
Do you know the difference?
Poetry writes us in our everyday and we watch it happening.
There's no reason things are this way like that lady on fire escape
cursing me, toting an Uzi.
Is it just the everyday?
consider my comment/addition above you, hopper,to be below/next...like this:
yes.
Do you know the difference?
[I love the phrasing, hopper...
that lady on fire
escape.
No I do not know the difference.
Do you?
Hopper dear seems you got dizzy!!
;)
look at what you've put up on the blog:
What misconceptions?
This misconception that poetry is written just by words...
yes.
Do you know the difference?
No I do not know the difference.
Do you?
one question is missing!
yes I do...there's no difference since the coin has got just one side...
Head or tails?
(((((Maybe next time we could try paragraphs of prose... it would be a lot easier to keep track of... lol:-) I'm off for now... see ya soon!!!)))))
Thanks for all the fun and wisdom... dear dear friends.
Love to you all.
Seems different times zones (I'm in SA) allow me to be online when others are not...sad in a way ;-)
In answer to Heads or tails:
I have always preferred heads over tails. Heads are where hearts are protected, and allowed to reach out beyond the (rib)cage...
Is there such a thing as a good cage?
yes... the cage of poem where words are imprisoned to be liberated from their hackneyed fetters...
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Hopper, could you please correct my mistake:
Heads or tails? (i wrote 'head')
the cage of a poem...
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