"Do you appreciate poetry?" Topic

Poems condense profound meaning into a few lines of words, and poets use figurative language to build a bridge of understanding for readers. Do you appreciate poetry?

I have enjoyed some poetry and written a few not-too-good poems. I went through a phase. I do not regularly read poetry.

I appreciate the work / effort involved in creating it; personally, I have no use for it.

Some, but like everything else, poetry is bound by Sturgeon's Law. Maybe even more so.

I have written doggerel verse in blatant imitation of my betters.
I could be sued for copyright infringement.

Poems written for the sake of poetry no, but I have read text that beautiful and poetic.

Yes, I do.

Yes, I do, too!

I have some poems and passages memorized, and cherish their discovery.

TVAG

meh

Nope, I am an uncouth savage that believes if you want to say something, come out and say it. Don't bandy around the bush or badger something to death. Matter of fact, I now need to go look up "bandying" to make sure that means what I think it means.

There was a gamer from Nantucket
Who rolled his dice by the bucket

He said with a grin
As he rolled them agin'

If that bonus don't count
Then deduct it

Yes.

The limerick is furtive and mean
and must be kept under strict quarantine

Or it escapes to the slums
and quickly becomes

Disorderly, drunk
and obscene.

The Summer night freezes
As the crickets mute their claims,
Hesitantly pondering
About the dept of poetry.

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Yes.

I enjoy reading and writing poetry. Like any other medium, I like some of it and don't like other bits.

"So. The Spear-Danes in days gone by
and the kings who ruled them had courage and greatness.
We have heard of those princes' heroic campaigns."

- Beowulf, translated by Seamus Heaney

This is the forest primeval.
You can see 6 inches into it.

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I wonder if WRG rules would have been any clearer if written in dactylic hexameter?

If the Wild Bowler thinks he bowls,
Or if the Batsman thinks he's bowled,
They know not, poor deluded souls,
They come to Death all unconsoled.

*I* am the Batsman and the Bat,
*I* am the Bowler, and the Ball,
The Umpire, the Pavilion cat,
The roller, wicket, stumps, and all.

BRAHMA, by Andrew Lang.

I always liked the WWI British poets Wilfred Owen and Rupert Brooks.

What passing-bells2 for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England.

If it's Kipling's poetry then yes.
None finer for a wargamer.

Yes. Why would one not?

Ron

Yes. But I dislike a lot of undisciplined modern poetry.

Vitai Lampada

There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night—
Ten to make and the match to win—
A bumping pitch and a blinding light,
An hour to play and the last man in.
And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat,
Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,
But his captain's hand on his shoulder smote
'Play up! play up! and play the game! '

The sand of the desert is sodden red,—
Red with the wreck of a square that broke; —
The Gatling's jammed and the Colonel dead,
And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.
The river of death has brimmed his banks,
And England's far, and Honour a name,
But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks:
'Play up! play up! and play the game! '

This is the word that year by year,
While in her place the school is set,
Every one of her sons must hear,
And none that hears it dare forget.
This they all with a joyful mind
Bear through life like a torch in flame,
And falling fling to the host behind—
'Play up! play up! and play the game!

Sir Henry Newbolt

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or for something less dramatic:

The Parting Glass (great to sing with a guitar and some beer)

Of all the money that e'er I spent
I've spent it in good company
And all the harm that ever I did
Alas it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all

If I had money enough to spend
And leisure to sit awhile
There is a fair maid in the town
That sorely has my heart beguiled
Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips
I own she has my heart enthralled
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all

Oh, all the comrades that e'er I had
They're sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had
They'd wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I'll gently rise and softly call
Good night and joy be with you all

As long as it gets to the D*MN point. I can't stand any kind of writing that doesn't make a concise point.

Yes.

From Beowulf to Dylan (Nobel laureate for his poetry in 2016!).

Actually – earlier than Beowulf is still cool.

I enjoy reading some poetry … but not much of an frequent flyer.

I like hearing poetry spoken well but with the dyslexia written poetry is a loss.

x42

Edit:- Just add some favorites

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As I age, I appreciate it a lot more. The effort to put an idea down in as few words, or as few enlightened words as possible and have a metre to it…..I appreciate that a lot more now than when I was younger.

"Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun."
-JRRT

Yes, but only, if you will, disciplined verse--rhyme and meter in modern English. I don't care for "blank" verse, and I can't discuss "free" verse without either shouting or giggling.

I love poetry, both high and low (a needless distinction, actually); so reading, say, Service or Kipling is just as much fun as Milton, Keats or Byron. There's a time and place for each. And one mustn't forget nonsense poetry: Carroll, Lear, Nash and Belloc are tremendous fun.*

For my taste, some of the best can be found in the psalms of the King James Bible.

*Belloc did equally well in the serious category. His "Ha'nacker Mill" and "To the Balliol Men Still in Africa" are hard to beat.

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A.E. Houseman comes to mind for me. Specifically-"Epitaph For An Army Of Mercenaries" or George Patton's "Through A Glass Darkly".