Showing posts with label Twitter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Twitter. Show all posts

Thursday, 26 November 2015

@khursheb broke Twitter

People may claim to break the internet.




However p&g editor Bridget Khursheed managed to break Twitter by copying c85000 characters of code into one tweet. We look forward to further stress tests and hopefully a graph on this later...

Graphic a reconstruction - although to be honest, we managed to break Twitter again whoops...


Friday, 20 June 2014

Your book reviewed

Issue 8 of poetandgeek.com is imminent (at last - normally May Day and this one hasn't emerged until the solstice). The sharp-eyed will notice a new reviews feature. p&g would welcome ideas of what to review.

Talk to us on Twitter, email or post; send a review copy or pointing us to a particular writer's work.



You can find details of how to get in touch or send your suggested work - among with a number of other ways to contribute - here http://poetandgeek.blogspot.co.uk/p/are-you-poet-and-geek.html.

Thursday, 24 February 2011

Donne tweet poetry

 poetandgeek.com 
I am two fools I know For loving and for saying so In whining poetry But where's that wise man that would not be I If she would not deny

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Gerard Manley Hopkins tweet poetry

 poetandgeek.com 
I caught this morning morning's minion kingdom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon in his riding Of the rolling level underneath


More on the full poem The Windhover at http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2010/apr/01/windhover-gerard-manley-hopkins

Thursday, 3 February 2011

Ginsberg twitter howl

 poetandgeek.com 
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

Tuesday, 1 February 2011

Three rules of tweet poetry

The first immutable rule is there must be 140 characters or less and this of course implies that you must be working digitally; type or hand write a draft by all means but it is the ruthless counter at Twitter that will ultimately OK what you put down. This might encourage a syllabic approach where tweet poety has a fixed number of syllables no matter the stresses in the line, Marianne Moore might be used as a model



 poetandgeek.com 

One must make a distinction however: when dragged into prominence by half poets, the result is not poetry


Second rule is that there can be no returns or paragraphs, and no line breaks other than those shown by the space character or (if you must) the forward slash; this is where the haiku/tweet poetry analogy breaks down for me. A haiku in Japanese would be written in a single vertical line; the English version is usually divided into three phrases (often lines) so perhaps tweet poetry is truer to the original Japanes presentation. But the display area in Twitter being what it is, you will see line breaks where the text wraps; and this acts as an uncontrolled counterpoint to the haiku.



 poetandgeek.com 

the first cold shower even the monkey seems to want a little coat of straw



Third rule is that tweet poetry is of the moment; or gnomic. I think this gives us much more useful avenues to explore with their roots in Nordic/Old English riddles. The approach is much less strict in its form but usefully has a strong stress pattern, poetic technique including balance, alliteration, metaphor, and better still, the caesura or break in the line is part of its phrasal expression. So counting the space character as an unstressed syllable is part of this oral tradition of poetry. Academics have suggested that riddle writers had their own grammars, distinct from that governing regular speech which frees contemporary writers to formalise poetry under the twitter restrictions.



 poetandgeek.com 

He hates silence I am quiet We are together A lord made me faster sometimes stronger but he lasts longer I rest he runs on Without him I die

Of course, there may be no rules at all in which case I am joining the Dylan Thomas, Chus Pato, Walt Whitman school of tweet poet...


 poetandgeek.com 

pursued by all hidden wrens in town who scold me from the skeletons of bushes at the corner of each road the dead leaves scuff, I walk home