Personal blog of poet Amber Decker. Decker had her first collection of poems published at age 19 and her second at age 26. In years between and since, her poems have been published internationally in numerous print and online venues. Find out more about the poet, her life and her work here.
Through the Retinahttp://thrutheretina.blogspot.com
Attempting to reaffirm the status of poetry as being invaluable to human existence. Poetry is not, and should not be thought of as a few comforting words which leave the reader in a cozy state of complacency. Poetry is something to wrestle with, to craft, to make infinite revisions upon, to strive for, to express uncertainties. Most of all, it is something that we must use to take the language with which we are infinitely and intimately familiar, and create something novel. In other words, we must battle against our quotidian language, in order to arrive at some kind of transcendence, and ultimately to glimpse aesthetic beauty, fleeting as it may be.
Our Cities Vanishhttp://citiesvanish.blogspot.com
It is a world built through conversations with the dead, with the voices of the literary past, allusions to the things that have come before and constructed with a clear, conscious sense that poetry is a Craft. These poems understand the value of things like aesthetics, culture and meaning. Ray Hinman understands the poet as the modern descendant of the Shaman, treading the boundary between what is forbidden and what is allowed to guide us beyond the things that distract us and drown the spirit to the transcendent and the sublime.
Poets are dyinghttp://www.poetrylibrary.co/poem-poets-are-dying-by-shainur-ullah
Poets are dying, Not like a Dan Brown or a JK Rowling book, Rhyming is for children, And there are no more children left, No money, nor any recognition, Poetry has no stance and is losing respect, Emotions is for the weak man, apparently, But we are not human without emotions, So poets must be human beings, Once used to bravely speak, To spill out your guts to your loved one, Facebook is now for that, Name a poet, not a poem – but a poet, I assure you, you will struggle with that, Poetry is dying or even already dead, Who is the Jesus in poetry, To resurrect or heal if that is possible, There are museums full of poetry, More like a graveyard, for the dead poets.
dina sins before she saves ?http://dinasaurousrexxx.tumblr.com
My name is Dina, and this is a blog that shares my personal poetry, and photos. An English professor once told me that a poem is not "good" until you have taken your guts out from under your skin, and thrown them onto a table for display. My style of writing is always honest, and reveals the thoughts most of us try to ignore, or forget about. I believe that vulnerability is never a state that should be avoided, and that overexposure could lead to liberation. I don't want to be accepted, I want to reach out