Originally posted by Grampy Bobbyprehistoric poetry
Originally posted by redbadger
"perspective is deceptive..."
oh, yeah, redbadger, it most certainly is and was and will always be ever thus.
once upon a time before time itself began and prehistoric creatures roamed
upon the face of planet earth to their heart's content foraging for edible prey...
wonder if and/or how they used their di ...[text shortened]... any creativity
in yet unpublished biographies, short stories, novelettes, couplets or poems?¿
ugg said ogg
and ogg said ugg
language thus was born
they found a cave
and a chunk of chalk
and started to write it down
Originally posted by redbadger... and on that first cave wall public forum four questions were posted by a non-subscriber noobie: "1) Who are we? 2) Why are we here?" 3) Where are we going? and 4) How will we get there? ~Noob" The thread was never archived. Why? It's still alive and well today.
prehistoric poetry
ugg said ogg
and ogg said ugg
language thus was born
they found a cave
and a chunk of chalk
and started to write it down
Originally posted by Grampy BobbyNobody Loses All The Time
... and so that was the morning and evening of the 10th day:
tomorrow afternoon we welcome our visiting poet e.e.cummings
nobody loses all the time
i had an uncle named
Sol who was a born failure and
nearly everybody said he should have gone
into vaudeville perhaps because my Uncle Sol could
sing McCann He Was A Diver on Xmas Eve like Hell Itself which
may or may not account for the fact that my Uncle
Sol indulged in that possibly most inexcusable
of all to use a highfalootin phrase
luxuries that is or to
wit farming and be
it needlessly
added
my Uncle Sol’s farm
failed because the chickens
ate the vegetables so
my Uncle Sol had a
chicken farm till the
skunks ate the chickens when
my Uncle Sol
had a skunk farm but
the skunks caught cold and
died and so
my Uncle Sol imitated the
skunks in a subtle manner
or by drowning himself in the watertank
but somebody who’d given my Uncle Sol a Victor
Victrola and records while he lived presented to
him upon the auspicious occasion of his decease a
scruptious not to mention splendiferous funeral with
tall boys in black gloves and flowers and everything and
i remember we all cried like the Missouri
when my Uncle Sol’s coffin lurched because
somebody pressed a button
(and down went
my Uncle
Sol
and started a worm farm)
"Book: 100 Selected Poems by E. E. Cummings"
(Edward Estlin Cummings, October 4, 1894 to September 3, 1962)
27 Jul 15
Originally posted by Grampy Bobbyroses are sometimes read
[b]Nobody Loses All The Time
nobody loses all the time
i had an uncle named
Sol who was a born failure and
nearly everybody said he should have gone
into vaudeville perhaps because my Uncle Sol could
sing McCann He Was A Diver on Xmas Eve like Hell Itself which
may or may not account for the fact that my Uncle
Sol indulged in that poss ...[text shortened]... lected Poems by E. E. Cummings"
(Edward Estlin Cummings, October 4, 1894 to September 3, 1962)[/b]
so are newspapers
today, 143 character messages are read
and taken for great insights
27 Jul 15
3 edits
Originally posted by HandyAndyOriginally posted by HandyAndy
I think e.e. was able to spell better than that.
I think e.e. was able to spell better than that.
________________________
Think whatever you choose...
"E. E. Cummings (1894-1962) was born and brought up in Cambridge Massachusetts, and is remembered above all for his startling innovations in syntax and typography. His early experiments in poetry whilst still a child were encouraged by liberal parents to whom Cummings remained close, particularly his father, a professor of sociology and political science at Harvard, and a Unitarian minister whose religious beliefs influenced the transcendental strand in Cummings' work. He graduated from Harvard in 1916, his commencement address entitled 'New Art' suggesting the modernist/imagist direction in which his poetry would flow.
He then volunteered for the ambulance service in the First World War, but once in France was arrested, erroneously, on suspicion of espionage and spent three and a half months in a detention camp. Despite this negative early experience of the continent, the avant garde cultural life of Paris later became of lasting importance to him. Cummings' debut collection, Tulips and Chimneys, appeared in 1923 and presented for the first time his eccentric use of grammar and punctuation, an approach, influenced by Gertrude Stein, that gave his poetry a radical freshness. His own experience as a painter, as well as a writer, meant that for Cummings the appearance of the poem on the page contributes significantly to its mood and meaning. Typical stylistic devices in his work include: running words together; scattering punctuation symbols cross the page; subverting the syntactical conventions of the English sentence; intentional misspellings and phonetic spellings and the invention of compound words such as "puddle-wonderful". However, this obvious experimentation is often combined with strict formal structures and traditional subject matter that reveals a strong bias towards romanticism.
There is also a satirical vein in his work which mocks the mores of popular American life, particularly society's belief in scientific rationalism. In 1926 Cummings became a freelance writer for Vanity Fair and established his customary work pattern, painting in the afternoons and writing at night. His personal life was less ordered, his first two marriages ending in divorce and enforced estrangement from his only child, Nancy. In 1926 he also suffered the loss of his beloved father in a car accident that left his mother badly injured. However, he found happiness in his third marriage to the photographer, Marion Morehouse.
Later collections extended his typographical and grammatical experiments further though they have been criticised for a lack of development in terms of tone and subject matter. Cummings died from a brain haemorrhage in 1962. Cummings was honoured with many literary awards in his life though critical opinion was divided and remains so over his legacy: some dismiss his work as sentimental and politically naïve, whilst others value him for his anarchist and mystical beliefs. What is indisputable is his status as one of the most widely read and popular American poets...." http://www.poetryarchive.org/poet/e-e-cummings
27 Jul 15
Originally posted by Grampy Bobbyto all the poets
Originally posted by HandyAndy
[b]I think e.e. was able to spell better than that.
________________________
Think whatever you choose...
"E. E. Cummings (1894-1962) was born and brought up in Cambridge Massachusetts, and is remembered above all for his startling innovations in syntax and typography. His early experiments in poetry whi ...[text shortened]... most widely read and popular American poets...." http://www.poetryarchive.org/poet/e-e-cummings[/b]
that didn't know it
RHP rhymers
even first timers
I would like to
celebrate you
28 Jul 15
Originally posted by Grampy BobbyO sages standing in God’s holy fire
... and so those were the mornings and evenings of both the 11th and 12th days
which somebody forgot with our visiting poet e.e.cummings on center stage....
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.