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09-10-2012, 07:04 AM | #61 |
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"James Augustine Aloysius Joyce was an Irish novelist and poet, considered to be one of the most influential writers in the modernist avant-garde of the early 20th century. Joyce is best known for Ulysses (1922), a landmark work in which the episodes of Homer's Odyssey are paralleled in an array of contrasting literary styles, perhaps most prominently the stream of consciousness technique he perfected."
"All Day I Hear the Noise of Waters by James Joyce All day I hear the noise of waters Making moan, Sad as the sea-bird is when, going Forth alone, He hears the winds cry to the water's Monotone. The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing Where I go. I hear the noise of many waters Far below. All day, all night, I hear them flowing To and fro." |
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09-10-2012, 06:32 PM | #62 |
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Kast, you've started things up really well! Estrella, I love your poem, it's brilliant!
I'm going to keep trying with that iwl thing, I didn't like the result I got the last time I tried it. H. P. Lovecraft is far more interesting!
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09-10-2012, 06:39 PM | #63 | |
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09-10-2012, 08:57 PM | #64 |
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I tried out the website, and entered an entire poem I had written and got one author, then different stanzas of the same poem, which resulted in different authors each time. I entered the entire poem again, and got a different author than the first time I entered the entire poem. In my opinion, I didn't find it to be very accurate.
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09-10-2012, 11:37 PM | #65 |
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Hi Holly, I've never done any
Gogyohka: • 5 lines of free verse • No set syllable pattern • Short & succinct lines, governed by the duration of a single breath • Captures an idea, memory, observation or feeling in a few compelling words I think you did a great job at capturing the format with an excellent poem! Kudos. As far as the iwl website goes I'm not sure about it yet, I haven't entered anything into it yet to see. I studied and wrote one in the style of Poe, Frost, Dickens, etc... if I plug those in and it says some other Master - then... (of course, my emulations were 'spot on' (rolling eye emoticon here... uh huh)). Right now, we're just having fun with it and looking at some of the Masters that it tags. There might be a better analyzer out there somewhere, I'd have to look? SNYCF - tell us more about who you came out with and why you don't like or agree with that opinion? Yes, Lovecraft is pretty interesting, I'd like to read some more of his 'stuff'. |
09-11-2012, 12:52 AM | #66 |
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What I just wrote in 9 words ...
A child stands
rouged with a bouffant that could only come from hell She is static as a deer caught in the headlights on a deserted country road As one parent works away the years in a foundry hot as the hell from which this child's hair was created The other parent takes latitude and with lassitude appalling believes cheap glamour a blessing The small girl trapped within someone else's dream learns how to blow the audience a wise and ancient kiss And who I write like, according to www.iwl.me? Vladimir Nabokov...
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09-11-2012, 04:42 AM | #67 |
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Vladimir Nabokov
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/22/bo...fire.html?_r=1
"Nabokov’s English poems share some of the qualities of his prose, notably its confident lucidity (Nabokov is complex, but never garbled) and elegantly unfolding inventiveness. While the poems are slightly simpler in diction than the typical Nabokovian sentence, his fondness for half-dollar words is still much in evidence: over the course of 10 pages, we get “prototypic,” “anchoret,” “scholiastic” and “dendrologists.” And as you might expect, Nabokov fixates on — and is sometimes fixated by — formal prestidigitation. Notice the way he not only juggles the potentially heavy rhymes in the tercets that conclude “Lines Written in Oregon,” but throws in a little French and German as well: And I rest where I awoke In the sea shade — l’ombre glauque — Of a legendary oak; Where the woods get ever dimmer, Where the Phantom Orchids glimmer — Esmeralda, immer immer. The poem, which recalls Nabokov’s own visit to Oregon, is about the interaction of Old World and New (thus the French and German, which would otherwise be little more than showing off). But there’s an additional, subtle formal touch. The poem’s unusual trochaic meter is also used in Longfellow’s “Song of Hiawatha,” one of the definitive early poems of America — and that meter in turn was inspired by the Finnish “Kalevala,” one of the great mythic poems of Europe. It’s an ingenious fusion of structure and theme." |
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09-11-2012, 04:52 AM | #68 | |
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The 9 Words, and thank you Arwen for all the years of hostessing for us, what can we say about the 9 Word format? What does this poem mean to you and I'm wondering what the 9 Words were and how much they influenced this poem? |
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09-11-2012, 07:45 AM | #69 | |
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static deserted glamour child foundry latitude kiss blessing hell I provided them as they randomly floated into and through my brain; then thought ack! What could anyone come up with using those words? What the poem came to be about (led by glamour, child, and hell) is those little girls whose bizarrely obsessed mothers spend ridiculous sums of money doing odd and inappropriate things to stick these innocent little beings into beauty pageants, a practice I personally find offensive and indefensible, no matter how much of an industry has grown around it. These little children are objectified, and by the time they are 5 or 6 years old are veterans with a competitive edge against other little girls. Anyway, the poem grew out of the words, which is one of the things I've loved about Arwen's thread through the years.
