Idea vs Image (Round one)

March 5, 2008 at 5:52 pm | Posted in antihaiku, writing | 16 Comments
Tags: ,

Ding! (seconds out) Do you think golfers would make good landscape painters, they’ve got the fine motor control. Not only will there be no more poetry in my blog, mainly because I

am too lazy to in

sert linebreaks, I will also not be reading anymore Poems, writing whose main quality is asserting their Poemhood. poetry i read everywhere, the objectivity of the journalist is a fiction they hide behind. Insert link to a fucking big cannon blowing the remains of Hunter S. into the vastness of the American night.

Do you think great golfers would make great landscape painters, that moment just before his backswing when all there is the movement of air over undulate terrain,


RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

  1. And check this one out from Scot, posted on the same day, synchronicitous thinking, woohoo,

  2. One has to be careful that poetry doesnt get in the way of life…….otherwise its a meaningless display.
    And what is poetry? the still quitness of the morning dew, the sun rising from the ocean, the sigh of your man, all these are felt not written.

    Writing can only ever be second to the experiance……or thats my take.
    Paul, you are apreciated.

  3. and the reader stops breathing with that held swing….brilliant.

  4. nawwww – they would all do boring sofa paintings… you know – those paintings done all pretty to match the sofa? Gag.

  5. So, no more reading my poems??

    I think most golfers would make good haiku writers right before they stepped in front of the cannon or right after they took a ride with Hunter.

  6. I think the golfers should be fired from the cannon. golf courses are the greatest waste of land there is, they basterdize nature, they pollute, and they are covered with assholes.
    and scot is correct in at least one thing, they would write haiku, for as much as golf missuses the land, so has haiku been missused.
    but hey, who am i to judge…

  7. a beautiful poem, uncle.


  8. enigma, writing can only be second to the experience, exactly right, and thankyou,
    thanks Jo,
    lakota, i was thinking of that innate understanding they must develop of terrain and the movement of air across it, just like a landscape painter,
    scot, i will be reading your poems, they have a lot more going, ideas, emotions, they do more than merely assert their Poemhood.
    ozzy, we would certainly agree on both golfcourses and haiku

  9. hm

    “Do you think great golfers would make great landscape painters, that moment just before his backswing when all there is the movement of air over undulate terrain,”

    You suck at not writing poetry.

  10. haha, that is a lovely grin, thanks Amuirin,

  11. PS , I just realised that comment sounded a bit harsh…it wasnt meant to be, your poety is lovely and meaningful.

  12. I didn’t think it was harsh, it is soft and wonderful,

  13. once saw t. woods
    slice hunter s.’s
    words from Fear and
    Loathing in Las Vegas
    onto a canvas on the
    eighteenth green of
    augusta and turn them
    into cubism…

    …which is some feat
    if you happen to be
    using a little round white ball…

    this rocked…

  14. So does that, your poem reminded me of hunters fascination with things sporting which was an accident of thought, that is a wicked poem you made,

  15. Golfers might make landscape painters
    The odd dressed rich old farts
    But scenes the relics put on canvas
    might not pass for art.
    But poets are the songs of souls
    from hearts both old and young
    You know that I could paint you snowflakes
    melting on your tongue
    The water and the sandtraps beckon
    thats where you lost your balls
    So it is up to the poets I reckon
    to stand up for the cause
    Paint nature in her splendor
    as you would have me know it
    But I will give you words too tender
    from any but the poet
    Golfers might paint rolling green
    pock-marked with little holes
    Or a nine iron hanging from a tree
    Like Salvador Dali’s soul
    But dreams leave to the poets
    as the stuff of other worlds
    For what we reap we first have sown
    Like Degas’ ballerina girls
    The beauty in the metaphor
    Is the recipe of dreams
    So well I’ve argued, against and for
    why golfers might paint landscape scenes

  16. I think maybe poetry sticks with people, and if it wants you to write it it will probably find you. I don’t know, there’s not really such things as “poets”; just people who write poetry. Thing is, life creates poetry and you might write poetry without realising it – life’s…i guess…inevitable poetry. so good luck with not being a poet haha
    Yeah, you were right as usual Peter. Nonpoeting didn’t last long at all. I came back to say a couple of months later. The truth is, as you know, most of the time I have no idea what I’m doing, but it’s fun,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at
Entries and comments feeds.

%d bloggers like this: