Is Eminem A Poet

[cow_dung]

i would say so

[Kitty]

Emily Dickinson was considered controversial in her time, yet we now see her as one of America's greatest poets.
Not saying that you can compare eminem to Emily, But what might be considered one mans art could be anothers trash.

Remember back in the day when Rock n' Roll first showed it's face in town, It shur did get a lot of peoples panties in bunches but some people saw it as a legitimate form of music and art so it rolled on, and now has become the foundation for a lot of other music showing it's face today.

I'm not a big fan of Eminem, I have listened to his music and read the lyrics and in my opinion it does seem like a form of poetry for the twenty first century.
There are people out there (myself included) that consider Jim Morrison a brillant poet, Others can't make sense of his ramblings so I guess it's all in the ears of the listners.

JMO

[dingoBaby]

Originally posted by Kitty@19 September 2003 - 23:32
Emily Dickinson was considered controversial in her time, yet now we see her as one of America's greatest poets.
Not saying that you can compare eminem to Emily, But what might be considered one mans art could be anothers trash.

Remember back in the day when Rock n' Roll first showed it's face in town, It shur did get a lot of peoples panties in bunches but some people saw it as a legitimate form of music and art so it rolled on and now has become the foundation for a lot of other music showing it's face today.

I'm not a big fan of Eminem, I have listened to his music and read the lyrics and in my opinion it does seem like a form of poetry for the twenty first century.
There are people out there (myself included) that consider Jim Morrison a brillant poet, Others can't make sense of his ramblings so I guess it's all in the ears of the listners.

JMO

Well said.

[MagicNakor]

Eminem isn't society's darling.

For a time Oscar Wilde was, but he later fell into disgrace. Emily Dickinson only had eight poems published during her lifetime, and without her permission. The vast majority of her work was published post-humously.

I was thinking more of George Gordon (or Lord Byron), and William Shakespeare. To a lesser extent, Salvador Dali.

[Assultsniper]

What about the song purple pills and kill you? Definetly not poetry "Bitch Im gonna kill you,you dont wanna fuck with me"

[3rd gen noob]

Originally posted by Assultsniper@20 September 2003 - 04:48
What about the song purple pills and kill you? Definetly not poetry "Bitch Im gonna kill you,you dont wanna fuck with me"

why isn't that poetry?
this topic, like so many on a board like this, is subjective, dependent on people's views...

[J'Pol]

Originally posted by dingoBaby+20 September 2003 - 04:33--></div><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td>QUOTE (dingoBaby &#064; 20 September 2003 - 04:33)</td></tr><tr><td id='QUOTE'> <!--QuoteBegin-Kitty@19 September 2003 - 23:32
Emily Dickinson was considered controversial in her time, yet now we see her as one of America&#39;s greatest poets.
Not saying that you can compare eminem to Emily, But what might be considered one mans art could be anothers trash.

Remember back in the day when Rock n&#39; Roll first showed it&#39;s face in town, It shur did get a lot of peoples panties in bunches but some people saw it as a legitimate form of music and art so it rolled on and now has become the foundation for a lot of other music showing it&#39;s face today.

I&#39;m not a big fan of Eminem, I have listened to his music and read the lyrics and in my opinion it does seem like a form of poetry for the twenty first century.
There are people out there (myself included) that consider Jim Morrison a brillant poet, Others can&#39;t make sense of his ramblings so I guess it&#39;s all in the ears of the listners.

JMO

Well said. [/b][/quote]
I second that well said.

It&#39;s not my sup of tea, but neither is :

I WANDERED lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o&#39;er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.


Why would one be considered poetry but the other not. Is it purely the subject matter. What about :



Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas&#33; GAS&#33; Quick, boys&#33;--An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound&#39;ring like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil&#39;s sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.



That produces some fairly horrific images. It was written in 1921 btw and is a classic

[chalice]

It is noble and fitting to die for one&#39;s country.
Tell it like it is, Wilfred.

[MagicNakor]

Oh, JPaul, for shame.

Where are the titles? Where are the authors?

You do a great disservice to Wordsworth and Owen.

Off to the corner with you, to think about what you&#39;ve done to those poor fellows.

[Lamsey]