Romantic Poetess

Lighting The Fire Of Love

RomanticPoetess

RomanticPoetess
Location
Minnesota, USA
Birthday
December 13
Title
Poetess, Fire Starter
Company
Mystic Creations
Bio
My intention is to write poems of love and loving while fearlessly pursuing my hearts desire. My email address is: romanticpoetess.com@gmail.com

MY RECENT POSTS

NOVEMBER 21, 2011 12:29PM

Clubbing Poets

Rate: 20 Flag

 robert-hass

 

Celebrated as a poet with clarity of expression

Finding words from everyday life

“Poetry”, he said, “Is a way of living…..

A human activity, like baking bread or playing basketball.”

His imagery drawn from the California countryside

“Uncorked wine, green whelks, rock crabs, sea spray and pepper trees”

His love of haiku and translations of Japan’s best

His poems of childhood and an alcoholic mother

His work so loved he is named U.S. Poet Laureate

He begins to see the poetry in world affairs and politics

He speaks out to business asking for more understanding

And more poetry awards

Encourages young poets to tell their stories 

A teacher now 70 years of age

With is poet wife in her 60’s

They arrive to witness the behavior of students on his campus

And the behavior of campus police seeking to dismantle

“Occupy California”

He heard that students in their tents were “beaten viciously”

“In broad daylight”

“Without provocation”

They know that police are human too and try to reason with them

Without warning

His wife shoved to the ground by bully police

He cries out to help and he is clubbed

Truncheons swinging at heads and ribs and bellies

The crowd so dense it cannot retreat

The headline reads

Former Poet Laureate Robert Hass Clubbed By Police At UC Berkeley

The tents are back the next night

The English department ready with a new sign

“Beat Poets, not beat poets”

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So sad. Thank you for sharing this.
I enjoyed reading thisvery much. I enjoy all your work. Very nice.
I read all about this. While I do agree with a lot of Occupy stuff the violence is wrong wrong wrong..
Good words.
HUGGGGGGGG
Oh no. So very sorry to read this. Thanks for sharing this.
ha, finally a hippie Establishment poet
gets some action. old poet
oughta make poetry out
of that. I f he be
a Poet,
ha. May be he is grayhair FuzzyWuzzy.
The Man,
the Boss.
i might club that fatuous face, says Georgie the puppy to me.
yah, i say, but bad georgie.
Corporate America's hired thugs are making our job of getting the word out easier and easier by the day. Thanks, Mary.
i gonna soon maybe club that frantic chicken
if he doesnt transmorgify into at least
a simulacrum of a simian-raised spirit.
behind it.
you too or
tis just me?

the chickens squawk, the hens are in the attic,
the eagle is on the top of the ark
right above that attic.

animals are ok to eat because why else would
they taste so yummy? yummmmmmmmm.flesh,
yah man i a monkey
i a predator
i aint no nut chewer baby
nor gatherer of insects, cept yeah, i eat bugs.

god had mercy on me long ago.
when i was just a proto man.
my sins were just animal instincts uncontrollable
or
seemingly
so.

the church protected us. then jesus got a fuckin life.
he is 30 now. and rollin along, incognito.
he was seen right here
yesterday,
but that now is now not now, if ya get my Hegel.
The goal to be reached is the mind’s insight
into what knowing is.
Impatience asks for the impossible,

wants to reach the goal without the means of getting there.

The length of the journey has to be borne with,
for every moment is necessary;
and again we must halt

at every stage,
for each is itself
a complete individual form,

and is fully and finally considered only so far as its determinate character is taken and dealt with
as a rounded and concrete whole,
or only so far as the whole is looked at in the light of the special

and peculiar character which this determination gives it. hegel. ha sorry. o so bored & wanting thanksgiving to get here soon.
More and more escalation.Something is getting out of control.
It's on knife's edge.
One match will start the conflagration.
Mary,thank you for your gentle words.
Rated
I suggested to our mutual friend art james
that if he aint gonna write he ought to
show up in L.A. and get clubbed as
Total Poet of the Turtles. Toads, i mean.
i want to know, RP, if you seen my little black snuff case?
i left some legal snuff in there.
good stuff. if ya find it i would be obliged.

remember your Hegel:
"Poetry is the universal art of the spirit
which has become free in itself
and which is not tied down
for its realization to external sensuous material;
instead, it launches out
exclusively in the inner space
and the inner time


of ideas and feelings.
Introduction to Aesthetics (1842), tr
And the thing is, any friend of pepper trees is a friend of mine.
definitely a tough way to get noticed
You've captured this so well. What an unbelievable event.
beat poets? ya really want THAT?
they are often bearded and very unkempt.
when i am out in public,
i am kempt.
my dad taught me that.
ginsberg was a hell of a guy.
the cosmic man's Whitman.
Whitman IS america,
and yet we forget that
whitman lived at the same time
as Lincoln and
the dreary Emerson.
and Blake, over there in England.
the guys, byron, keats and shelly delighted us
with their adventures to early death,
leaving good lookin corpse.
james dean did it later.
elvis, argh.
on the toilet. fat.

dylan still growling.
mick and the boys? dunno.

at the end of the dinosaur era of rock and roll, who made it?
dylan.
rolling stones.
that is it.



