February 05, 2004

This Is Just to Say

Saw this poem chiselled in stone in an issue of How magazine and stumbled upon it again here.

by William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

Posted by Karen at February 5, 2004 11:49 AM in poetry

The poetics of object oriented programming:
“Object-oriented programming is a metaphor by which software components are thought of as objects. In the real world, objects are somewhat self-contained: if I’m hungry, I can eat some food, but if you’re hungry, I can’t eat for you. A chair can be sat upon, but it can’t cook dinner. Each object, that is, has a specific set of things that it can do. In object-oriented programming, we try to make our classes this way, too. If you write a “Car” class, the methods and variables in that class should be appropriate to a car. If you write another class called “Driver”, you should think about which actions (methods) are capabilities of the Driver, and which are capabilities of the Car. Thus OOP provides a specific kind of modularity in which functionality is “encapsulated” within the objects to which it conceptually belongs.”

Posted by: Karen at February 6, 2004 12:07 AM

This is probably the most workshopped poem around; everyone re-writes the plum poem. I don’t know why, though I’m sure I’d find out if I could stay awake through workshops.

Posted by: Jonathan at February 6, 2004 02:08 PM

Maybe the plum is a sexual blindspot.

I would like to write about a doughnut though.

Posted by: Karen at February 6, 2004 06:56 PM

I can see how Allen Ginsberg and him idolised each other - similar styles..

Posted by: tvpoison at February 7, 2004 03:30 PM

I’m not familiar with Ginsberg’s work. Maybe you could post one with a similar style here. That’ll be nice.

Posted by: Karen at February 7, 2004 05:37 PM

argh. couldn’t find the one he wrote for william carlos william, but here’s one that i really liked.

Autumn Leaves - Allen Ginsberg

At 66, just learning how to take care of my body
Wake cheerful 8 a.m. & write in a notebook
rising from my bed side naked leaving a naked boy asleep by the wall
mix miso mushroom leeks & winter squash breakfast,
Check bloodsugar, clean teeth exactly, brush, toothpick, floss, mouthwash
oil my feet, put on white shirt white pants white sox
sit solitary by the sink
a moment before brushing my hair, happy not yet
to be a corpse.

Posted by: tvpoison at February 8, 2004 03:36 PM

66 is probably too young to be a corpse. But then again it’s too old to be wearing all white!

Nice poem, makes you wonder what you should be doing at 30.

Posted by: Karen at February 8, 2004 11:49 PM

I was 21 when he died, but Allen’s theory was generally that men my age should be sleeping with him.

I don’t suppose that helps you much.

Posted by: Jonathan at February 12, 2004 05:42 AM

Jonathan, you’re no help!

Posted by: Karen at February 13, 2004 02:32 PM

This Poem is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO weird. I dont get it. Who really gives a crap if somebody ate the plums in the icebox???!?!? Anyway, what in the heck does this poem signify? P.S. My english teacher made me read it, I try not to do insignificant things on my own time.

Posted by: Susie at March 14, 2004 11:02 AM

Hi Susie,

I’m really sorry to hear of your teacher’s ill behavior. You’re right, there’s no need for you to be reading this poem, or anything else. Please let your teachers know that we poets would like them to focus on teaching you to cook, clean, and other things your mind is suited for (NOT caring for our children, thank you).

Posted by: Jonathan at March 16, 2004 02:47 AM

Susie, I’m afraid you’ve lost the plot.

Posted by: Karen at March 17, 2004 12:27 AM


Posted by: brisskay at April 23, 2004 01:37 AM

This is just to say that this poem can stick its finger up my butt hole. thank you.

Posted by: Kabriss at April 23, 2004 01:41 AM

Poetry blows.


Posted by: Hrant at April 23, 2004 04:53 AM

Hi, Susie’s sockpuppets. And Hrant. What’s it like to feel that sex is an insult?

Posted by: Jonathan at April 24, 2004 03:10 AM

I wouldn’t know - ‘cause I don’t think that.
What I do know -or at least feel- is that prosody is anti-content.


Posted by: Hrant at April 24, 2004 01:15 PM

Oh, my bad. So you meant “blows” as a compliment, as it should be. You blow too.

Poetry has become too broad a term to describe it as anti-anything, I reckon. “Prosody” is a more specific word. I don’t consider Wm. Carlos Williams prosody, but that’s in the eyes of the reader, I guess.

I think “anti-content” is subjective also, but in the hands of the author, not the reader. I know more than one person who finds it easier to express himself while rhyming. I don’t get it, personally, but there it is.

Posted by: Jonathan at April 24, 2004 03:11 PM

> So you meant �blows� as a compliment

Nope - sorry.

Anti-content: it’s pretty clear that having to choose words based on how they sound skews the optimal delivery of intended meaning.



Today, learn about the Armenian Genocide.

Posted by: Hrant at April 25, 2004 12:53 AM

What exactly does “blow” mean, in this context?

Posted by: Karen at April 25, 2004 02:07 PM

Well, swear words don’t necessarily have to stick to their original association. You could see it as sexual, but you could also see it as fecal (like in “blow chunks”).


Posted by: Hrant at April 25, 2004 11:27 PM


I think you mean “regurgative” rather than “fecal.” In either case, I’ve lost interest. I shan’t convince you to lose your fear of sex with typing, any more than I can convince you that poetry, prosody, and alliteration aren’t synonyms. You have condemned something you don’t understand; you don’t need my help to work it out. Best of luck.

Posted by: Jonathan at April 26, 2004 08:06 AM

well i read this poem ..ummm preety complicated…and ppl got suckssssssss …well i m a student too my teacher gave me the choice to read poems ..when i read this .. i think ….ummm and i read peoples comments. wat i think is
wahat ever the person was
he have a gf or wife at home
and tht person shold keep the plums for his break fast
but his girl cant wait until the morning …… (selfish or hungry)
so she had eaten all the plum left.
or she tried hows cold plum shold taste like
and she like the taste and she ate the whole plum
without letting him know …because she like the cold plum tht much
so she didnt bother him……..
and ate all the rest of the plum tht was so delicious and cold

Posted by: ali at May 31, 2004 04:05 AM

Nils blows not!

Posted by: Stephen Coles at October 20, 2004 05:02 PM