Should poets be put on a national register?

@someone_else Said

Oh...okay. So you want the 'good' poets to be put on a national register. But there's still that treasure/trash problem.

@aquine Said

We can solve that by opening an academy of proven poets.

It can be a place where about 5000 poets live and anyone who wants to have their name put on the register simply places their first poem through a sliding tray in the front door. The poem gets passed around and if at least one of the 5000 says the poem is acceptable then the prospective poet gets their name put on the list.

@shinobinoz Said

Do I detect a double dog dare to aquine to post an original poem?

@Rehabilitation_Please Said

Sure why not, I have posted a poem

@shinobinoz Said

I say we register churches! And I get to be the "great decider"!

@aquine Said

Most churches are register for one thing or another.

Some are registered as corporations, some as charitable organisations, but I do believe that the vast majority are indeed registered.

@shinobinoz Said

They have not passed my judgement yet they have not!

@aquine Said

That's because you have no power to enforce whatever judgement you have.

@aquine Said

You missed the word 'able'.

It could be a register of only poets with the ability to write verse that is not cringe worthy.

If a person's name is not on that register then you won't waste time reading their words.

@boxerdc Said

Me thinks that the ack-man does not realize that, like music, there is more than one kind of poetry..

I would expect that only "classical" poets would be allowed on his registry and there would be no rappers..

@boxerdc Said

Me thinks that the ack-man does not realize that, like music, there is more than one kind of poetry..

I would expect that only "classical" poets would be allowed on his registry and there would be no rappers..

@shinobinoz Said

You mean only the really really dry and boring poetry???

@boxerdc Said

Me thinks that the ack-man does not realize that, like music, there is more than one kind of poetry..

I would expect that only "classical" poets would be allowed on his registry and there would be no rappers..

@shinobinoz Said

You mean only the really really dry and boring poetry???

@aquine Said

It's interesting how there is no accounting for taste!

Kubla Khan
By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

In Xanadu did Kublai Khan
A stately Pleasure-Dome decree,
Where Alph, the sacred river ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers was girdled ’round,
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But, oh! That deep, romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill, athwart a cedarn cover:
A savage place! As holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath the waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her Demon Lover!
And from this chasm with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this Earth in fast, thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced,
Amid whose swift, half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail;
And ‘midst these dancing rocks at once and ever,
It flung up momently the sacred river!
Five miles meandering with ever a mazy motion,
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean.
And ‘mid this tumult, Kublai heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the Dome of Pleasure
Floated midway on the waves,
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device:
A sunny Pleasure-Dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such deep delight ‘twould win me
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome within the air!
That sunny dome, those caves of ice,
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry: “Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle ’round him thrice,
And close your eyes in holy dread:
For he on honeydew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise!”

@aquine Said

It's interesting how there is no accounting for taste!

Kubla Khan
By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

In Xanadu did Kublai Khan
A stately Pleasure-Dome decree,
Where Alph, the sacred river ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers was girdled ’round,
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But, oh! That deep, romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill, athwart a cedarn cover:
A savage place! As holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath the waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her Demon Lover!
And from this chasm with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this Earth in fast, thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced,
Amid whose swift, half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail;
And ‘midst these dancing rocks at once and ever,
It flung up momently the sacred river!
Five miles meandering with ever a mazy motion,
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean.
And ‘mid this tumult, Kublai heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the Dome of Pleasure
Floated midway on the waves,
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device:
A sunny Pleasure-Dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such deep delight ‘twould win me
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome within the air!
That sunny dome, those caves of ice,
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry: “Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle ’round him thrice,
And close your eyes in holy dread:
For he on honeydew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise!”

@boxerdc Said

Yup..
Why does it not surprise me that for the ack-man poetry needs to rhyme?