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posted by Cinders
I've been slowly but steadily coming to the conclusion that mga tula as an art form is quickly losing its flavor amongst the iPod generation. And I'm not talking about contemporary poets who don't get read sa pamamagitan ng the masses, because as Gertrude Stein would say, "Those who are creating the modern composition authentically are naturally only of importance when they are dead because sa pamamagitan ng that time the modern composition having become past is classified and the paglalarawan of it is classical. That is the reason why the creator of the new composition in the arts is an outlaw until he is a classic." Or, in other words, a poet only matters after his work has been deemed a classic. This has occurred plenty of times in history. The only real audience for contemporary poets is other poets.

No, I am not worried about the contemporary poets so much as I am worried about the classics.

As a lover of mga tula myself, I signed up for a Modern mga tula class because I thought it would be fun to read some of the classic modernists and discuss them with a group of fellow mga tula enthusiasts. Now, as a young American with mga kaibigan of varying interest, I could already tell that the majority of young America couldn't give a flying monkey about poetry. Most of these folks also couldn't care less for literature in general. English majors and avid readers tend to be different. English majors and avid readers are supposed to enjoy literature in general. English majors and avid readers are, mostly, supposed to read at least some poetry.

I learned from a brief chat with my professor that "Modern Poetry" is rarely offered, because little interest is shown in it. And, granted, this was a summer course, but summers at the unibersidad of Washington tend to be quite busy with a bunch of bustling students trying to pack in a few extra credits to graduate early, or to catch up with their graduating class. Including myself, there were three official students of Modern Poetry, and one auditor, who was a very interesting retiree and poetry-lover.

Speaking to the other two students my age, I quickly learned two things about English majors at the unibersidad of Washington: A) That even if they liked literature, most of the time they did not like and, to some extent, even loathed poetry. And B) That an English major is not required to take any classes in mga tula at all, and can easily obtain a degree without ever having to look at a single poem.

Now, some may recall that even I expressed frustration with the mga tula we read in the the chat, or complained about all the essays I was Pagsulat for the class, but in truth I actually rather quite enjoyed it, for all my complaining. But I quickly learned a new thing, about my generation in general (not just English majors). And that is that even a well-read person who knows exactly who you're talking about when you mention Hemingway, has no idea who you mean when you casually mention Stein in the same sentence, even though Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein were not only contemporaries, but good friends.

To my everyday group of high school graduate friends, I throw out names like "Harper Lee," "J.D. Salinger," "F. Scott Fitzgerald," and even occasionally "Albert Camus," "Joseph Conrad," or "Chinua Achebe," they know who I'm talking about because the novels of these authors were required pagbaba in their high school.

If, to the same group of high school graduate friends, I toss out names like "William Carlos Williams," "Wallace Stevens," "Elizabeth Bishop," or even "T. S. Eliot," "Ezra Pound," or "W. B. Yeats," they tend to stare at me blankly.

Why is this, I ask? Why is it that the great novelists of the nineteenth and twentieth century are recognized sa pamamagitan ng my generation, but not the poets? Why do we feel this vague sense of, "Oh, I should know who he is... Wasn't he black?" when we hear the name "Langston Hughes"? Or, "Dang, 'Gertrude Stein,' she sounds super familiar... Wasn't she a lesbian?"

A matulin paghahanap of Fanpop for the major contributors to the modernist canon revealed that the only mentions of any of these names (Williams, Stevens, Bishop, Eliot, Pound, Yeats, Hughes, and Stein) reveal nothing, or if something, an artikulo in which I alluded and/or quoted one of them.

I published an artikulo centering around Hughes' poem the other araw in hopes to stir up a little discussion on the poem. The poem itself was rather incendiary at the time, and some may consider it to be offensive still, which was exactly what I wanted to discuss. It received six ratings, which I was pleased with, and not a single comment.

So this is my tanong that I am posing to you, writers and poets: Did you recognize any of the names I dropped in this article? If you did, can you name one poem any of them wrote? Can you name two? If you can name three, I may have to get down on one knee and propose. Because even amongst English majors, I've found, mga tula is not necessarily a welcome topic of conversation.

Now, why is this? Is mga tula too dry for our short attention spans these days? It has been argued that artists such as John Lennon, Joni Mitchell and Don McLean were the real poets of their generation, and were paralleled with poets like Allan Ginsberg of the Beat Generation. So if this is the case, does that mean I'm wrong? What if mga tula isn't dying? What if it's just slowly evolving into brand new forms, just like us? What if our mga tula is our music? Song lyrics are madami often quoted sa pamamagitan ng teens than any classical lyric. Regardless of whether or not a poem of the canon is timeless or period-specific, it would seem that most of the iPod's generation's interest is in the world, and subsequently mga tula of music. If these popular lyrics were written, or read, and not sung, would they still be popular?

