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The Spearhead on Lady Lit, Part 2: Poetry Slam!

Samuel Taylor Coleridge, dude poet extraordinaire

The fellows at The Spearhead are still talking about lady literature — by which I mean, why ladies totally can’t write for shit. This time, they’re taking on the lady poets.

Contrasting a poem by former US poet laureate Kay Ryan with Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s Kubla Khan, The Spearhead’s W.F. Price proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that men are the best poets. And then Price takes it one step further, contrasting a video of Kay Ryan’s reading of another of her poems with Dylan Thomas’ passionate (if slightly overripe) reading of his “Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night.”

While I can’t take issue with Price’s methodology here – comparing a couple of random poems by a female poet most people have never heard of (but who apparently represents all female poets ever)  with legendary poems by two of the world’s most famous poets – I wonder about his choice of male poets here.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge? Dylan Thomas? Sure, they wrote some awesome dude poems, for their time. But they’re long dead, Daddy-O, and we men of today demand poetry that speaks to our lives. Who better speaks to men today than the tag-team of Shaggy 2 Dope and Violent J from the Insane Clown Posse? And which of their poems speaks to men today better than their most famous work, “Miracles?”

Here are some selections from this fine piece of work — and because, by Price’s rules, any poem by a person of a particular gender obviously represents all poetry from people of that gender, this wonderful little poem represents all male poetry. (Not to mention all poetry written by insane clowns.)

We don’t have to be high to look in the sky

And know that’s a miracle opened wide

Look at the mountains, trees, the seven seas

And everything chilling underwater, please …

Pure magic is the birth of my kids

I’ve seen shit that’ll shock your eyelids

The sun and the moon, and even Mars

The Milky Way and fucking shooting stars

UFOs, a river flows

Plant a little seed and nature grows

Niagara falls and the pyramids

Everything you believed in as kids

Fucking rainbows after it rains

There’s enough miracles here to blow your brains

I fed a fish to a pelican at Frisco bay

It tried to eat my cell phone, he ran away

And then, in this poem’s most famous lines, Shaggy 2 Dope (or perhaps Violent J, I can’t remember which is which), takes on the miracle of magnetism:

I see miracles all around me

Stop and look around, it’s all astounding

Water, fire, air and dirt

Fucking magnets, how do they work?

And I don’t wanna talk to a scientist

Y’all motherfuckers lying, and getting me pissed

But as wonderfully as these lines read on the printed page, it is Insane Clown Posse’s performance of this poem (which they have set to music) that really brings home how motherfuckingly miraculous these two poets, and by extension all men who have ever written poetry, really are. So here is that performance:

As yet another great male poet, MC Hammer, once put it: “You can’t touch this!”

But, just to be fair, here’s some chick reading her dumb poem:

Picture of Samuel Taylor Coleridge by Jason Towers, from here.

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kirbywarp
kirbywarp
13 years ago

David, you fool! You have no idea what tides of evil you’ve now unleashed! All of manboobz is doomed..

Alex
13 years ago

@Zombie,

That brought tears to my eyes, and I was imagining music with it.

PosterformerlyknownasElizabeth

I have to say, Shaenon and CB, that was a most spectacular bitch slapping of Monsieur NWOaf ever.

If I had any affinity for poetry I would cleverly declaim something in admiration but alas, all wit I may have shows itself in prose.

zombie rotten mcdonald
13 years ago

It is no disrespect to the men who fought and died in wars to deplore those wars.

Furthermore, it IS disrespectful of men, and humanity in general, to insist that men’s most noble pursuit is war and destruction.

DeeDee
DeeDee
13 years ago

‘Miracles’/is abominable/still scans better than/W. McGonagall/Burma Shave.

Nobby
13 years ago

Not original to him, unfortunately. It’s a song. Here’s a good version:

Your poem, though: original? Because that was quite amazing, as well.

Nobby
13 years ago

WAoh, fail! Didn’t see the new page 🙁 David, hide my shame?

zombie rotten mcdonald
13 years ago

No, Nobby, we are all about owning our shame here.

Also, kirby, you can like me a little bit for posting it, even if I didn’t write it. After all, I had to GO LOOK FOR they lyrics, and LO I AM WEARY from my labors….

Nobby
13 years ago

@Zombie Yeah, I know. But sadness. Ah, well. At least it’s a different version from David’s. Can never have too much of that song.

And you sell yourself short. You did know of the song, and that it was such a good one to look for.

zombie rotten mcdonald
13 years ago

Dammit, I love that song. And Shane’s version always brings tears to my eyes, too.

