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Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Poetry

...It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.
On this platform of peace, we can create a language
to translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.
At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ

Into the great religions of the world.
We jubilate the precious advent of trust.
We shout with glorious tongues the coming of hope.
All the earth’s tribes loosen their voices to celebrate the promise of
Peace...
~ Maya Angelou
Poetry. Gah. For years I didn't understand the draw. And to be honest. It's still not my favorite means of communication. But there are some Poets that can definitely get their point across without making me want to dig my eyes out with a spoon. 
Maya Angelou is one of them. I wasn't really on board with her work, I will admit, until I had the great good fortune to hear her READ it aloud. It was like a light went on. Ohhhhhhh! Duh! Now, admittedly, Ms. Angelou has one of the most lyrically soothing voices in recent history. But still. I don't think that's why I suddenly understood what I was missing about reading poetry. She gave it rhythm. She gave the words feeling. She enunciated the lines as though she was reading a passage of prose. It didn't feel like poetry. 
 Which was what I was doing wrong. I was saying to myself. "AH! This is poetry! Must be sing-song. And rhyme-y. And MEANINGFUL!" Sometimes a daisy is JUST a flower. Not a signifier of a *ahem* women's left elbow. If you get my meaning...
 I know that yes. There is poetry out there like that. Where every other word is couched in deep hidden meaning and you have to slog through it to get at what the author was trying to tell you. But really. Why? I could never understand why poets have to be so...vague. But that is for another rant!
For now. Lets concentrate on our own poetry! What types do you write? I am by no means an expert. But I'm sure that amongst our followers there will be those that can help! If you would like...send your poetry to our submission e-mail. unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com. We'll just have some fun commenting and talking about poetry for the next few days. 
If I don't get any submissions I Promise to post some of my college work. Now. Do we really want that? 
No.
No we don't.
 

11 comments:

mshatch said...

yes, we do!

Lauren said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Lauren said...

I posted this as a reply! Silly me.

I write the vague stuff, and it really doesn't have any meaning for me. I'm always surprised at the meanings some other people ascribe to it. I do write other kinds, but I like vague and slightly creepy the best.

A figment of a scrambled Mind
With cheese and herbs and nursery Rhymes


The eggs are tossed and then fillet'd
and feeling just a touch betrayed

They scramble from the frying pan.

We want to be fried, they moan and pout
And while they're moping all about

And bouncing gently on the floor
They mope and pout right out the door

Into the garden of my mind
Into my dreams and there they find

Something worse than a whisk of wire--
Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Liz said...

The last time I attempted poetry was in college. And the professor gave me a C for my effort, so we won't be seeing any of that ever.

Angela Brown said...

I am less poetically inclined, as that seems the nice way to say it. I admire those who can say - in poetry - things I struggle with in a line of prose.

Huntress said...

If only I could find

That limerick I signed.

It had a good beat
But wasn’t complete

Without a risqué frame of mind.

*er. yeah. I like limericks*

Alicia C. said...

Careful what you wish for! ;)

Alicia C. said...

That's ok...I'll just copy and past it for tomorrow! See what our readers make of it! Should be interesting!

I always find it interesting what meanings others find in my writing as well...though that's the fascinating thing about poetry I think. It depends a lot on where you are, personally, as to what you get out of a specific piece.

Alicia C. said...

Don't be shy! My stuff is from college to! I think I had a far more forgiving professor... Or maybe he was an old hippie that was still tripping on acid or something. I used to get fanTASTIC grades! Gack...

Alicia C. said...

I totally agree. It's very hard to get to the heart of something in prose. Let alone Poetry!

Alicia C. said...

*GROAN* I may have to ban you this week... :P BAHAHAHAH Kidding...