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Thread: The LitNet Poetry Anthology – submit here

  1. #31
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    Quote Originally Posted by DieterM View Post
    Lo and behold, I'm back… not from Paris, Texas (what on earth would I do in Paris, Texas? I'm already living in the most "Paris-ish" town imaginable, i.e. Paris, France) but from holidays in my home-country Austria (not the one with the kangaroos, mind you – no, the one with short-haired girls in dirndls dancing/running down grassy slopes while singing "The Hills are Alive…" LOL). Currently browsing one of my best LitNet friends' poetry thread before submitting some of her finest poems (with her approval). I'm glad to see this thread is still alive. And I'm still very optimistic as far as this project is concerned, and I'm certain I'm not the only one who's eager to read your submissions, whether they are old or brand-new. We'll do it!
    Welcome back, dear boy.

    Another thought occurred to me. What if LitNet could already do as they pleased with any material already published on their site (excluding short story contests where your exclusive rights were previously guaranteed) and furthermore has had plans for some while to eventually do on its own what we have proposed? In that case our proposal might come to nothing.

    I came across a world class poem from either five or ten years back. The thread and poem was Say There Are Ten Million Souls In This City. The person who posted it did not name the author, so I have not submitted it. Its quality and lack of an author strongly suggested it would already have been published elsewhere.

  2. #32
    On the road, but not! Danik 2016's Avatar
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    Here you are(unless someone used Auden΄s first verse on another poem):
    http://www.ppu.org.uk/learn/poetry/poetry_against1.html

    I think the silence of LitNet has to do with not having the money for the project.
    Last edited by Danik 2016; 06-30-2016 at 03:09 AM.
    "You can always find something better than death."
    Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, The Bremen Town Musicians

  3. #33
    Registered User DieterM's Avatar
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    @desiresjab I'm not overtly worried about LitNet using our material (can't remember the exact phrasing in the Network Rules, but my memory suggests they do mention that any writer submitting material on here remains owner of his work). Anyway, ever the optimist, I shall go on with this project until someone tells me to stop :-)
    @Danik I don't think it's a question of money but rather a question of "why on earth should we take on such a potentially troublesome project"? I guess they think it's not their role to publish books; they provide a place where people can exchange about literature, that's all (and that's already a very good thing, in my eyes).
    I'm more worried about the relative non-interest my fellow LitNetters show for this project. Oh well, we shall see what comes out of it…
    "Im Arm der Liebe schliefen wir selig ein…" ("Liebesode" - Otto Erich Hartleben)
    New poetry collection available (Kindle and paperback)

  4. #34
    On the road, but not! Danik 2016's Avatar
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    Welcome back from the sunny Alps, Dieter. You may be right about the site, Dieter, but people in general are sceptical about publishing a material that doesn΄t promiss an immediate financial return, I guess.
    Last edited by Danik 2016; 06-30-2016 at 08:43 AM.
    "You can always find something better than death."
    Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, The Bremen Town Musicians

  5. #35
    Registered User DieterM's Avatar
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    Well, sunny, sunny… although we're meant to be in summer, I didn't see much sun (last time I saw the sun was a few thousand rains ago), but it was fun.

    To keep this project going, here a few more suggestions (with the author's consent). Selecting but these few poems was hard for me because I have outed myself some years ago as an unconditional haunted-fan. So here we go:

    "a beach in Maui" by haunted

    http://www.online-literature.com/for...=1#post1311145
    ________

    "high rise" by haunted

    http://www.online-literature.com/for...=1#post1276454
    ________

    "contract negotiations" by haunted

    http://www.online-literature.com/for...=1#post1260027
    ________

    "need professional help" by haunted

    http://www.online-literature.com/for...=1#post1126438
    ________

    "listener" by haunted

    http://www.online-literature.com/for...=1#post1105222
    ________

    "0" by haunted

    http://www.online-literature.com/for...=1#post1001058
    "Im Arm der Liebe schliefen wir selig ein…" ("Liebesode" - Otto Erich Hartleben)
    New poetry collection available (Kindle and paperback)

  6. #36
    On the road, but not! Danik 2016's Avatar
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    Interesting poems, Dieter."Haunted" explores well the multiplicity of meanings in her poems, something I consider very difficult, And her poetry is indeed "haunted".
    Last edited by Danik 2016; 06-30-2016 at 09:51 AM.
    "You can always find something better than death."
    Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, The Bremen Town Musicians

  7. #37
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    Quote Originally Posted by Danik 2016 View Post
    Here you are(unless someone used Auden΄s first verse on another poem):
    http://www.ppu.org.uk/learn/poetry/poetry_against1.html

    I think the silence of LitNet has to do with not having the money for the project.
    Thanks, Danik. I showed my ignorance on that one. Had never seen that Auden poem before. Oh well, at least I knew it was world class. Sort of like hearing Joe Pass play guitar and declaring the guy is great. A dog on the street could do it.

