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Poet composed poems to go in Jamaica Plain today

GennaRose Nethercott with her typewriter on Centre Street in Jamaica Plain

This afternoon, GennaRose Nethercott sat at one of the tables near JP Licks on Centre Street with her 1952 Hermes Rocket typewriter, offering to write poems on the subject of your choosing.

Eric Mauro took her photo and shows one of her poems:

Poem called Amber by GennaRose Nethercott
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How is this poetry?

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Poems don't have to rhyme.

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so much depends

people who
didn't pay

attention in
english class

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The definition of what is or is not "poetry" has eluded us for thousands of years.

How about we compromise - yes it's poetry, it's just not very good.

I'd argue this is closer to performance art than pure poetry.



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Sound reverberates
Emptiness signifying
Words best left unsaid

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  1. It has rhyme.
  2. It has meter.
  3. It makes sense.
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Even if he was born in 1894 and died in 1962

As Is The Sea Marvelous
as is the sea marvelous
from god’s
hands which sent her forth
to sleep upon the world

and the earth withers
the moon crumbles
one by one
stars flutter into dust

but the sea
does not change
and she goes forth out of hands and
she returns into hands

and is with sleep….

the breaking

of your
my lips
Book: 100 Selected Poems by E. E. Cummings

Or Bukowski:

air and light and time and space

"–you know, I’ve either had a family, a job,
something has always been in the
but now
I’ve sold my house, I’ve found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I’m going to have
a place and the time to

no baby, if you’re going to create
you’re going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
you’re going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you’re on
you’re going to create with part of your mind and your body blown
you’re going to create blind
you’re going to create with a cat crawling up your
back while
the whole city trembles in earthquake, bombardment,
flood and fire.

baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don’t create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses

© Charles Bukowski, Black Sparrow Press

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Both are gibberish.

Bukowski is the one I really take issue with. A massive drunk scribbles on paper. He only gets promoted because of his degenerate lifestyle.

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you must be fun at parties.

Perchance you are a poet yourself? Tend to share one of your poems with the group?

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... he's going to buy a studio and really create poetry!

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the "there once was a man from Nantucket" school of verse, but you'll be surprised to learn: There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy

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Your mind is missing a Coney Island

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of a dozen names of women of my acquaintance, with some superficial personal detail of each (hair color, eye color, favorite hobby, cat's name), would this poet compose a poem for each woman, phrased as if from my perspective?

Handwritten poems... My social calendar is about to be packed.

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From 9, 3 is the square root
You are very cute

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she was in front of the artisanal mayonnaise shop?

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Sometimes making fun
Of silly JP People
Is just too easy

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This is wonderfully quirky.

Haters gonna hate in the comments as usual.

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"...the glow will leak out.This is the color of memory." I like the various uses of amber. This is a poem of light and memory, of vision and mind.

Saw the young lady in front of JP Licks last week. This is a sweet gift to people walking around the area. Thank you Ms. Nethercott.

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