"you used to be so
amused
by Napoleon in rags
& the Language
that he used.
go to him now.
when ya aint you are invisible now & have no secrets to conceal"
let us hope and pray to the God of the perfect Light.got nothin
u got nothin to lose.
beat poets? ya really want THAT?
they are often bearded and very unkempt.
when i am out in public,
i am kempt.
my dad taught me that.
ginsberg was a hell of a guy.
the cosmic man's Whitman.
Whitman IS america,
and yet we forget that
whitman lived at the same time
as Lincoln and
the dreary Emerson.
and Blake, over there in England.
the guys, byron, keats and shelly delighted us
with their adventures to early death,
leaving good lookin corpse.
james dean did it later.
elvis, argh.
on the toilet. fat.

dylan still growling.
mick and the boys? dunno.

at the end of the dinosaur era of rock and roll, who made it?
dylan.
rolling stones.
that is it.



"you used to be so
amused
by Napoleon in rags
& the Language
that he used.
go to him now.
when ya aint you are invisible now & have no secrets to conceal"
let us hope and pray to the God of the perfect Light.got nothin
u got nothin to lose.
I read about this "event" only this morning here in Paris.
Your tribute to Hass and poetic description of what happened are necessary. We all need to be reminded that the One Percent are not playing fair. Not now, not ever.
Brilliant post about a tragic event. If only poets ran the world, maybe things wouldn't be so crazy.
This is outrageous and shameful.
Its just plain wrong!
~R~
Jim Morrison he ain’t!
Let me just clarify something: when a cop go’s upside your wife's head, for no good reason, with a club the proper response is you tackle him. If you can bite his ear off do so and spit it at him. Will you be shot? Most likely but sometimes it just be’s that way!
Great writing:

this belongs in the Book of Dissent and Peaceful Resistance.

note: if we don’t quit, we will win.

- in solidarity with OWS.
This just blew me away. People read the stories, and think, in the back of their minds, surely, it's being exaggerated, it can't be all that bad. Bullshit! It is and I thank you for writing this, even though I am so pissed off they did this to them. They fail to realize, that the harder they get, the harder we get. The powerful will never learn this simple lesson, never!
This is such a living work .... will be for some time -- but let us hope not too long. Good capture, RP. People are just nodding themselves awake now: the hours press, conspire with doubt and that yearning for what must be.
In spring, I would want to be in NY. Yeah, in the shadows of what the Goncourt Brothers, in France, would do over a century back.
Embed themselves in the swirling activities and report on what must be not only witnessed -- but felt.
The best goes on, I guess ...
This is such a living work .... will be for some time -- but let us hope not too long. Good capture, RP. People are just nodding themselves awake now: the hours press, conspire with doubt and that yearning for what must be.
In spring, I would want to be in NY. Yeah, in the shadows of what the Goncourt Brothers, in France, would do over a century back.
Embed themselves in the swirling activities and report on what must be not only witnessed -- but felt.
The best goes on, I guess ...
This is such a living work .... will be for some time -- but let us hope not too long. Good capture, RP. People are just nodding themselves awake now: the hours press, conspire with doubt and that yearning for what must be.
In spring, I would want to be in NY. Yeah, in the shadows of what the Goncourt Brothers, in France, would do over a century back.
Embed themselves in the swirling activities and report on what must be not only witnessed -- but felt.
The best goes on, I guess ...
This is such a living work .... will be for some time -- but let us hope not too long. Good capture, RP. People are just nodding themselves awake now: the hours press, conspire with doubt and that yearning for what must be.
In spring, I would want to be in NY. Yeah, in the shadows of what the Goncourt Brothers, in France, would do over a century back.
Embed themselves in the swirling activities and report on what must be not only witnessed -- but felt.
The best goes on, I guess ...
This is such a living work .... will be for some time -- but let us hope not too long. Good capture, RP. People are just nodding themselves awake now: the hours press, conspire with doubt and that yearning for what must be.
In spring, I would want to be in NY. Yeah, in the shadows of what the Goncourt Brothers, in France, would do over a century back.
Embed themselves in the swirling activities and report on what must be not only witnessed -- but felt.
The best goes on, I guess ...