  8. #38
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    Quote Originally Posted by DieterM View Post
    @desiresjab I'm not overtly worried about LitNet using our material (can't remember the exact phrasing in the Network Rules, but my memory suggests they do mention that any writer submitting material on here remains owner of his work). Anyway, ever the optimist, I shall go on with this project until someone tells me to stop :-)
    @Danik I don't think it's a question of money but rather a question of "why on earth should we take on such a potentially troublesome project"? I guess they think it's not their role to publish books; they provide a place where people can exchange about literature, that's all (and that's already a very good thing, in my eyes).
    I'm more worried about the relative non-interest my fellow LitNetters show for this project. Oh well, we shall see what comes out of it…
    It is not the admin's using of our poems, but their project making our own superfluous, that was a momentary minor concern I had. Like you, the apathy (and here and there antipathy) of fellow LitNet poets have temporarily sidetracked me. Few are willing to submit poems of their own. Few are willing to take a deep pockets approach and show their best, for fear of harming later publishing chances, in some cases.

    I believe the latter is a major concern to member poets. But as Yes/No has said elsewhere, the poem is only damaged goods to journals and magazines, not later anthologies or a later collection of individual work. I do not consider literary journals and magazines the last word in poetry. Our book would itself be a publishing credential one could list when asked for publishing history.

    Whoever has a stash of top pieces should bring some of their self-appraised gems out now. Writers have a decent sense of what is their own best work, meaning they consider a piece among their top group of poems, and would usually find this in accord with the consensus. This is a hunch not a statistic.

    Of course, this poem which you (the poet) consider among your best must have been published nowhere else, or I believe we cannot use it in our proposed volume.

    An outsider, a stranger, cannot take a deep pockets approach to submitting your poetry here, only you can, only you know your work that well and its full extent. That is why I value a submission from the author himself over submissions of authors' poems from others, though I value both. Like any publisher, we do not want to see what you are working on but what you have perfected.

    It makes a poet vulnerable to admit simply by the act of submitting here that they believe a poem is among their most select group. That is what submitting here implies, and what submitting anywhere always implies anyway, but usually it is not a public spectacle. That makes it harder.

    People are going to believe you are showing some of your best pieces here, if you submit. Public, though, we must stay, I suppose, or I cannot see the project keeping a head of steam.

    Am I trying to intimidate you? Nah. Send your best. It is what you would do anyway. Here, people know what you think, that is all. Gulp!

    This is not a comment thread for poems submitted, unless Dieter thinks it should become one. I think the opinons will be given behind closed doors by some group of editors from among ourselves, or so I suppose. I don't know. Though poems are submitted publicly, I still think the idea of forum-wide voting is a bad idea. The selection process should be narrower, to keep the quality high.

    No one knows how it will work, precisely. All ideas and any participation are met with a warm glow from myself and all the other lads and lasses on board. Our engineer Dieter has professional inside experience with publishing, so get your tickets, please! This is not a half-scale train ride. Me, I am the barker, self-declared, nothing more. I'll even shut up if it helps.

  9. #39
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    To An Old Poem
    by desiresjab




    Magic from the roots of incantation
    You must have drunk, a seer's ancient soak
    That stirs up charms in ordinary words,
    Releasing dopamine for centuries.




    copyright 2016 by desiresjab lab
    Last edited by desiresjab; 07-01-2016 at 06:53 PM.

  10. #40
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    family tree by Jerrybaldy

    I am this person , this is me,
    I hang from this branch of the family tree.
    I am not so good, it goes unsaid,
    I sense this in the dark, awake in bed.
    When somebody loves me I don’t understand
    how I mustered this magic, sleight of hand.
    I am this person, this is me,
    I hang from this branch of the family tree.
    All that I learn, will die in my bed,
    this storage forsaken, in my bald head.
    These words are no good, for they could be better,
    If my woman quits loving , then f ucking let her.
    I am this person, this is me,
    I hang from this branch of the family tree.
    In my grandchild’s hand, in a dusty attic
    I will be captured in distant static.
    I am the man that linked this chain,
    for you to do it again, then again.
    I am this person this is me,
    I swang as a child on the family tree.
    The blink of an eye, was faster than I
    I barely have time to say goodbye.
    These lines are yours and yours are mine
    all such words will be lost in time.
    I was this person, this was me
    Who ever you are, then you should be.
    I would love to tell you otherwise,
    but meanings aren't meant, its all just lies.

