#poetry process

[kellydumar-blog]

Have you ever watched a motion poem? This is one made from a Robert Bly poem, posted on Poets & Writers

[kellydumar-blog]

Poet Natasha Tretheway will speak on PBS about poetry as alternative medicine.

[shubeyd]

Signs of An Artistic Overload (Rant)

Man. The last few days have been crazy with the writing process. It's unbelievable how "shot" my mind is right now. The new poem "Alive" has to be one of my longest, and most sophisticated pieces. It's weird because i'm so dedicated to the feel of poetry now, that i'll immediately have the urge to write another poem right after. In a way, I feel like it's unhealthy to do that. "My mind is shot" (Hint hint). It's amazing how attached one can become to a hobby/love.

I read a lot of the poets on Tumblr, and get so envious from time to time. I draw inspiration from mostly here, and feel as if that won't change. Even if I don't get the notes I may deserve. That doesn't matter when you love a talent like this. You forget about if it'll be noticed or not. But yeah, ultimately you all make me wanna write more. Thank you for that.

I'm walking away for a bit after this new poem "Pen Gripper". To refresh my brain back to it's poetic functioning. The tank is running dry kids. Lol shout out to all my readers, and writers behind the dash. Keep up the dedication, don't forget to let loose for a little bit.

-ShubeyD

[jslr]

Any intention of writing poetry beyond the most basic aim to make a poem, of engaging the materials, SHOULD be disappointed. If the poet does not have the chutzpah to jeopardize habituated assumptions and practices, what will be produced will be sleep without dream, a copy of a copy of a copy. The poem always intends otherwise. At every moment, the poet must be ready to abandon any prior intention in welcome expectation of what the poem is beginning to signal. More than intending, the poet ATTENDS! Attends to the conspiracy of words as it reveals itself as a poem, to its murmurs of radiant content that may be encouraged to shout, to its muffled musics there to be discovered and conducted.

Dean Young– The Art of Recklessness