Post by Ash WurthingPost by Ash WurthingPost by Jordy CPost by rachelPost by Michael PendragonPost by rachelPost by rachelPost by rachelPost by Michael PendragonPost by David DaltonOctober 17 is Black Poetry Day.
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https://www.nfld.com/~dalton/dtales.html Salmon on the Thorns (mystic page)
"So tell me, tell me, tell me; Why it makes you cry; It was your first time
in the sun; Once burned, twice shy; It's come around again; Did it
really hurt so bad; You'd let it pass you by?” (Noel Dinn/Figgy Duff)
Is "Black Poetry" an actual category/genre?
I shouldn't think that a writer's ethnicity would be a reason to pigeonhole their work into a specific "type."
Traditionally, written poetry comprises black letters written or printed on white paper, and could therefore be considered "colorless."
Nor does one need to be of African-American descent to appreciate the poetry of Langston Hughes or Paul Laurence Dunbar.
I therefore propose that we refer to October 17th as "Black Poets Day" instead -- celebrating the writers as opposed to pigeonholing their poetry into some racially determined niche.
Michael Pendragon
"'Cujo' does not know Hebrew, but is a cyberstaslker.does not even know Hebrew."
-- The late, unlamented Stephen "Pickles" Pickering
I hope this isn't a flame...but I agree with this post. I actually wasn't even certain, I thought perhaps it meant Black Poetry, as in dark poetry...poetry with a morbid theme...such as in cinema there is Film Noir (which which I am in no way familiar as a genre, however I've heard of it... :-/// (sorry, hope that's not embarrassing, Robert)) I googled it, not so sure by who's definition comes the list I got, I don't think it's a traditional academic list. ( :-( ), but I've seen and liked a number of them, but there are also a few on it that I have tried a couple times, and never could get into and like, and watch the whole thing.
I'm glad that you agree, Rachel. And, no, I didn't intend my post to be a flame.
The idea that "Black Poetry" referred to poetry with a (very) dark theme occurred to me as well -- especially since a large portion of my own poetry would fall under such a category.
And with Halloween coming, a Dark Poetry Day would be most appropriate.
Michael Pendragon
“You invented the unspeakable shit called
duckrish because English is beyond you and now you seem to be having
trouble understanding your own mangled language.”
-- Rob Evans to Will Dockery
no, come on....halloween is meant to be fictional....for kids.....it's a celebratory holiday, not about real darkness and evil....
Halloween (a.k.a., Samhain) marks the end of the Pagan year. It's on Halloween night that the doors between this world and the next open, allowing all those who died over the course of the year to pass into the land of the dead.
It's neither for children, nor fictional.
Nor is it about real evil -- as the souls of the good and bad alike must pass to the "other side."
It is, however, decidedly dark.
Michael Pendragon
“Oh, don't be silly.
Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
(You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
sucking cock.)”
-- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
is this how the date was chosen for the national holiday, based on a pagan event occurring on this night?
Pretty much all of our holidays were appropriated form Pagan traditions.
Michael Pendragon
"Memories... pressed between the pages just like fine wine...…........"
-- George "Stink" Sulzbach, career pissbum
that's true, we all stand on the shoulders of giants, nobody or nothing is truly unique and original, is it?
There is no new thing under the sun”- book of Ecclesiastates
*sigh* So simpleton that is stupefies the imagination into stagnant inanity.
Everything is futile...
Vanity of vanities, said the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.
What advantage is there to a man in all his labour that he takes under the sun?
A generation goes, and a generation comes: but the earth stands for ever.
And the sun arises, and the sun goes down and draws toward its place;
arising there it proceeds southward, and goes round toward the north. The wind goes round and round, and the wind returns to its circuits.
All the rivers run into the sea; and yet the sea is not filled: to the place whence the rivers come, thither they return again.
All things are full of labour; a man will not be able to speak of them: neither shall the eye be satisfied with seeing, neither shall the ear be filled with hearing.
What is that which has been? The very thing which shall be: and what is that which has been done? The very thing which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.
Who is he that shall speak and say, 'Behold, this is new?' It has already been in the ages that have passed before us.
There is no memorial to the first things; neither to the things that have been last shall their memorial be with them that shall at the last time.
-- Ecclesiastes 1, Brenton's Septuagint Translation
Goddamned the ignominy of fools of meagre commentary!
"What is that which has been? The very thing which shall be: and what is that which has been done? The very thing which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun." than just a measly "There is no new thing under the sun."
Speaking of standing on the shoulders...
"We stood on the shoulders of giants
Like Atlas with the burden of faith
We clasped our hands—our hands in praise
Of a conqueror's right to tyranny
--*Death Of The Gods' (album "Redemption At The Puritan's Hand") ~~Primordial
But wait, there's more relating to nothing new under the Sun, the damning realization from the fact...
And whatever mine eyes desired, I withheld not from them, I withheld not my heart from all my mirth: for my heart rejoiced in all my labour; and this was my portion of all my labour.
And I looked on all my works which my hands had wrought, and on my labour which I laboured to perform: and behold, all was vanity and waywardness of spirit, and there is no advantage under the sun.
-- Ecclesiastes 2:11, Brenton's Septuagint Translation
"And so let me show you
There is nothing new
How we feared God
Held a flame into the void
And snuffed out the creator
And we became death
Is this the march of all against all?
To the sound of a distant drum
All of your sons and daughters
Walking right into the sun"
--'Nothing New Under the Sun' ~~Primordial
Then I looked on to see wisdom, and madness, and folly: for who is the man who will follow after counsel, in all things where in he employs it?
And I saw that wisdom excels folly, as much as light excels darkness.
The wise man's eyes are in his head; but the fool walks in darkness: and I perceived, even I, that one event shall happen to them all.
And I said in my heart, As the event of the fool is, so shall it be to me, even to me: and to what purpose have I gained wisdom? I said moreover in my heart, This is also vanity, because the fool speaks of his abundance.
For there is no remembrance of the wise man with the fool for ever; forasmuch as now in the coming days all things are forgotten: and how shall the wise man die with the fool?
So I hated life; because the work that was wrought under the sun was evil before me: for all is vanity and waywardness of spirit.
-- Ecclesiastes 2:12, Brenton's Septuagint Translation
All for wisdom or madness
for satisfaction or sadness
for our kingdom we hope will come
while our lives are coming undone
"It won't be solved in tranquility,
serenity in humanity's banality-
such a tragedy"
--'Humanity' ~~In The Woods