“What are they marching for?” indeed…..

zombie rotten mcdonald
13 years ago

zombie: all you have to do is post the link, and WP posts it as an inline video.

HAH! I HAVE UNLOCKED THE SECRETS TO THE UNIVERSE, AND WILL OPEN THE PORTALS TO THE OLD ONES!!

kirbywarp
kirbywarp
13 years ago

@zombi:

Okay okay.. I can like you a LITTLE bit for nearly bringing tears to my eyes with a heart-wrenchingly beutiful poem. So… hear goes:

Roses are red, Violets are blue.
Zombies are green, and they will eat you.

thefemalespectator
13 years ago

The Disappointment, Redux; or, Sir Vidia in Hell
Naked I lay, clasp’d in his longing arms
In flames was I and he all over charms.
Beside us lay a book of poetry
My hand wandered to see what it could try:
Fingering leaves, it found a poem by Behn
But he insisted we read only those by men.
Wait, says I, there’s no need to be coy,
We can read a while before we toy.
For the mind’s an erogenous zone,
A kind of magic—there can’t be only one.
It might give us ideas
Let’s see where it will lead us.
But he, miffed, asked me how I dared,
To bring this girl stuff into bed
For MRAs had drilled into his head
That every manly poem and sperm is sacred,
That every man was master of a house
And every woman should be a quiet mouse.
(And if any MRA wants to point out that Behn’s “The Disappointment” is a pale imitation of Rochester’s “Imperfect Enjoyment” I suggest they read Ovid. Because male poets imitate each other, too. No one creates something out of nothing—even productions of poetic genius build on what has come before. Boo yah!)

kirbywarp
kirbywarp
13 years ago

Hmm. I suppose I can try a little harder… This one’s for you, zombie! <3

Hello sir, good evening, how do you do?
Nice weather we’re having, the sky’s mostly blue!
Sir, I have a quandary, p’raps you’ll give me advice?
I’m feeling quite peckish, and you’re looking quite nice!
A small bit of brain, or an ear or a toe
Is a reasonable request, if I may say so.

No need to be rude, sir, and please do not stare.
I’m not asking much, sir, and to be quite fair,
Its not like I’m wanting a leg and an arm,
though if you could spare it, it’ll do me no harm.
Well, really, such language a sailor won’t utter.
Do you talk that way ’round your father and mother?

Sir, all that I’m asking is help from a friend.
A finger you won’t miss, you’ve got at least ten.
Why do you run, sir, I’m getting fed up.
You’re moving so quickly, its hard to keep up!
If you won’t oblige, I’ll just take a small bite.
Sir, thanks for your kindness. Goodbye and good night!

Captain Bathrobe
13 years ago

I have to say, Shaenon and CB, that was a most spectacular bitch slapping of Monsieur NWOaf ever.

If I had any affinity for poetry I would cleverly declaim something in admiration but alas, all wit I may have shows itself in prose.

I’d thank you, Elizabeth, but I imagine you are referring to Kirbywarp’s fine poem, not my tawdry little limerick. 🙂

Shaenon
13 years ago

Today they’re ridiculed by the decendents they bore, their sacrifices are mocked, they are revered no more.

I have to agree, the men in the past really were impressive if they bore children. How come you guys don’t do that no more?

Pecunium
13 years ago

NWO: I can tell you were never in the Army.

But… I have to give you some credit, a more brilliant exemplar of the poetaster I have rarely seen.

Your grasp of meter, scansion, metaphor; your use of rhyme and language are unparalleled.

Pecunium
13 years ago

And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda was written by Eric Bogle.

Here’s a song by Great Big Sea about, “The Blue Puttees” of Newfoundland, which wasn’t a part of Canada a the time. For those who’d like to know a bit more about being “in the line” I commend, “Generals Die In Bed” for the Canadian experience of The Great War.

Pecunium
13 years ago

Crap… the embed code failed.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=knxR-Q2VoBE?rel=0&w=480&h=390%5D

If this one didn’t work: The Recruiting Sergeant

Pecunium
13 years ago

test

Pecunium
13 years ago

Sheeit. (hangs head in shame).

Anyone want to know what being the combat zone is like?

(See if this works)

kirbywarp
kirbywarp
13 years ago

But… that last one worked!

Pecunium
13 years ago

kirbywarp… no, it didn’t. I was trying something else, which failed. The subsequent is in moderation… too man many links.