Post more comments

Rhythm and Rhyme Workshop


Post a message
  • Dylan Barker (4/11/2007 12:33:00 PM) Post reply

    would you read poems by me? i would appreciatte it.

  • Josie Whitehead (3/24/2007 10:46:00 AM) Post reply

    POEMS FOR CHILDREN with art projects for them to do:

    I have made some of my poems available as inserts for birthday cards, Easter cards, Mother's Day cards etc. I know that children love craft projects. If yohttp: //www.whiteheadm.co.uk/html/greetings_card.htm#greetingsCardsu have children, why not help them to make a card for Easter as a start: (I think my husband is just about to add this to the other cards this weekend - so why not start them with a birthday card?) You can buy the A4 cards at art shops and the peel-off greetings to accompany them. I hope you have fun.

  • Stug Jordan (3/19/2007 8:24:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I'm beggining to lose my love of rhythm. Can you still call a poem a poem when you find yourself tapping it out on your knee with a pencil?

    Replies for this message:
  • Lucy Marskell (3/18/2007 9:37:00 AM) Post reply

    Hey everyone!
    I'm fairly new to Poemhunter
    and i was wondering if u can check out my poems
    i use a lot of rhyme in mine cuz i love it!

  • Josie Whitehead (3/17/2007 5:31:00 AM) Post reply

    I enjoy reading poetry written with rhythm and rhyme most of all, and small children enjoy it because, they tell me, it is fun. However, I must say that I have seen some terrible examples of this type of writing. Some of it can be as tacky as the sort of things you read inside cheap birthday cards. There is certainly a place in the intellectual world also for rhyming poetry, and many of our great poets have used it very successfully. I would say that, as a start to writing in this way, why not take the work of a great writer and examine how he has written, ie, the rhythm, the metre, the metaphors he uses and everything else. You can practise mirroring (or reflecting) his/her poem. Here is an example:

    Down By The Salley Gardens

    By William Butler Yeates


    DOWN by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;
    She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.
    She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;
    But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.


    In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
    And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.
    She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
    But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.


    Then my shadow/mirror of this lovely little poem:

    BY THE WATERFALLS OF ILKLEY


    By Josie



    By the waterfalls of Ilkley, my love and I did meet
    Her eyes were filled with loveliness, her cherry lips were sweet.
    She warned me not to love her, with a warning so severe
    But my heart told me otherwise, and my ears, they didn't hear.

    In the springtime, ‘neath the cherry trees, I looked at her again –
    To tell me not to fall for her, was to tell me quite in vain.
    She warned me not to love her – her words were loud and clear –
    But now I’m standing by the riverside, without my Ruby dear.



    I would also suggest, that people who wish to be good writers, learn how to use punctuation correctly, especially the apostrophe and inverted commas. Even simple things, such as commas, can make a big difference to the meaning. It goes without saying, that a good writer will always check their spelling too, but there is nothing worse than seeing someone writing their mother-tongue without even bothering to check what they have written, or writing in a way that suggests they are just texting a message on a mobile phone. Am I alone in thinking along these lines?

  • kskdnj sajn (3/4/2007 10:15:00 PM) Post reply

    Gosh, I've been waiting a long time for a 'workshop' on this forum. lol.

  • Ronald Clark (2/27/2007 6:35:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Alright heres a new one i came up last Satuday, tell me your thoughts please.

    'I Never Liked My Odds'

    You better not compromise
    My eternal ties
    With my family and my lovers
    Let me hide beneath the covers
    Cause the truth is
    I don't think i could survive
    All alone
    A hundred to one
    And in my 1% rise my courage
    Just to be shot down by my ninety-nine fears
    hold on wait a second
    Let me comprhend
    These odds
    Let me mend
    Your nods
    SO please agree with
    My, my, my, my
    Certanties
    Cause i most certaintly
    Will surface
    To an ever overflowing pond
    That is my obstacle
    Yes, under the covers i will stay
    Till there be a day
    When odds are counted out
    So that i may see what odd are about

    I would appreciate your comments, cause saying nothing wont help me get any better, Thank you! ! !

    Replies for this message:
    • Josie Whitehead (3/17/2007 5:36:00 AM) Post reply

      Dear Ronald I am also struggling with rhyming and rhythmic poetry. It is very difficult to do well successfully. I can see that you have really tried, but I would suggest that you read what I hav ... more

  • Deanna More (1/29/2007 9:03:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    After I write most of my 'Rhythm & Rhyme' Poetry,
    I read it while tapping my toe to see if I've accomplished a BEAT.

    Here's an example...'Rais'n Hell at the Bar & Grill'

    In Trailer Park Zoo, North of Ludlow,
    SUE danced to the song on her radio.
    Hollered ''Hell, yeah! ''..like a true Red Neck,
    While kissing her monthly Welfare Check.

    Bosoms were hoisted by an up-lift bra.
    Her girdled tush looked snugly un-flawed.
    Dimpled flesh held taut - by tight Spandex.
    Her trailer park key, swung from her neck.

    Newly divorced, she guzzled down...
    Her last cold beer. Then, headed for town.
    Parked her truck at the Bar & Grill.
    ''A Trailer Park Queen, out for a thrill.''

    Hiding away any money she had.
    ''I'll find a Loser to pay my Bar Tab! ''
    She spied two fools, sharing a stool.
    T'was Siamese Twins, Jim + Joe O'Toole.

    Some-Are Teeth, they grinningly bared.
    ''Some-are...here and some-are...there.''
    Tho' their hideousness caused Sue to stare.
    She stuck to them, like a hare in a snare.

    On four knees, she sat, drinking ''Free Beer! ''
    Flirt'n and hug'n and kiss'n their ears.
    Trouble began when Joe asked for a dance,
    En-raging Jim, cause he wanted first chance.

    Two brothers fighting, attached at the groin.
    Sue yelled ''Can't yah just... flip a coin? ''
    Oops! Too late! All 3 toppled to the floor.
    ''You %#* Morons.''..she cursed and swore.

    Bloodied...+...Bruised...+...Pepper Sprayed,
    In handcuffs, the twins were lead away.
    Regretting their quarrel with deepest sorrow.
    ''I hope she returns the $500 she borrowed! ''

    Miles away, in the comfort of home,
    An idea sparked. Sue grabbed the phone.
    ''Male Escort Service? Please, send me 3.
    I've 500 reasons to...PAR-TEE! ''

    Replies for this message:
    • Goldy Locks (2/8/2007 4:21:00 PM) Post reply

      Post your poems on your own page & consider this an all-there-is-to-it situation.

  • Roger Bowman (12/12/2006 6:00:00 PM) Post reply

    This Friday as every Friday since last Friday is booze night with crazy poemos and stories so u r all welcome to write something and add it to ur list, if u like.

    All the best and more
    Roger

  • Roger Bowman (11/30/2006 4:53:00 PM) Post reply

    Any French or French speakin fellow poemhunters out there could tell me your opinion for Le chasseur de l'esprit.Its my poemo Mindhunter in French though I dont know French, with a little help of a friend of mine I manage to write it.
    Thanks
    Roger

[Hata Bildir]