And if they remained popular, why song lyrics and not other poetry? What makes, for exampled, Jason Mraz's "If it's a broken part, replace it/If it's a broken arm then brace it/If it's a broken puso then face it," any madami interesting than Don McLean's, "The silver thorn on the bloody rose/Lay crushed and broken on the virgin snow" or any madami interesting than Wallace Stevens' "People are not going/To dream of baboons and periwinkles./Only, here and there, an old sailor,/Drunk and asleep in his boots,/Catches tigers/In red weather." (Quotes and artists/poets selected at my discretion. From "Details in the Fabric," "Vincent," and "Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock" respectively).

Hm... It's all very tricky, isn't it? I asked my uncle this tanong earlier, and he suggested that it was because music was madami readily accessible to folks nowadays because it's everywhere you turn. Poetry, not so much.

So what do you guys think? Are you a tagahanga of the classic poets? Are you a tagahanga of poets in general? Do you prefer song lyrics, or written poetry? Or do you think they are apples and oranges? Is mga tula dying, or is it just changing to meet the needs of the rapidly shrinking attention span? If it is changing, is it a good thing? Will people still study the modernists (Eliot, Pound, Stein) in the future, or will their work slowly fade into obscurity?

Talk to me! I would pag-ibig to dialog about this.
added by hurricane93
Source: AR
January 1st 2010
Dear Diary, my name is Cassandra (Cassie) Thorp and...
My new years resolutions are...
1. GET A BOYFRIEND!
2. Tell Gwen how much she owes me from last year.
3. Try not to spend hours staring at pictures of Henrie Green (my future husband).
4. Use madami Clean and Clear.
5. Try to gain some weight.(I look anorexic)
6. Feed Pepsi.
7. Stop killing all the goldfish.
8. Shrink.
9. Don't smoke.
10. Earn madami money.

Well, a new year, and I want this one to be better than the last, which is probably a pipe dream but... you never know. I just wish Cerys and Tareesa and Amelia would except me into...
continue reading...
added by IloveMyLord
posted by GreenLight24
Author's Note: Hey, guys! :D I've finally drafted the third installment of the "Blacktie." series. It does require some knowledge of the first two stories posted in order here: link]http://www.fanpop.com/clubs/writing/articles/213262/title/blacktie-revised-version[/url][/url] and here:link]http://www.fanpop.com/clubs/writing/articles/213538/title/blacktie-dinner[/url][/url] This is the story of Blacktie's run-in with a female accomplice! It picks up right where the segundo story left off. Enjoy. :D

Anthony gently pulled at his bow tie and unbuttoned his amerikana as he peered devilishly towards the...
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posted by malmcd
You want to be there. You know you do. Don't lie, dahling. It's okay. I know what you're thinking when you look up at that splendorous place atop the mountain. I
know what fills you, spurs you on, fuels your dreams. You're obsessed with being chosen. Everyone is.
    The Land you thirst for has loomed at the tuktok of the mountain in Metopia for as long as you can remember. But for most of the year, it's covered in fog, it's color changing with each passing araw as if it's a gargantuan mood ring. You begin your mornings staring at the fog, longing for the fateful evening when...
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posted by OlivFirecracker
You laugh at something just not funny and the only thing you do is apologise, even if you don't mean it, you do because the people hearing you laugh do not appreciate it. How could they?

You hear something sad about another and you apologise, because you may feel bad for them but you don't know what to say and you think saying anything else or not saying anything at all is inconsiderate, but it's not fair on you because you don't know what to do with that information.

You did you best to save something or someone for someone else but you fail and you know that you haven't Nawawala anything but...
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posted by serenacullen93
Hello my name is Leila Claudette Xavier the daughter of Max Oscar Xavier. The CEO of Xavier Arms Of War or X.A.W. it is the number one provider of weapons for the arm forces. X.A.W. has been around since world war one we are a family of geniuses mean the Xavier are know for that. I graduated from college when I was ten years old and was valedictorian of my high school class at the age of eight. I’m now fifteen. I woke to the sun pouring thought my baya window here in Virginia tabing-dagat near Camp Pendleton so named after General William Nelson Pendleton an Episcopalian minister at Grace Church...
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added by MJ_Fan_4Life007
posted by MomoThePuppy
Terrence moved slowly, watching where he placed his feet. He didn’t want to step on those certain floorboards that squeaked and risk scaring the small girl. He quietly picked his way across the floor, and stopped at the edge of the child’s bed. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder, and for a moment, his eyes became locked on the stark contrast of their skin tones. She was very light in color, almost a peachy shade. He was dark in tone, close to the color of chocolate. He smiled at this.

