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Needle Man.

We saucy skeptics enter the mischievous sounding sub ground level Jazzy lounge.
We breathe inwardly out spoken smoke and sex simultaneously.
We see a shadow grinning soul transfixed in the eye of the stomping foot storm.

Needle man in horny hay stacks is
perhaps some sap pained patron
with less than one will to live melting
slow on skillet scorch dance floors.

Alone among modern men of short cock dreams
in his mocked respect of women's worth.
Yet presently no earth grown flower sees high hopes.
He lacks that, come smell my honor fragrance.

When sudden his nervous neck snapped by ear strings
un-hunched hard up at stage front female redemption.
And there before aching optic sentiment sensors lay
proof indisputable of she so glorious glow talent rose.

Her soft wafting waves of saxophone laced poems slam
the attentions across the spans of once closed conversations.
Ignorant icebergs of what is cool and what is not drip hot confusion
into a judge-less puddle of entranced adults gone child like for her.

A not so slutty, anti-shallow, non-leech, kind harpy.
She got that don’t touch my soft needs chi swank.
Lost herself under lyrical labyrinth lashes.
Redemption she glances with paper airplane throws
at his self chest spread rusted jail cell heart.

His internal booming speeches know no
chance of stage goddess running with open
love arms cast for his passion baited fingers.
But that she be! All he ever and today needs.

Reminding men so sure of less power pussy
that wisdom be lacked to grovel below silky
skill soaked in confident champagne hour
glass figure be damned damsels over distresses.

Heroin over torn dresses and past love messes.
She got that don’t lose faith pensive keystroke.
Parading challenge chords on warriors hearts so keen.
Stirring her dark and stormies over dead heads of cold chauvinists.

We saucy skeptics are reminded from our corner booth #9 perspective.
We are reminded that reciprocation matters not to the man with great vision.
We see that he sees that she be! All he ever and today needs. That she be!

Editing stage: 

Comments

Or dance club. Ronay Scott's came to my mind when I read it

you rely too much on alliteration to create the rhythm, it is too like rap, and the metre varies which is intrusive, going from a formal pattern to run on lines.. if you look at Ss 2 to 5 you can see how each S gets longer, this is a common failing, its as if in writing you are slowly finding your rhythm but don't reach it until S5, then you lose it and fall back into shorter Ss. Also some of your rhymes are corny, dresses, messes, she be.
That said I think the poem is really worthwhile, full of life and great imagery and word power, and above all a sense of immediacy and drama, really stands out from the crowd in terms of poetic power.
I'd suggest you read more modern poetry and get away from the need to have such an obvious driving rhythm.
Best wishes for more great writing.

Interesting that you thought of him as a junkie. I tried to imply what I meant by needle man in the first sentence about him. He is a Needle in a hay stack of horny dog like men. I spend the rest of the poem showing how observant of true feminine beauty he can be. I try to never imply drug use or a fault of his character.

I really appreciate how well you can critique from the perspective of modern poetry. But take into consideration that with my mind I have found it wise to deny myself much formal study of poetry. I still have the ability to reach an audience that is unrefined and lacks articulation. I know eventually I will want to write poetry for poets. But for now I find it more important to learn to communicate with my current generation of rap listeners. They only have crap lyrics being made in the style they listen to. Who is putting decent lessons to the cheesy alliterations and contrived rhythms that they will actually spend a few minutes absorbing? Can your work entertain a 16 year old male with a smart phone in his hand? I am not sure if mine can, but I am working towards it. I keep my mind open to what actually reaches what you might call deaf ears.

My goal is to explore what one might call "obvious" despite the protesting of both refined poets like yourself and my own pride. Communication with the new generation is the challenge for me. A lesson that the indifferent and lethargic baby boomers could learn from. Being proud has left the children in the care of descending television, junk food, and crap music. The content that educates and reinforces lessons like this needs to come from somewhere.

That said, my run on lines do need some trimming. When I read it in my head it is not as a rap but at a hip hop poem spit charmingly to a southern drawl rhythm. If you think rap and hip hop are the same I challenge you to know your world despite your own carefully assembled taste for content.

Thank You for your help and I hope you help me rip apart my other pieces that are more geared towards craft and the currently agreed upon rules of engagement.

_Danny

author comment

sorry about the junkie mistake I was more concerned with your technique than carefully following the content , I'm 65 and Australian so the subtleties of hip hop and rap are of no interest to me.
If your performing your work, I'd stick with that as it employs more talent than just writing poetry. But don't assume you have to protect yourself from 'refined' poetry, that's bullshit, you can still speak in the style you want, the more you know the more you can communicate.

Despite how correct you are allow me to be a bit of a prick here :)

Do not assume you have to protect yourself from "hip hop" because your story that you have built for the last 65 years dictates what interests you as holy and that which does not as dismiss-able rubbish. That is bullshit as well. Even you can learn a lot from how entertaining and clever the impromptu nature of reading your poems aloud in hip hop fashion can be.

Have you read Steppenwolf? One of the most crucial lessons a man of your age can learn from it is that despite your infinite ability to understand the beautiful rules of art and academia have you courageously allowed yourself to learn to dance freely in public? Or are you still bound by the learned and nurtured shackles of shame?

