"...I always thought that the simplest words
Must be enough. That when I say how things are
Everyone's heart must be torn to shreds.
That you'll go down if you don't stand up.
Surely you see that."
-- Bertolt Brecht
Somewhat listless playwright/pretentious intellectual who finds joy in putting poetry together. I'm erratic and (apparently) passionate...if not a romantic nutcase. Only ever had two romantic relationships in my life (counting the current one), which may surprise my readers (reader?), as much of my poetry is concentrated on matters of the heart. I've moved away from that of late though...now I'm attempting to come to terms with my competing urges to write strict form poetry and free flowin' beatnik rants.
Writing is the mirror of personality. It can't be denied, nor can it be hidden, despite how brilliant you may be. Yet one must have a lust for life in order to write great poetry, as the great Irving Layton once said (or was it Iggy Pop?). To be truly satisfied with your own poetry, sometimes you have to reach a level where you're satisfied at the fact that you don't understand it anymore.
I live in Canada. It's rather nice. Very helpful landscape if I ever choose to write about nature. I'm a huge Beckett fan...if not one of the youngest. But I act more like Bogie (I hope) than Vladimir or Estragon.
My policy on poetry critiques:
If you don't like what I've said about your poetry, and you feel a need to tell me what a jackass I am...get over yourself. You're not as good as you think you are. No one is. Just because I don't like your poem doesn't mean it's the end of the world, so please don't send me IM's saying how wrong I am. Generally, I'll ignore you (though, if I'm in the right mood and you push my buttons the right way, I'll tell you to go fuck yourself...in a far more literate, scholarly way of course).
I'm trying to give some constructive criticism among all the blind praise and brown nosing 'round here. It's useless to simply let people pile on meaningless kudos (mostly for points) if you actually are looking to improve your writing...if people can't take it, they either need to develop a thicker skin or STOP WRITING.
But that's enough of that rant. Most people around here are pretty decent, encouraging folk, so don't take that as a condemnation of the entire community. AP can be very useful to serious, budding poets, and I wouldn't be here if it weren't. So go forth and multiple in your poetry, good readers. That's the best thing you can do.
Cheers and love,
Yossarian
"A poem is never too long...unless it's a piece of shit."
-- Me
Errata:
The Spiro Agnew Show and other oddities: www.humanfood.ca
(Ziggy played guitar.)
Must be enough. That when I say how things are
Everyone's heart must be torn to shreds.
That you'll go down if you don't stand up.
Surely you see that."
-- Bertolt Brecht
Somewhat listless playwright/pretentious intellectual who finds joy in putting poetry together. I'm erratic and (apparently) passionate...if not a romantic nutcase. Only ever had two romantic relationships in my life (counting the current one), which may surprise my readers (reader?), as much of my poetry is concentrated on matters of the heart. I've moved away from that of late though...now I'm attempting to come to terms with my competing urges to write strict form poetry and free flowin' beatnik rants.
Writing is the mirror of personality. It can't be denied, nor can it be hidden, despite how brilliant you may be. Yet one must have a lust for life in order to write great poetry, as the great Irving Layton once said (or was it Iggy Pop?). To be truly satisfied with your own poetry, sometimes you have to reach a level where you're satisfied at the fact that you don't understand it anymore.
I live in Canada. It's rather nice. Very helpful landscape if I ever choose to write about nature. I'm a huge Beckett fan...if not one of the youngest. But I act more like Bogie (I hope) than Vladimir or Estragon.
My policy on poetry critiques:
If you don't like what I've said about your poetry, and you feel a need to tell me what a jackass I am...get over yourself. You're not as good as you think you are. No one is. Just because I don't like your poem doesn't mean it's the end of the world, so please don't send me IM's saying how wrong I am. Generally, I'll ignore you (though, if I'm in the right mood and you push my buttons the right way, I'll tell you to go fuck yourself...in a far more literate, scholarly way of course).
I'm trying to give some constructive criticism among all the blind praise and brown nosing 'round here. It's useless to simply let people pile on meaningless kudos (mostly for points) if you actually are looking to improve your writing...if people can't take it, they either need to develop a thicker skin or STOP WRITING.
But that's enough of that rant. Most people around here are pretty decent, encouraging folk, so don't take that as a condemnation of the entire community. AP can be very useful to serious, budding poets, and I wouldn't be here if it weren't. So go forth and multiple in your poetry, good readers. That's the best thing you can do.
Cheers and love,
Yossarian
"A poem is never too long...unless it's a piece of shit."
-- Me
Errata:
The Spiro Agnew Show and other oddities: www.humanfood.ca
(Ziggy played guitar.)
- Last seen on Dec 11 3:18 AM 2008. Member since December 19, 2004.
- I'm a onyx dragon poet for 855 comments.
- My mood is , and quote is "Je suis Marxiste, tendance Groucho".
- I am a 21 year old man (Canada)
- When I'm not writing, I'm a playwright.





- I have 855 comments, 89 poems, 10 stories, 1 philosophy
My Poetry
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We ate edamame, / nestling our skins in pools / of salt and spit...
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You dye your hair to strip off sable stripes / like so many prison breaks16 lines, 1 comment, April 4, 2007. In Love
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My Stories
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Show all at storywrite
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753 lines, 1 comment, May 19, 2006. In 600-2000 words
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My other items
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- Sirena contra gelato at sharepoetry
You dye your hair to strip off sable stripes / like so many prison breaks. / / Stepping from the shower, / leopard spots are drooling down your breasts / and I cannot blame the bottle for spilling. / / You ask me, "How’s it look?" / So I - Edamame Blues at sharepoetry
We ate edamame, / nestling our skins in pools / of salt and spit, sometimes / / sucking them—discarded / saline corsets—hoping / for meat we might’ve missed. / / So when you shucked them in / the trash with an offhand / gesture, noth
Guest Book
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K-Dense on September 17, 2006Thanks for the kind words regarding "The Gospel of judas." please feel free to browse through my allpoetry homepage as well some/any/all of my addtional poetry I have posted on this site.
Also, please feel free to check out the work of my Spoken Word troupe Quarantine Unit at www.myspace.com/quarantineunit
-Curtis Meyer -
Universal ColdWave on May 19, 2006Dear Yossarian,
i admire that your courageous enough to share criticism with others , if you don't mind the offer , a little advice on my work would help , that is only if it appears i need any , please and thank you.
Truth-Diamond 
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Saint-Laurent on October 4, 2005I've also had to write a critiquing disclaimer on my page, cool!
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Yossarian on September 6, 2005That's Havermayer's scene, man. I like evasive manoeuvres...'cept there's no more Luftwaffe to evade.
And Snowden lies dying in the back...he has a secret.
