We've had threads on modern art and what qualifies as "art," but never poetry.
Poetry, like any art, is hard to define, but regardless that's what this thread is about: your definition of it. Do you consider "modern" poetry poetry? An example of traditional poetry:
Oh Captain! My Captain!
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
***
An example of modern poetry:
Or, even less structured:
Things I Hate
chicken skin
the crust on pudding
country music
Dick Cheney
homework
picky people
Discuss.
Poetry, like any art, is hard to define, but regardless that's what this thread is about: your definition of it. Do you consider "modern" poetry poetry? An example of traditional poetry:
Oh Captain! My Captain!
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
***
An example of modern poetry:
Code:
Crescent Moon
The
moon
is shy.
You can
find her
peeking out
at the world
from the edge
of my fingernails.
When I cut them
the moon slips
out, no bigger
than a nail
clipping as
she hangs
up there
in the
sky.
Or, even less structured:
Things I Hate
chicken skin
the crust on pudding
country music
Dick Cheney
homework
picky people
Discuss.