Born in a small town in Nebraska. My family moved to Somerset, Wisconsin when I was three. My parents soon divorced, living three miles apart they never spoke or saw each other again. My brother and sister were overly intellectual geniuses, as I was the overly sensitive rebel. At the age of 12 I was recruited by the local mafia. In High School I was captain of the football team, resident artist, musician and scholar. I soon learned to experiment with drugs and alcohal which led to many wild nights and lucid moments. I soon fell in with a certain Swami and learned the depths of eastern philosophy. Having scene god, found jesus, died and been reborn all by the age of eighteen. I became an artist and attended the University of Wisconsin-Madison. There I learned to meditate, appreciate art, and sculpt. Having written the great american poem by the age of nineteen, it is a burden holding this treasure waiting for the right publisher to appear. Having refused to marry for money, I tried to join numerous cults, but none would have me, saying I was incorrigible and independant. I gave up everything and moved to the national forest of Colorado. For two years I lived outside and nearly froze to death. Having realized the fraud that is the virtue of poverty, I soon realized only people with money are happy. I was then rescued by the love of my life, not to mention I am currently working on the great american novel. I am presently on hiatus in Monterey, California. I love sunsets, long walks on the beach, and dolphins. All of this is true....I swear!

My passion is ...

breathing

I know too much about ...

nothing

My parents always told me ...

hurry up we're about to leave

My childhood ambition ...

to be happy

My favorite memory ...

staring at the midnight sky in montana when I was 18

Why I write ...

because it's always there

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

everything

My first job ...

working for the local mafia in my small town

My best moment ...

seeing god

My inspiration ...

beauty

Arts & Humanities > Poets & Poetry Can 'bad' poetry have value?

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Figure out the value of any poetry and you have no doubt that even the 'worst' poetry has value absolutely.

Assuming value in this case refers to a positive effect. Yes, in this case the poem's value is a reality even if only obvious to the author or one random reader.

It is the choice of the audience that accentuates and sometimes projects a value.

It is obvious still, that what has historically been regarded as 'great' poetry is a bit esoteric and hard to relate with for the majority of people. These people question the value of 'great' poetry as being completely irrelevant ...

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