Why is poetry dead?

Because the combination of song writer and recorded music displaced it. A song is much more accessible to the average person than a poem, and technology made songs widely available. Poetry responded to its diminished status by retreating into narcissistic incoherence. Sure the philistines may not recognize the true greatness of modern poetry, but at least poets could take comfort in their own self-declared cultural superiority. When public rejection became a necessary characteristic of great poetry, then there was no longer any hope.

It’s not correct to say a poet is the same as a song writer. It’s easier to write lyrics for a song because the song writer can lean upon the music. The poet has only words (and at one time such archaic concepts as rhyme and rhythm and meaning and significant subject matter) to carry his message. Poetry is a much harder art form. But better Dylan than a modern poet who composes what passes for poetry in this day and age. Better to let the dead decompose undisturbed.

commentary by Carl Jacobs at The Spectator

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Defunkt Poetry

You are strangling me with your love
in your hotel room of permanent disorder
I cry for help – for open air / you close the window and I pass out
between your walls / in your arms…

I slept alone for many whole nights / but one more minute / and I will kill you
you look at me as if you had no eyes / but when you touch me / I have no skin

You made love to a photocopy / and left the room / in perfect order
by leaning out of the window / and traveling / by ambulance

strangling me with your love…  (x 4)

You are strangling me with your love
in your hotel room of permanent disorder
I cry for help – for open air / you close the window and I pass out
between your walls / in your arms…
(chokin’ to death)

strangling me with your love…
(chokin’…)

strangling me with your love…
strangling me with your love…

⊕ ⊕ ⊕ ⊕ ⊕ ⊕ ⊕ ⊕ DEFUNKT ⊕ ⊕ ⊕ ⊕ ⊕ ⊕ ⊕ 

…and for you funky Germanophiles

 

When Cows Come Home

 

cow come home

The ranch-bound bovines, in dehydration,
yet wary of Kool-aid, declined to drink.
They grazed in wonder, cowed rumination:
where does “beef” come from?  A herd tends to think

of pasturage, water, and basic needs.
Ranch-hands assured them all was in order;
privileged guests enjoy the finest  feeds.
Cows, content on this side of the border

try Buddhism, yoga—or simply gaze…
though things in the distance loomed ominous
(those lots at the edge of the well-hoofed ways)
and a stench wafted into their consciousness.

Calves frolicked on while bulls mounted heifers—
dreamed vegan dreams as they nibbled grasses
some earned doctorates, others went clubbing;
all loosed sustainable methane gases.

Soothing their calves with fables and stories
where cows are the measure of pastured life
they deflected the gist of the young ones’ queries,
affirming that Truth means avoidance of strife.

“It’s best to just graze. Don’t ask questions dear.
We’re on this planet without any clue.
We evolved. From just what is a little unclear—
but Cow Science has proved that it’s true.”

 

 COW IMAGE: wallpapersus.com

 

 

Poetry is Dead: WTH Happened?

The current culture of instant memes, meaning and 30-second bites of information is forcing readers to abandon anything that involves several reads. Poetry needs to simmer, and today’s society only accommodates things that can be thrown into the microwave for a few seconds and then consumed on the drive to work. We have mobile phones, social networking sites and a lot of other distractions to fill our time. All that is left of poetry in the mainstream media is pop music, which can be overly stylized. Poetry has a meditative aspect to it. It’s about taking a poem and going somewhere quiet to mull it over. People are no longer interested in that, their attention spans crave constant stimulation.

 

Daniel Zomparelli