Dude, this is kind of not on
What happened to my Edna St. Vincent Millay???
I've been trying to get my poems together, they're all over the place. In the process I discovered one of my favorite anthologies as a child was actually from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, illustrated with photographs of the permanent collection; the funny thing is I spent two whole afternoons there and could swear to seeing 0.5% of this stuff... Also this is making me remember how much I used to hate love songs and love poetry. XD; The "gross out" stage persisted for a long time, well into adolescence in fact - it wasn't that I wasn't personally interested in boys, but any poetic mention of romantic love seemed like the worst sort of emotional diarrhoea.** I liked poems about nature, and sort of imagistic stuff. Robert Frost, Wordsworth's daffodils and Li Bai's... pine trees or whatever. And wordplay. I used to cherry-pick the Romantics for non-love-related poems, that took some doing.
I'm not sure what fixed my stuntedness. XD;; At one point the pendulum swung way far in the other direction and turned into all fin-de-siècle Decadents, all the time. I do get the sense that my taste in poetry is fairly narrow. I seek particular effects and always have, though I appreciate other people's selections - that is, I'm really picky and unwilling to wade. XD;
** Ironically, the last time I can remember having this reaction was listening to "Can't Stand Me Now", sometime in '04. I just remember thinking CHRIST THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING. Lulz. I continue to grow as a person, or something.
I've been trying to get my poems together, they're all over the place. In the process I discovered one of my favorite anthologies as a child was actually from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, illustrated with photographs of the permanent collection; the funny thing is I spent two whole afternoons there and could swear to seeing 0.5% of this stuff... Also this is making me remember how much I used to hate love songs and love poetry. XD; The "gross out" stage persisted for a long time, well into adolescence in fact - it wasn't that I wasn't personally interested in boys, but any poetic mention of romantic love seemed like the worst sort of emotional diarrhoea.** I liked poems about nature, and sort of imagistic stuff. Robert Frost, Wordsworth's daffodils and Li Bai's... pine trees or whatever. And wordplay. I used to cherry-pick the Romantics for non-love-related poems, that took some doing.
I'm not sure what fixed my stuntedness. XD;; At one point the pendulum swung way far in the other direction and turned into all fin-de-siècle Decadents, all the time. I do get the sense that my taste in poetry is fairly narrow. I seek particular effects and always have, though I appreciate other people's selections - that is, I'm really picky and unwilling to wade. XD;
** Ironically, the last time I can remember having this reaction was listening to "Can't Stand Me Now", sometime in '04. I just remember thinking CHRIST THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING. Lulz. I continue to grow as a person, or something.