Am i too autistic for the emotional/intuitive experience of poetry?

I'm the same and I'm convinced it just comes down to personality. There's a broad spectrum with hard sciences on one extreme, next to it manual labour and philosophy and logic and substance and then it goes into the other direction, starting with style and poetry and next to it are frills and kitsch and at the end of that extreme there's the esoteric and horoscopes and fuck capitalism protests.

It's not a perfect model but I found you can judge people quite well by it. And as for poetry, you need to have a certain inclination towards pretentiousness and vagueness and frills to really get amazed by it as a genre, whereas the average person will only like a couple of select poems or appreciate certain lines.
And that model can tell you fairly precisely whether someone will prefer the Ancient Mariner or Milk and Honey.

so poetry thread?

THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS

by: W.B. Yeats

WENT out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

This desu. Completely agree

Keats is dead so fuck me from behind

Slowly and with carnal purpose

Some black midwinter afternoon

While all the children are walking home from school

Peel my stockings down with your teeth

Coleridge is dead and Auden too

Of laughing in an overcoat

Shelley died at sea and his heart wouldn’t burn

& Wordsworth……………………………………………..

They never found his body

His widow mad with grief, hammering nails into an empty meadow

Byron, Whitman, our dog crushed by the garage door

Finger me slowly

In the snowscape of your childhood

Our dead floating just below the surface of the earth

Bend me over like a substitute teacher

& pump me full of shivering arrows

O emotional vulnerability

Bosnian folk-song, birds in the chimney

Tell me what you love when you think I’m not listening

Wallace Stevens’s mother is calling him in for dinner

But he’s not coming, he’s dead too, he died sixty years ago

And nobody cared at his funeral

Life is real

And the days burn off like leopard print

Nobody, not even the dead can tell me what to do

Eat my pussy from behind

Bill Manhire’s not getting any younger

Your post started off well enough then it slowly turned into you trying to intellectually absolve yourself over not understanding something that well. You don't even see it either, do you?

No I actually did see that even as I was writing it but decided to just leave it controversial instead of toning it down just to defend myself from criticism from strangers on a meme board. I thought by leaving poetry in the middle of the spectrum I'd make it nuanced enough to avoid anyone getting offended just because they do like peotry.
For example, I feel the same way about classical music and I know it's partially because I lack the talent or inclination for it and partially because I'm just not educated enough. I wouldn't look down on anyone for loving classical music just because I don't "get it". I really don't feel like poetry belongs into the same category.
Also, maybe you'll see the irony in accusing someone of smugness while acting like they just don't understand something that you do.

Part of the problem is that poetry is so little read now that we don't have the right cultural practices surrounding it. People used to read and recite it publicly all the time. We've replaced it with pop music and more recently, pictures of frogs.

Its also not really supposed to always be a transcendent sacred experience either, I hate the 'poetry reading voice' that turned up I think in the 1960s.

Someone doing it show off and annoy someone else is quite legitimate:
youtube.com/watch?v=0SMnndWDjh0

Conclusion: you need to be more playful with it. Most poets were absolute lads who loved language. Its not supposed to be a boring church service.

In addition to this, the point of poems being in the culture is that they given context by how and when people read them.

If you think of the most popularly rediscovered poems of late, Yeats (Funeral Blues) and Tennyson (Ulysses), its because they were used in films that gave them context. You're not going to get that trying marathon a book of collected verse.

>am I too autistic?
>posts frog

Yes

>No I actually did see that even as I was writing it but decided to just leave it controversial
I like to pretend that I am a retard saying retarded shit just to court controversy. It's like a game I play. A con. It makes people wonder and keeps them guessing: "What is this fella playing at?" I can picture them cry. "Just what does this wily wisenheimer think he's up to??"

>Also, maybe you'll see the irony in accusing someone of smugness
In your case it was dead accurate.

In pretty sure the other dudes post was actually spot on you sound like a pretentious swamp donkey

that's a really bad post, user

t. newfag samefag

Complete fucking nonsense.
You clearly know nothing of poetry or the hard sciences you doubtless aspire to.