“Rosie,” He said, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s almost daylight. Time to get up, kiddo.”...
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posted by Me_Iz_Here
(Not a very creative name, I know)


ONE

I sat on the bed. Doing nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I looked at the clock. Friday, five-fifty-eight PM. Five-fifty-nine. Waiting. Waiting. puso pounding. Counting seconds. Every week. Every week, SHE came. SHE would try to kill me. Then I would scream for help and they would come. Then I would get a lecture that nothing was there, possibly some treatment or whatever. Then susunod Friday at six, it would happen again.
Forty-five seconds. I glanced at the book. I brought it with me. That way, no one else would read it. It was old and leather-bound, and had pictures...
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added by IloveMyLord
video
posted by EmoKidSteven
Well you see
I'm not myself anymore
Well you can see
What I've done
Blinded myself
Nawawala my direction
In this times
That are getting cold
In this moment
To behold
And shine

Here's a poem
For all the loved ones
Here's a grave
For all the dead
Here's the oxygen
For all the living
Here's a tissue
For tears that are shed
I'm Nawawala now
I'm here now
I'm Nawawala here
sa pamamagitan ng Myself
I'm gone now
I'm Nawawala again
I'm lost
sa pamamagitan ng myself

Well take your houses
Take your money
Take the things you don't need
Live the life
You've always wanted
And then burn the memories
Take the good times and the bad
Take the happy maybe the sad
And turn, turn yourself around
I'm Nawawala in my own fairytale
Where I'm the winner
All over again
in my daydreams I've Nawawala all hope
All ambition
Looking and losing an only friend

I'm Nawawala now
I'm here now
I'm Nawawala here
sa pamamagitan ng Myself
I'm gone now
I'm Nawawala again
I'm lost
sa pamamagitan ng myself

I'm lost
I'm here
I'm Nawawala here
sa pamamagitan ng myself

I'm Nawawala now
I'm here now
I'm Nawawala here
sa pamamagitan ng myself

sa pamamagitan ng myself
posted by twilight-rocks9
plz tell me if u like it or if i should write more.


And his hair I pag-ibig it!” my best friend Selene said. I make a gagging sound. “Oh shut up Gabs you’re going to be like this your boyfriend and I’m going to suffer.” she said. “You want to suffer then let me replay what you sound like.” I did a horrible impression of her. “Oh no I have to go bye gabby.” she said. When she got up she kicked sand on my arm. “Bye Lena” I sinabi a little too late. I looked at the suns miryenda on the clear blue ocean. I got up to go swimming when someone put their hands over my eyes and said...
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added by moodystuff449
Source: I made it.
A Formula For Pagsulat A Great Story sa pamamagitan ng Dr. Ken Atchity via FilmCourage.com.
video
Pagsulat
screenwriting
pelikula
may-akda
books
film
filmmaking
telebisyon
added by axemnas
added by axemnas
posted by flabaloobalah
CHAPTER ONE: "CARTER"

There’s one silent sensation of falling really fast and really hard. Then it’s over. Just like that. Somewhere off in the distance, a girl screams. Maybe she’s susunod to me and my damaged ears are playing tricks on me. Or maybe she really is far away from here, wherever that is.
    A flame billowing over a folded up car flicks its vile tongue. The apoy reflects in the pools of blood and the bodies. Five bodies, and myself, still alive. Sirens wail and rescue teams and news vans swarm the scene. I moan and grip my chest, waiting for someone to notice...
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posted by Triscia95
“Caroline I’ve tried everything to prove my self time after time that I pag-ibig you, that I would do anything for you, I’d never let anyone hurt you.” Klaus paused as Caroline stood in the door looking down at the hardwood floor tears rolling down her eyes. “That I would die for you.” He finished. Klaus took one step towards Caroline but as he did she took two steps away.

Klaus’s grieved face turned maasim and full of anger. Nothing he did or sinabi made her realize that if she asked anything he would do it with out a segundo thought. She shook her head and raced out the door.

He wasn’t...
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