I've seen it mentioned a few places around the boards, and seen fine examples here and in books, heard in songs, etc that someone with poetic sensibilities can turn a powerful phrase in prose and songwriting and most likely even filmmaking. So I guess my question is, do you think your poetic aspirations trigger in your other writing and improve it?
Sometimes words stick to you and you realize it is quite possibly the perfect phrase for that poem, novel, song, film. You wonder why you hadn't ever thought of it, and its beauty captures your imagination.
Some examples:
A Long December by Counting Crows:
And the feeling that its all a lot of oysters, but no pearls
All at once you look across a crowded room
To see the way that light attaches to a girl
Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable Feast
I've seen you, beauty, and you belong to me now, whoever you are waiting for and if I never see you again, I thought. You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil.
American Beauty: (film)
It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in.
Is poetry for prose writers like ballet for football players? (I believe p.h. said that to Spooky on the crit of his posted poems).
Sometimes words stick to you and you realize it is quite possibly the perfect phrase for that poem, novel, song, film. You wonder why you hadn't ever thought of it, and its beauty captures your imagination.
Some examples:
A Long December by Counting Crows:
And the feeling that its all a lot of oysters, but no pearls
All at once you look across a crowded room
To see the way that light attaches to a girl
Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable Feast
I've seen you, beauty, and you belong to me now, whoever you are waiting for and if I never see you again, I thought. You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil.
American Beauty: (film)
It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in.
Is poetry for prose writers like ballet for football players? (I believe p.h. said that to Spooky on the crit of his posted poems).
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