~ meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world ~    [Author's Home Page!]
  338718   Poems Read   


[Poetry PoetryPoem] [Poetry Search] [Contact Us] [FREE Site] [Home] [Poets] [Login]


Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

All Beings Considered

I Long For Stars

The Best Revenge (For All Your Critic's Critiques)

Your Next New Dying Black Swan



The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

All Too Clearly Now

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Informed Through Pain

Sometimes In Losing I Have Gained A Lot

A Man Of The Clouds

The Birds Are Such Un-numbering Creatures of Distant Hitchcockian Past

Accountants

Shrine

Didn't You Learn That First Lesson In Kindergarten?

They Grew (A Poem From The Imaginarium)

Cuba Libre

Dragons

Max on the max

The Little Bird Said

The Factory of Resentments

When My Blues Are Gone

Expect Yourself

TONIGHT

I WILL RETURN

Silver-Tongued Devil

Within The Green Wind Becomes The Fall

Think On This--IF YOU WOULD

Open Lines

You Got Your Lilly Back

More Poetry >>

In Response to Denise Levertov

So what?
Denise doesn't like
the over round words
the unpleasantly plump sounds
of happiness of peace
of sunsets
and picnics where everyone
gorges on cold noodle salad.
No, me thinks she doesn't like them in the least.
But if only these picnics
were in graveyards like
days of old,
then she might believe a little less that they stink.
Denise would be pleased
should all bright round words
by death
be taken by the throat and strangled cold.
But if optimism
like jello at a Midwestern potluck
should abound,
Close cultured ears
dear listeners,
begs Denise,
to any and all beaming sounds.
No poem should ever release,
but strangle
and drag everyone down.
Tis better to remind us
that for our live's entirety
we have allbeen clowns.
Perhaps Denise
you're right,
but only to your opinions at the very least.
Though its truer than true
my poetry
and that of others
maybe bloated,
and somewhat confessional,
somewhat like a penitent to a priest.
Yet, unlike a nun
you are not
keeping your silence
of what you must consider
prettied poetry.
To you,
mass poetry is a violence,
it is a murder.
Perhaps even intellectual blasphemy.
Have I  belabored my point
somewhat beyond its proper length?
Still I feel I must go on.
My point assuredly has its merits.
My points assuredly has its strengths.
Denise,
you may opine
on poetics and poets
as much and as long as you may wish.
How you must loathe
poems built upon golden couplets,
a common writer's allergen
so much like spoiled tuna fish.
And any man
or any woman
who attempts to put
thought to pen
is not always be what you consider
to be disingenuous,
nor like drinking a strichnine cocktail
you calamitous hen in a foxes den!
Denise
I have to admire you
I have to a point,I guess I always will.
I've perused you often.
I once pinched a collection
of your works
when I had no money
to pay the bill.
But Denise
you cannot stop the mass production
of silly purplish poems.
Relax a bit and
let us all think
we're still poets
while you continually protest
with all of your renewed gusto and groans.



After reading a poem by Denise Levertov about BAD POETS and their BAD POETRY.
Yes, Denise, I believe, you did inspire me to write another bad one. We all have to
laugh at and then live with ourselves, now don't we?

Melissa A. Howells/MELOO Tilt-a-World                Copyright November 23rd 2010.





Vote for this poem

In Response to Denise Levertov


Comments

  -



©2000 - 2019 ------- Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors

Sign Guestbook Read Guestbook

   Tell someone about this Poem.    blank

[ Control Panel ]
Last 100 Poems

Search over
400,000 poems!