It's very bad poetry
, but I felt it when I wrote it, one day when I was very lonely, and had a good cry on a rag bag.
This being so, no one liked it when Helen remarked that it seemed to her as wrong to keep sailors as to keep a Zoo, and that as for dying on a battle-field, surely it was time we ceased to praise courage--"or to write bad poetry
about it," snarled Pepper.
Interestingly, besides the constant theme of how bad poetry
is, Bukowski ponders in a 1984 letter to William Packard what is wrong with the poets, first citing Nietzsche: "The poets?
While acknowledging awareness of these significant internal differences among us, let us look now at the mainstream mythology that fed the more or less received notion that what was called "political poetry" was, almost by definition, no matter one's ethnicity, bad poetry
in which the polemical purpose must necessarily overwhelm the poetic.
His inventors portrayed him as utterly apolitical; his self-expression was limited to publishing bad poetry
passionately praising the growth of potatoes.
Less bad poetry
, more good drinking games, and Daniel O'Donnell again.
The final section of the study analyses the sound patterns in a text by the renowned pre-Islamic poet al-Acsha, classified by traditional Arabic critics as an example of bad poetry
, and thus shows ex contrario that the inherent relationship between sound and meaning--that is, the aesthetic merits of its form as much as its content--is just as significant for the appreciation of poetry.
Unless he really does have a habit of wooing women he's just met in a bar with bad poetry
and dodgy doodles.
But if it is true, as Randall Jarrell said, that "any poet has written enough bad poetry
to scare away anybody," then Seidel has to be judged on the best lines and the best poems of his career, where his "macho buffoon" persona first began to take shape and scare critics
With everyone lighting candles, singing hymns and writing bad poetry
, no one in this brain-dead town seems remotely interested in the underlying reasons for the killings of their children--only which one of two terrified girls instinctively tried to survive an incomprehensible horror.
The family celebrated employees by writing bad poetry
in their honour.
As John Berryman remarked, his vehemence against bad poetry
blinded him to the fact that, in taking apart poems he disliked, "a human being [was] also being squeezed.