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Billy Sheppard Cincinnati / United States, Male, 62
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  • POEM: Soulmate by adheez van der beanthz (12/7/2013 10:32:00 AM)

    When in doubt, a poem is about poetry. Right? Not sure about the first stanza. Is the English right in that quatrain? I need to read the poem again. I believe it is about poetry. Poetry is the only companion which seems to live in dreams as it does in the day. A poem is a waking. A poem is a dream. Stuff like that.

  • POEM: The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams (12/7/2013 9:53:00 AM)

    This poem is a kind of test. I don't believe I have the definitive answer. I don't believe there is a definitive answer to the poem, but I do believe the meaning is in the nature of a puzzle. As in any puzzle, we know that we must have all that is necessary to know the answer. It is the nature of a poem to have all the right words. A poem is just right. It's self contained. The form of the poem is the key, but WCW violates the form in an subtle way as the poem progresses. I am content to love this poem. My solutions are nearly adequate to account for my love of the poem, but not quite. I believe the answer that fits the form and content perfectly is that WCW has found in a tiny collection of words a trap to set my mind and heart on a delightful search in to the meaning and value of poetry. The form of this poem continues to evolve and to violate my expectations like a great piece of repetitive music which imperceptibly alters into a very different thing. I can't reduce the poem into a smaller form. I cannot solve it. I can love it and it is short enough to live in it's unsolved state as an object of pure poetic joy. It is its own best explanation. It's just right. I love it. The answer to why I love it is the poem itself. Never ever answer the question, Why do you love me? That question is always a trap.

    [Beside the white is fun because it makes me think of enjambment. The syllable counting is fun because it almost fits but never quite what I expect. So much depends is fun because it establishes high stakes. All of the time spent analyzing this poem is fun to me, and all of it is a contemplation of the nature and importance of poetry itself. When in doubt, I have been told, a poem is about poetry. Even Shall I compare thee to a summer's day... is about a poem. I think that. And other stuff like that. I don't know why this poem has special meaning, but I know that it does. I know that because I feel it.]

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