bastard poetry

I’d do anything to see your funny little expressions
The way your eyebrows furrow together when you are confused,
The way you roll your eyes at someone’s stupidity
The way only your eyes hold anger whilst the rest of your face seems calm
The way you throw your head back as you laugh
I’d do anything to see them all
Yet every time we make eye contact
I will always look away
In fear that you will see the love I have for you in my eyes
—  expressions
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Literature Meme - [2/2] Literary Movements - The Romantic

Romanticism, at its height of popularity in the early and mid nineteenth century, became a dominant form of intellectual thought, art, and literature. Romantic writers and artists of all nationalities, shared a passion for similar values: the importance of human emotion and the the power of the aesthetic.

Often seen as a revolt against the societal changes brought onset of the Industrial Revolution, and as a revolt against the Age of Enlightenment, the writers of Romanticism very often use musings and descriptions of nature or of pastoral settings as a way of expressing"the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.“ Romantics are inspired by the beauty of the natural world and its awe-inspiring sublimity; in becoming one with it, they express their own infatuation with nature, a disgust with scientific rationalization, and their own belief in the authority of human emotion.

Notable romantic writers include:
John Keats
Lord Byron
Percy Bysshe Shelley
William Wordsworth
William Blake
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

I have never wanted to be in somebody’s arms,
Tell them how beautiful they are,
Hold their hand, or kiss them so much,
Until I met you.
But what a shame,
I will never be able to do these things with you.
—  shame
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4

1.06 // 6.05

[insp]

If I don’t like myself,
How do I expect you to fall for me?
How selfish I am to expect such a thing from you,
You imperfect being.
—  || selfish request
Y
youtube

Thou Gloomy December

Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December! 
Ance mair I hail thee wi' sorrow and care; 
Sad was the parting thou makes me remember- 
Parting wi' Nancy, oh, ne'er to meet mair! 

Fond lovers' parting is sweet, painful pleasure, 
Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour; 
But the dire feeling, O farewell for ever! 
Is anguish unmingled, and agony pure! 

Wild as the winter now tearing the forest, 
Till the last leaf o' the summer is flown; 
Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom, 
Till my last hope and last comfort is gone. 

Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December, 
Still shall I hail thee wi' sorrow and care; 
For sad was the parting thou makes me remember, 
Parting wi' Nancy, oh, ne'er to meet mair

[written by Robert Burns 224 years ago - 1791]

I slipped, and fell down the YouTube rabbit hole, and I found Bobby Carlyle reading Robert Burns poetry! And there’s many more on the BBC site.* The one above made me think Rumbelle and their December parting <insert sad Belle-face>. Oh, but this is just beautiful, the way he recites this–and in his accent–oh, my. Guh!
*Although, I can’t get them to play, and the times all say ‘00:00’. Still, the texts are there, along with Bobby’s picture. Maybe the audios can be found elsewhere? 

Some Women are Smarter than Others

Your poems are too short, she said
and have you ever read Kurt Vonnegut?
you will need to familiarize yourself with the school
of New Journalism
Faulkner was a great writer
Hemingway
read Hemingway
go to Paris
or New York
try to travel
get out of California
California is shallow and vacuous
punk is dead
so you might as well give it up
there’s a new sound
and a new band
and this other band that you have to hear
have you ever read Henry Miller?
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas bores me
Tropic of Cancer is a better book
don’t drink so much
why must you drink so much?
all the great writers killed themselves
with the drink
work on writing longer stanzas
work on your meter
go back to school
learn from others
learn to paint
or to play an instrument
everyone can teach you something
stop being so stubborn
you have talent but you’ll never go anywhere
not with that attitude

“Okay”, I said

and then as I left
I reminded her,

“It wasn’t the drink that killed Hemingway
it was the shotgun.”

- A. Ramirez

Some Women Are Smarter Than Others, taken from my book of poetry “Man is the Bastard” which you can purchase on Amazon

Maybe moving on is the best thing
Maybe forgetting you is what I should do
But how could I?
You are the first person ever to make me experience such feelings and emotions
And though they do hurt me
I am happy and grateful that it was you
Maybe you’re my first love, maybe
—  maybe
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21 cigarettes

God tosses a marigold
into the air
or maybe it’s a hand grenade
to bring in the new day

and I roll over
onto my side
to keep the sun
out of my eyes

and I know –
the money’s all gone
and I’ve smoked
twenty cigarettes

I feel like an engine
stuck in
high combustion
lungs on fire
throat ruined

been up for
thirty eight hours
haven’t showered
in three days
hair feels heavy
skin overgrown

thoughts of you now
but only in selected remembrance
filtered through a hungry stomach

I look at pictures and grow sad

cut them
cut this
cut that

there
cut
and I
can’t sleep
thinking of you

accelerating
at 60
going on 100

and my twenty-first cigarette

– A. Ramirez

21 Cigarettes, from “Man is the Bastard” which you can purchase on Amazon.

7

i had a dream where the sky fell down

 the bloodstains won’t come out–no matter how many times i pour warm water on them–they won’t come out

 only words begin to dissolve everything, and get stuck in the drain

and you become unable to forgive yourself, unforgiving

2

In 1996, Reginald Dwayne Betts — a 16-year-old honor student with braces — used a pistol to carjack a man who had been sleeping in his vehicle. Shortly thereafter, he was caught, sentenced as an adult and sent to an adult prison, where he served more than eight years, including one year in solitary at a supermax facility.

“I was 5 feet, 5 inches and 120 pounds. I went to prison with grown men, and I went into what people readily acknowledge as a treacherous and a wild place,” Betts tells Fresh Air’s Terry Gross. “My judge, when he sentenced me, he said, ‘I am under no illusion that sending you to prison will help, but you could get something out of it if you choose to.’ ”

As it turns out, the time he spent behind bars helped shape Betts’ future as a poet. He had always loved to read, but in prison, books — and writing — became a mental escape. One day, when he was in solitary confinement, a fellow prisoner slipped an anthology called The Black Poets under his cell door.

“That’s the book that changed my life,” Betts says. “It introduced me to Etheridge Knight, to Rob Hayden, Lucille Clifton, Sonia Sanchez and so many countless black writers and black poets that really shaped who it is that I wanted to be in the world.”

Betts completed his GED while in prison. After his release in 2005, he continued his education and is now a law student at Yale University. He is also a poet and author. His most recent book is a collection of poems called Bastards of the Reagan Era.

Betts says the name of the book holds double meaning: “First is that it’s this idea of being fatherless, but the other idea is … this notion that whole sort of generation of young people were bastards of an era, of the Reagan era. I think about my own life, I think about the life of people that’s close to me, and I just recognize that we were … we were just lost — lost in time, we were lost in space, and we were struggling to find, I think, a sense of who we were.”

In 'Bastards Of The Reagan Era’ A Poet Says His Generation Was 'Just Lost’

I look at couples around me,
How they hold each other’s hands with such gentle care,
How they lean on each other as if they were their last stable support,
How they kiss each other with their eyes closed and smiles upon their faces,
How they look at one another silently but with unspoken words of love between them.
And I look on with envy and ask myself why I can’t have such love in my life.
Then I remember I have fallen for someone who doesn’t want such things with me.
—  wanting something i will never have with him
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