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Nuler (noo. LEHR) poetry: A dramatic form of contemporary poetry involving a reversal of traditional structure wherein a rhymed or unrhymed title is an integral component of the overall poetic piece and the title of the poem contains the greatest quantity of content; strictly comprised of no more than one lengthy sentence, which is starkly contrasted by the subsequent poem which is composed of roughly eight words or less. The extreme length of the title characterizes the form and the movement of the Nuler poem along with its linked-linear nature, which forces its overt length and weight upon the substantially shorter, ostensibly lighter poem beneath it. The poem component of the Nuler, however, with brevity, density and substantiality resists disintegration or diminution through succinct core content and striking contrast to its formidable title with which the poem simultaneously and often ironically compliments by sagacious ignition of language and exposure of what lies beneath the surface value of words.
The word "nuler" means to collapse in Hodaoa-Anibo
the African American language created by Kobina Wright.
nuler poetry
She Stealthily Stalks Him While Hiding Behind The Tall Grasses Of Pretentiousness And Waits For The Perfect Opportunity To Sink Her Flesh Ripping Teeth Into Him Like A Cheetah, Without Ever Realizing What She Has Become
Recklessly
Obsessed
by Kobina Wright
nuler poetry
For the Girl Whose Considered Homicide When Suicide Didn’t Kill Enough of the Sticky, Dripping Stuff That Caused Her to Want to Die in the First Damn Place From Way Too Much Knowing That It’s Not Her Own Light She Needed to Erase But the Lifelong Scar of Wickedness Upon Her Sacred Space & Upon Mother Earth's Shame-d Face
DEATH
To all pedophiles!
∞
by Lisa Bartley-Lacey
From A Crime and a Simplification of Something Sublime
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An event that takes place during school hours in which fat black women tell you how they don't want to be treated as objects, people tell their girlfriends how lustful they are, minorities telling you how they don't want to be judged, and politics by the boatload. All of these things will eventually consume not only your class time, but they will also eat into your lunch time, to the point where you have just enough time to buy food from the vending machine, and eat it on the way to your next class.
Person 1: dude, the Poetry Slam is tomorrow.
Person 2: well I better pack a lunch and some earplugs.
or
Man, that guest speaker is taking so long, its practically a Poetry Slam
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A revolution started by the beat poets that mainly dealt with issues such as censorship. Accordingly, many beat poems are vulgar or obscene in nature, not only to foil censorship laws, but to be free, kickass poetry. The beats are typically considered pre hippies. The revolution started with what was called the Sixth Gallery poetry reading. At this reading on the west coast, a bottle of wine was passed around, and Jack Kerouac read his soon to be famous poem "Howl". The audience felt so emotional that they began shouting, a tradition that continues when the poem is read today.
I like beat poetry, especially Kerouac!
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The act of writing poetry within a set time limit on a randomly selected subject, often as a competition.
Let's have us a poetry slam tonight!
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a party in which everyone gets stoned. A weed party in other words. A reference to "poetry" and the fact that people only really do it when they are high or drunk...like most famous poets.
We totally need to have another "Poetry Club" meeting this friday...last time we got sooo baked.
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The slim shrug of the lips you make, kind of like an "all righty" in the country manner, whilst nodding your head, when you're hearing really bad poetry. As if you've got to pass gas. As if you've got a pitcher of beer in your bladder and the moron poet keeps on reading. You share this look with a friend, who is also making the bad poetry face. This poetry sucks ass. The poet sucks ass. He is a "sucker butthole."
I went to the reading and just a few minutes after it started, I was already making the bad poetry face. Ugh. That dude sucked. What was his name? It rhymes with Bony Toadland. Tony Toadland? Bony Hoagland? I can't remember, but one thing is sure, his spineless, p.c. poetry sucks ass, and you, too, will make the bad poetry face -- if you really think about it -- after he starts reading.
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