    For those who believe,
    no explanation is necessary.
    For those who do not,
    none will suffice.

  11. #41
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    Blood in the snow by Jerrybaldy

    There’s blood in the snow,
    in the yard
    by the sink hole,
    where I should never go.
    By the sink hole
    where, in summer,
    the golden fruit would grow.

    There is blood upon her stockings
    where it wrinkles by her knees,
    she prays to her god in a blizzard
    to help her this time please.

    There’s blood in the snow
    in the yard
    by the sink hole,
    where I should never go.
    By the sink hole
    she lost the harvest,
    he decided not to grow.

    For those who believe,
    no explanation is necessary.
    For those who do not,
    none will suffice.

  12. #42
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    Cafe scene , sometime. By Jerrybaldy

    An android in the rain with cloudy eyes
    serves me olives.
    I read of recent deaths
    on the table top display.

    Spots burn holes in my jacket.
    Neon lights wash back and forth
    puddled by your feet.
    You hold my flaccid hand
    like a child with a fever,
    blowing smoke straight through
    a Chinese scented steam.

    We could catch the spacetrain out of here.
    Or watch the A67 spacejunk eclispe the moon.
    I feed you noodles like electric veins.
    I think I see mummy in the crowd
    being frogmarched by.
    It's a facsimilie.
    Like this evening's sponsored rainbow
    in our senseless spinning sky.
    Last edited by Jerrybaldy; 07-07-2016 at 06:40 AM.

    For those who believe,
    no explanation is necessary.
    For those who do not,
    none will suffice.

  13. #43
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    On my Knees by Jerrybaldy

    I Part my lips,
    tongue stretched.
    I taste you on its tip.
    Is it you I worship here?
    Pictured between breaths
    and miniature deaths,
    your musk still lingers
    on dry stained fingers.
    A congregated lady coughs loudly,
    a stillborn baby cries from the vault.
    My tongue seeks rice paper
    and clotted wine,
    the sun finds my moles,
    through blood stained glass.
    'Body of Christ', says the man.
    I offer a tortured
    'Amen'.

    For those who believe,
    no explanation is necessary.
    For those who do not,
    none will suffice.

  14. #44
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    the end of the world as we know it but the dog is fine. By Jerrybaldy

    To brush my teeth,
    1 minute thirty seconds,
    half way through at the 45 second mark
    I remember todays meeting
    and the quilt is calling me,
    singing ‘Jerry, Jerry’.
    A singing quilt is no place to rest
    so I go to the garden
    where the sun with its tail
    races through the sky.
    I lay my cheek on the dew soaked grass.
    Last Wednesday I did this for 2 minutes 27.
    Today an ant crawls on my chin,
    I estimate his walking speed
    at 0.3 miles per hour.
    I return to the house for toast
    it pops out of the toaster
    before I have placed it in.
    The sun races ever faster
    streaking through the sky,
    a day becomes 11.5 seconds,
    day, night, day, night.
    Birds no longer fly,
    the sun is an orange streak in the sky.
    A month has passed since the butter melted on my toast.
    I walk out to the car,
    past birds with useless wings,
    flapping as they walk in circles.
    I turn the key four times,
    the average is 3.16.
    Two days pass in four turns of the key
    earth revolves madly
    the blue, black skies are smeared with lights
    the seas are on fast spin
    and heading this way.
    My dog is smoking a pipe
    four legs tiptoeing through breakdancing birds.
    He jumps in the car beside me,
    sets the satnav for the moon.
    My pocketwatch says some time soon.

    For those who believe,
    no explanation is necessary.
    For those who do not,
    none will suffice.

  15. #45
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    The dog, the egg and the everlasting lolly. By Jerrybaldy

    The dog was drowning in the dock yard,
    I watched him from the cafe window,
    as I toyed with egg and chips.
    Like the dog, the crane behind would soon be gone
    like the crane, my egg and chips
    would not be there for long.
    I poked the dog in the morning
    when he washed up on the jetty,
    mottled hair and cloudy eyes.
    Maybe I could have saved him
    and sacrificed my egg;
    I scratched my chin and finished
    my everlasting lolly.
    I decided as I threw him back,
    he never wanted saving.

    For those who believe,
    no explanation is necessary.
    For those who do not,
    none will suffice.

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