As we speak I have just recently enrolled in a poetry class at the local university. I do find it necessary to continue learning rules so that I may bend them to my will. I simply want to stress that entertaining content needs not wait for great structure and for rules of poem because men like you that have them in spades have stopped striving for the depths of their abilities to communicate them through poem. They level off and think poetry lives on paper or in the stream. But if you dig deep in that ambitious heart of yours you will find that perhaps you are not challenging yourself to be a courageous communicator and that you value subtle expressions that will only reach a small percentage of the world that you actually live in.

Why are wise men content to only play in the shrinking playground that your generation is foolishly clinging to? While this seems offensive it is meant to inspire a genuine conversation about the minds of your generation that have sequestered such brilliance for themselves and for the grave with no intent to altruistically absorb new styles and foreign abilities for the sake of the children of the actual future. Teachers and sages alike no longer developing innovative works of pedagogy. Worried about selfish security in old age and so sure that your mind is done learning new tricks?

To say something is of no interest to you before you have even mildly explored it is a systematic response and a great mistake. I hope I genuinely live far beyond that lesson through the decades of my own artistic life.

Thoughts?

_Danny

author comment

I used to be a dancer and have sung in musicals and choirs and have recited my poems to large audiences. If you look me up on YouTube (Ross Hamilton Hill) you'll see me singing songs I wrote or co-wrote, plus other pieces where I combine my artwork, poetry and guitar music. I'm not saying this to brag but to illustrate the point that the more learning you have up your sleeve the more your artistic career will blossom.
best wishes to you
ross

the playful response I was hoping for...
but for one...please address my confusion in regards to detached and mysteriously successful communication with your generations sages....
and for secondly...related and not....how do you have the guts to stand before YOUR own amazing self and say, "I have no interest in this sub-section of current creativity known as rap and hip hop"..?

You must acknowledge at the very least that you avoid your own creativity's inquisition on such a subject. Answer god damn you!

:)

_Danny

author comment

this is a playful toned message...never did I imagine it would be interpreted as angry.

author comment

respond to that which angers you most in each of my paragraphs rather than simply surrendering a meager protest to the obvious one that incites you the "most"!

author comment

I'm don't like argument based on anger and curses, its negative and destructive, I tried to help you but you just keep raving on in an offended manner, misquoting what I said (eg I said I had no interest in the SUBTLETIES of hip hop and rap, in fact I have listened to both but don't think they're particularly good genres) I shall not bother with you again since you're so busy being angry you start making aggressive insults that have nothing to do with either my life, which you know nothing about or my work which you have never bothered to comment on, no wonder no one on this forum has commented on this poem, basicially you're rude and malignant, I will not be reading you again, your replies lack grace and common decency.

I have read much of your work and love it.
I would have started commenting once I thought I was educated enough to be useful to you in anyways other than my juvenile understanding of imagery and drama. I also do not subscribe to the limitations of an immediately gratifying tit for tat exchange of comments on each others work. If it happens...spectacular! But it cannot be a contrived system of scratching each others backs exactly equally.
If you re-read all of our posts and understand that there was never any anger but rather a young man exploring the strength of a possible mentor I think you will breathe a sigh of relief.
If Leonardo da Vinci, or Nietzsche, or Carl Sagan had been presented with the questions I was asking you they would have taken the time to answer each and everyone. A challenge should not cause us to close doors.
You were momentarily blinded by the thought that this was a personal attack rather than a young man asking a wise old man why the world is the way it is from his perspective.
You chose to only focus on that which you cared about most. The questions that seemed to attack your ego.
I hope to move beyond a place where our egos are so vulnerable or so important to us.
The heroes of mine I have listed above would have risked angering you as well for the sake of an honest and necessary conversation.
I have mastered the craft of grace and common decency. Where has it gotten us but a world that is brimming with indifference, destructive traditions, parents set in their ways, and children left with only websites and television for resources. I abandon common decency in the workshop of poetry because it is a dogmatic anchor. Respect is a very different animal and that was shown by trusting that you were worth asking these big questions in the first place.
If you do take the time to re-read it all with new eyes you will see a student that feels the need to test his teacher before he accepts his teaching blindly.
I have anxiety and sadness in my heart when I cannot get a mind like yours to relax, open up, be playful, and admit some ugliness about themselves, this world, and perhaps their generation. We all have faults and things to learn and I want to learn along side poets that can admit them quickly without fear and move forward.
No one can offend you or hurt your ego if you are open to evolving and confident in who you are. Especially not some punk kid. You are the elder. Use that wisdom to reach me and to teach me. All too often I find men of your strength crumble before the fear of tarnish upon their image...but this does not craft honest poets.

We should live at the edge of our identity for the chance to express that which we can newly imagine with fresh eyes and minds each waking day.

Peace be with you if none of this reaches your heart.

_Danny

author comment

They drive mad first!
Let it not be either of you!

historians have come up with a conservative 2870 of them,
http://wiki.answers.com/Q/How_many_gods_and_goddesses_are_there
but there is really no telling how many, perhaps millions and all just as
ridiculous as the first one.

Danny, I read your poem and can't say I enjoyed it as much as the
conversation between you and Ross. The poem doesn't fall from the
tongue with the music of language but it really is good. It's almost as
if you tried too hard if that makes any sense. I would let this one sit
a while and come back with a culling in mind, just a suggestion, quite
the talent you are and thanks for posting with us.

Richard

I originally did not have it framed with the 3 intro lines and the 3 closing lines. I agree it has become flat in my attempt to add more depth. Contrived is how it feels to me now...maybe time away is all we need.

Thanks

Danny

author comment
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