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09-11-2012, 01:44 PM | #70 | |
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09-11-2012, 05:25 PM | #71 |
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insensible
i wrote this in september 2008, election year. i've never been able to find my place in politics. always feels like a depression of sorts. and this, ...
death is merely a deviation, a digression from living, but not life and death doesn't just show up out of the blue like some alien from outer space. we can see change coming from a mile away but still wallow in ... what we don't know, won't hurt us it's like being surrounded by false hope dressed in a gracious heart. breathing on the brink of an answer that is neither here nor there and much easier said than done. we try to make choices feel right but the choices are all wrong and then fall on our knees to pray for the kind of rain that washes the blood off the concrete. some people run without a caring consequence until they run out of their shoes. most are insensible, and living is numb on the right side of hell ... in an america that has gone mad with greed, and mad with you and me. mac |
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09-12-2012, 05:22 AM | #72 |
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Wow, Mac! wow, wow... Don't get me started on this topic... that's about the time I left America. But, when you're far away for a long period of time - you'll miss her right down to the center of your soul like no other lover, boogers and all. She is messed up not like her old self, but I love her unconditionally like a mother loves her child because I know she holds hope and promise... and so much more.
Just out of curosity, I plugged your poem into the analyzer, it says you write like Margaret Atwood. America could be a euphemism for her "A Sad Child": "A Sad Child by Margaret Atwood You're sad because you're sad. It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical. Go see a shrink or take a pill, or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll you need to sleep. Well, all children are sad but some get over it. Count your blessings. Better than that, buy a hat. Buy a coat or pet. Take up dancing to forget. Forget what? Your sadness, your shadow, whatever it was that was done to you the day of the lawn party when you came inside flushed with the sun, your mouth sulky with sugar, in your new dress with the ribbon and the ice-cream smear, and said to yourself in the bathroom, I am not the favorite child. My darling, when it comes right down to it and the light fails and the fog rolls in and you're trapped in your overturned body under a blanket or burning car, and the red flame is seeping out of you and igniting the tarmac beside you head or else the floor, or else the pillow, none of us is; or else we all are." |
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09-12-2012, 06:05 AM | #73 |
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To improve, learn or to confuse myself - I sometimes go study a Master's style to see what I can learn from them. I have found that the more I learn, the less I know. Ok, finally testing the analyzer to see if it is on or off target. Here's one I wrote as a tribute to William Blake in the 9 Words:
Fluid, round, stone, brook, life, sang, polish, tone, & quiet "Tribute to William Blake" You are a sick, sick rose! The invisible round worms That eat man's souls Have found a place in your bed. The many, the few, the one... Let the fluid of your black blood Cast out life in the brook's song Let no stones be polished. The tone of your voice Is likened to a hissing snake So quiet you think we cannot hear, That you are one sick, sick mf'er! Most everyone is familiar with his "Sick Rose", let's see how close I am to his?: "The Sick Rose By William Blake O Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy." The analyzer says I write like J. K. Rowling (I'm just thankful that I write like somebody). It wasn't in the style of Blake with his 'O' and 'thou' and 'thy' - for sure, it was more of a 'theme' thing that I was stealing... (and as you can see - I didn't steal too much, lol) ok, I'll try another one later. The jury is still out on the analyzer... Does anyone have an idea of what my and Blake's poems are about? |
09-12-2012, 06:43 AM | #74 |
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J. K. Rowling
I think whomever said, 'curosity killed the cat' should be number one on the list of geniuses. I'm not a big J. K. Rowling fan and just went to look at her style.
I see that she has a $1,000 prize in a poetry contest at: http://www.poetrycontest.com/j-k-rowling/ I am not promoting this, know nothing about it, have never entered one but do know that there have been many scam sites to pay money to enter, etc. I'm just pointing this out to whomever might be interested and wants to check it out. "Grigotts Wizarding Bank poem: by J. K. Rowling Enter, stranger, but take heed Of what awaits the sin of greed, For those who take, but do not earn, Must pay most dearly in their turn, So if you seek beneath our floors A treasure that was never yours, Thief, you have been warned, beware Of finding more than treasure there." |
09-13-2012, 10:00 PM | #75 |
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The answer is: the social engineers.
It's going to take me a while to find those other poems, in the meantime, I went looking for other writing analyzers and there's not another one like this (that I can find). I did see a writing editor helper at: http://www.editminion.com/ |
09-14-2012, 08:53 AM | #76 | |
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I so agree...
