F*** YOU APATHY

Brad - since you clearly know everything about poetry, I'd appreciate it if you would comment on one or both of my poems (lyric poetry - "Indiscretion" and/or "To Rend This Tattered Heart"). I would like feedback from someone reading with a critical eye. Fluffy "OMG it's wonderful" posts are quaint but utterly useless. Please feel free to point out any and all errors in a constructive fashion. I'd like to see how my critiques measure up to those of one so wise as yourself.

Get over yourself.

You are truly laughable. You can be overly critical to the point of hurtful, and downright mean when people only want honest and constructive critiques. When asked to demonstrate your ability, you insult me further. Immature and cowardly.

(I love the irony between the topic of the poem v. the topic of discussion)

Right, and, because your question was not, in any sense, sarcastic to the point of immature, you have so much room to stand on. Anyway, I already-do intend on critiquing one of the two, though not both (until you comment on another of mine) -- you know, that kind of strange bartering system found in all human interaction.

Hah. I'll critique your poem. Although I can't pretend to be an expert like these other ones.

Fuck you, television watcher
Isolation, the-world-doesn't-touch-you-liar.
Artificial adult,
hugging America, Western Civilization,
hell, soon a pension,
knowing that danger
is
going to college,
your first kiss
your first fight, your
empty fucks.

Hmmm...I didn't particularly like this stanza until the last line. Or perhaps the part after "knowing." Rather simplistic. You're just telling it as it is.

Never mind the present
never mind the past,
nevermind the future 'cuz
you don't believe in it.

Who's it that said you wrote this in the true american way? (or something along those lines.) Brad, right? Well I agree with him. I believe in the future, personally. But way to condemn your readers, Psy. That seems to be your entire purpose

If someone ever classifies my poetry, I will
strangle him with my bare hands,
her for political correctness.

Okay I like the first two lines, that's awesome. But the last line is great too...I bet you're actually one of those intellegient nerds that's never had a girlfriend and wears those little sweatervests, huh? You just come across as really smart so I'm taking a guess-although nerds don't usually seem to be so...angry

And I dare not say what I'll do
if it is printed
with any dipshit's pictures.
with colors,
With the living arts.
Poetry is dead, so
it should be ugly
or it shouldn't matter.
)

Okay, the first five lines suck. They don't make sense and they don't sound good. They don't flow at all. But the last three are sheer genius, I'm astounded.

I want to look at you without
being afraid that I'll offend you.

Okay, here's your quaint, bubble gum moment: Oh my God that's so great! Amazing! Genius! You're brilliant! I wish I had come up with that...blah blah blah...yeah

Fuck you, captive audience.

I love how you're breaking the rules here. You're supposed to at least WANT your audience to like you, in most cases, not insult them in ways that would get you bitch slapped at the mall. *applauds formally* most excellent

my
my blood is poured
out of love
into nothingness...

Wonderful. It completely encapsulates the world today. Brilliant.

the irony
of never saying anything that you mean
is that you forget
that it's possible to say anything, well
I'm high, so to translate to you the point,
there's nothing that anyone could say
anyway (

the first four lines are sheer poetic genius, and then you ruin it with the last three lines. But I love the style of parenthesis. that's pretty sweet. Quite original.

(

lone
liness)

the only thing I've learned to do
is to scream
eloquently.

I love the loneliness part. It's really cute. But the last part, about screaming eloquently, is gorgeous.

II

One day, I bled in the shower
as I shaved my chest, as I
kissed insanity, genius, trigger-happy pain.

I didn't get this part. And I don't know why you want to shave...weirdo. But the last line is great.

Long story short,
I say unto you
the hiding majority,
that poetry died
when you all became fuck-ups.

Amazing. I love your condemning tone. I love the emo style. So maybe you don't wear a sweatervest. Maybe you wear baggy black pants and wear eyeliner. Because you don't want people to classify your stuff...but your stuff classifies itself.

Psy, with all due respect, I owe you a critique. Well, here it is:

I’m afraid I don’t find this a very successful poem. It is vague, abstract, and repetitive, with lots of awkward syntax/grammar and an unfair proportion of “prophetic” moments as opposed to actual, interesting, unique writing.

I almost didn’t make it through my first pass—I don’t find that the rudimentary level of language supports the poem’s conclusions…and sometimes I just thought the poem didn’t make much sense. Lines such as: “hell, soon a pension,/knowing that danger/is/going to college" simply don't carry off the bravado your trying for. Ultimately, I found it bare, and, where it was engaging, it was largely old ideas rehashed into technocratic language.

Thanks, though, for the chance to offer my opinion and argue with Cicero. Because we all know how productive that debate was. :wink:

Me, I thought it was awesome. Have you ever been on that plane? I just feel like it's right, like there's no deeper meaning, it just is. I know it sounds as stupid as f**k, but that's just the way it is. And I'm not even drunk neither. (I did that on purpose just in case anyone wants to pull anything)

I've got my eyes on you.

Right. You know, you'd really be good if you didn't attack everyone who tries to critique your poetry. It's a good thing that I don't go back to poems after I comment on them....

Now - this poem has meaning, but the coherent sections don't tie into each other. You go from one subject to another randomly, curse the whole world off and then end the poem in an empty way that, personally, left me feeling ripped off. You would think something better would come from all that anger - try to stop using your angry and ranting feelings to make poetry.

Then again, maybe that's your thing.