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On Poetry's Demise

`

when the clack of keyboards cease
and pages of unbound books
scattered by the indolent breeze
produce a melancholy dirge

think of all the unwritten words
that remain stillborn in the mind
much like the gilded pheasant
out of the snare and into the fire

`

Last few words: 
A musing on the death of poetry. If there such a thing be.
Editing stage: 

Comments

I believe if the world were without poetry and music the colour would go out of all our days, I loved this small poem I have one very close to this one speaking of a world without words

nice work I have to say when I opened the page I wanted to read more but your two stanza's work just as well, im just greedy sometimes lol ;)

love JC x

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

Thanks for that. You know that I don't believe that poetry will ever die. For as long as it is read, shared, spoken, taught, and enjoyed and written, it shall live on. It is a rich enough theme to write a much longer piece with. ANd I shall diarise that task and post it up when it is completed. Have a blessed day!

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

I dont believe it will ever die while ever poets write it, the people will read it

smiles ~

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

poetry will not demise ever
as you know too
you have given it life
in your stanzas two
how can you ignore
what you yourself do ???

loved

through sarcastic poetry! Long live Poetry!

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

for

cryptic

you may change to

CRITIC

you are astoundingly good at it
what of sarcastic????
who u or me??

loved

Surely, you jest!
I am too soft in the head and too disorganised to be a critic.
I am not one to be muddled with restrictions and rules and squared and boxed and trimmed.
As for sarcasm, it was the poem being sarcastic in tone
and not neither you nor I!
:-)

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

a tone of joy
even in mundane
but your words give life to a living being
a soul to enjoy

sweet words always ring

above all the world is
and should be,
if not ought to be
made by strings of human
as human as you
and friend of all Neopoets
yes so true ..
its been long since we spoke

loved

through verse and poetry we converse
of topics broad and diverse
that cup a heart & the entire universe
to keep in mind & tuck away in a purse.

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

with open lips one purses
so many say wow
you
who??

but with simple poetic words
do play
and then go for
a replay

loved

Hi, I'm new here so it's a bit like being at a very large party saying hello. Anyway, hello - . i have often worried about all those words that disappear. maybe they don't, really - just stay stored up for future use, some where in the stratosphere for other people to find. Lovely poem.

Jenifer

Welcome to Neopoet! And what a good start to find you straight into commenting and sharing ideas. Yes, poetry exist because we exist. It is the external expression through what we call poetry that reflects the richness of the human soul and experience. Many thanks for your visit and response. I hope you have many such pleasurable returns here and in all of Poetryland!

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

and sound thoughts.
I found the last two lines a bit troublesome
'gilded pheasant'? Is that a reference I'm missing, it's an odd image.
'out of the snare and into the fire'
Meaning is unclear here. It seems to this old carnivore that if a pheasant is caught in a snare, it's purpose is to go into the fire and be gobbled up. Perhaps comparing it to flying free. I don't know. That bit just didn't quite work for me.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Managing Directors, with Richard (themoonman)

The gilded pheasant refers of poetry or art or passion, something of value to us which is sacrificed in flame, as it were in primitive religion, for the sake of something more 'practical' or base in the pyramid of human needs. A bit of a picture portraying the day jobs that put bread on the table but not satisfy the soul or the mind that it constantly desires to satiate. Therefore, it can be seen as a snare, both the chasing after art over survival or the drudgery of mundane occupations to eke out a living.

I am just the slightest bit disappointed that this didn't quite come across clearly over the gap. Thanks for the feedback, it has taught me a couple of things. Cheers.

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

I can be quite dim at times. No-one else seemed to have a problem with it.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Managing Directors, with Richard (themoonman)

Much obliged to you. Your time and concern have not fallen on deaf ears.

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

it does spark
even when its not dark

loved

to be aglow in the light of day
sparking or sparkling along with the brilliant rays of the noonday sun'
we must then have sunglasses or welder's masks to protect our eyes
so only the kernel of truth and not the flash and flowery bouquet to distract us.

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

I Google when my eyes go blind
and that's more often
than not

loved

arkayye?

Seems like astroannie didn't quite get it either. Perhaps I'm not so dim after all.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Managing Directors, with Richard (themoonman)

Funny though that you would compare yourself to astroannie. That would be the height of self-deprecation.
And I wish you wouldn't talk that way about yourself.

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment
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