I agree with your analysis, Kast. Actually, I loved it - you know how I love rhyming.
p.s. I am totally craving fish now! Quote:
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09-14-2012, 09:37 AM | #77 | |
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It totally 'directs' the reader exactly where you want them to be, in this case, staying at your hotel....and eating fish..lol..yep!..GREAT!
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09-15-2012, 05:06 AM | #78 | |
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I was feeling something strongly the other day and it reminded me of a poem I had written. Then, I had another fond memory of another I had written, I guess there's only a handful out of the many that we might write that we call our 'babies'. Yes, I consider certain poems like my children, all the steps of bringing a child into the world are there (in a different form) to bring the poem about. Bring your adorable, cute, ugly (lol) 'children' in here for us to get a gander at?... these are nice people here and if it has an issue, I'm sure it'll be pampered anyway...
You know I've always liked your poetry, Cinderella. I asked you one time how you managed your syllables and you said 'I can just tell when a word is out of place' or something like that. In other words, you're a natural unlike myself. For fun or whatever, I'm using this poetry analyzer to mostly boost the self esteem or encourage the poet. (We're not exactly sure if it's accurate or what criteria it's looking for to make a comparison. I'm sure if we put several of ours in, we'd probably get different answers?) I plugged your first poem in: Quote:
(Also, poet's feel free to put one of yours in the analyzer and give us your opinion on how or why you feel it's accurate or inaccurate.) |
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09-15-2012, 05:39 AM | #79 |
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Neil Gaiman
It seems, at first glance, that he's a storyteller of sorts. Everyone loves a good story and I'm sure back in the times of old - these were the people that would stand around the fire at night and amuse, earn their keep by reciting a 'yarn', and were very much loved in the community... (gosh, my imagination - can someone catch it! - it's running down the path there...) lol
"Instructions by Neil Gaiman Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never saw before. Say "please" before you open the latch, go through, walk down the path. A red metal imp hangs from the green-painted front door, as a knocker, do not touch it; it will bite your fingers. Walk through the house. Take nothing. Eat nothing. However, if any creature tells you that it hungers, feed it. If it tells you that it is dirty, clean it. If it cries to you that it hurts, if you can, ease its pain. From the back garden you will be able to see the wild wood. The deep well you walk past leads to Winter's realm; there is another land at the bottom of it. If you turn around here, you can walk back, safely; you will lose no face. I will think no less of you. Once through the garden you will be in the wood. The trees are old. Eyes peer from the under- growth. Beneath a twisted oak sits an old woman. She may ask for something; give it to her. She will point the way to the castle. Inside it are three princesses. Do not trust the youngest. Walk on. In the clearing beyond the castle the twelve months sit about a fire, warming their feet, exchanging tales. They may do favors for you, if you are polite. You may pick strawberries in December's frost. Trust the wolves, but do not tell them where you are going. The river can be crossed by the ferry. The ferry- man will take you. (The answer to his question is this: If he hands the oar to his passenger, he will be free to leave the boat. Only tell him this from a safe distance.) If an eagle gives you a feather, keep it safe. Remember: that giants sleep too soundly; that witches are often betrayed by their appetites; dragons have one soft spot, somewhere, always; hearts can be well-hidden, and you betray them with your tongue. Do not be jealous of your sister. Know that diamonds and roses are as uncomfortable when they tumble from one's lips as toads and frogs: colder, too, and sharper, and they cut. Remember your name. Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found. Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped to help you in their turn. Trust dreams. Trust your heart, and trust your story. When you come back, return the way you came. Favors will be returned, debts will be repaid. Do not forget your manners. Do not look back. Ride the wise eagle (you shall not fall). Ride the silver fish (you will not drown). Ride the grey wolf (hold tightly to his fur). There is a worm at the heart of the tower; that is why it will not stand. When you reach the little house, the place your journey started, you will recognize it, although it will seem much smaller than you remember. Walk up the path, and through the garden gate you never saw before but once. And then go home. Or make a home. And rest." |
09-16-2012, 05:09 AM | #80 |
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Looking for something else, I found this:
Helping writers get inspired and find places to publish. Find calls for submissions, contests, journals accepting work, and publishers. http://www.placesforwriters.com/ Places a writer writes from - Past and Present Tense: http://tabwriter.blogspot.de/2011/02...ent-tense.html "But if we mix the two, we get the best of both worlds. We get the reflection and the wisdom that comes with it, plus the immediacy of how the character is feeling at the time she’s telling the story. A definite win-win for both reader and writer. " http://tabwriter.blogspot.de/p/artic...-and-lots.html |
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