Poetics and Poetry Discussion
(4/4/2005 9:55:00 PM)
This is another challenge.... to write a poem with the only rhyme allowed in the centre of each line. No rhyme is allowed at either the beginning OR the end of any line... see what happens? I am following Robert OJ's suggestion to exercise ourselves. Sxx
(4/4/2005 9:10:00 PM)
A Challenge in Rhyme
A murdered poet? Is it true?
What the hell should we do?
Should we bid ourselves adieu?
Should we cheer, should we boo?
Should we shout into the blue?
Should we gasp, should we coo?
Should we drink the fallen dew?
Make a coat of a newborn ewe?
Mourn the loved and fallen few?
Stop and hold us all with glue?
Laugh at those of even hue?
And were God’s first people really Jews?
Cause I Never heard of one named Lou.
Yes, cows are always saying moo,
That of course, is nothing new.
There’s nothing here for saying “oooo”
Or sitting pious in a pew,
Or standing in a pious queue,
Or in Paris at the Rue.
Yes, American’s will always sue.
Yes I will, it's me too.
So here’s a “Dear John” line for you.
And all without a darkened view,
There’s nothing left to win or woo.
Nothing left but me and you.
Sure seems like a lonely zoo.
(4/4/2005 5:25:00 PM)
There's a new poet on the site named Sean McDowell. He posted a number of poems today that I think are worth checking out.
(4/4/2005 5:07:00 PM)
This has happened to me twice. Make sure he did not change his settings on his personal page accidentally.
Waiting for management can be tiring. I am still waiting for them to keep a promise (to wipe the cacatum from that English scum off my pages) , it's been many weeks. But then, my first message to P/H management in the beginning was answereds 3 months later.
Not to worry, I live in Australia, it's the norm here.
(4/4/2005 12:43:00 PM)
I went to America, to meet the king
I had a front seat, near the ring
when the man began to sing
He would croon away, just like Bing
It was Elvis the pelvis, 'who could shake that thing'
He had groove and style, like an eagle on a wing
The steps in his toes came from a spring
That may have been started, from the highland fling
We called him the king, because he made us swing
And does this little ditty, have a tale with a sting
Then if it does, it's the doctor I'll bring
And he will bandage it up and tie it with string
(4/4/2005 9:15:00 AM)
This is an old one that I wrote ten years ago but I'm posting it here in response to the latest challenge :)
Give me the answers I request,
What more can you do when you’re doing your best?
How much can you take when you’re put to the test?
Where is my home, my place, my nest?
When do you know how much love to invest?
Who can you trust to ease the unrest?
Will anyone hear, when I protest?
How long will I wait for the absent guest?
Where is the sense I once possessed?
Won’t somebody show a little interest?
And If I’m rejected, will I regress?
Don’t I deserve to make some progress?
Is it dangerous to let my thoughts be expressed?
Should my brain be dissected and reassessed?
Oh, how can you joke, how can you jest?
Would you like me more if I undressed?
Could I be your ultimate conquest?
Does it ease the pain when we’re caressed?
(4/4/2005 6:16:00 AM)
In the morning I saw Fred Astaire.
A bit later I went to the Fair,
they were talking about Tony Blair
how he told the old Prez they would share
how his people came over to care
in Iraq's deadly climate and glare
of the desert sun's rays that would tear
into skins and your eyes over there
but the women they don't like to bare
either faces or shapes of a pear,
and who could not display any flair.
I can't wait to return to O'Hare
it's my life that I want them to spare.
That makes 14 good lines now, mon frère.
But hold on and continue to stare,
this makes sixteen, just add the word Bear.
(4/4/2005 4:41:00 AM)
It's been a while since I've been there,
feeling the wind blow through my hair,
watching kids fly by while their,
joyous squeaks and yells fill the air.
Been a while since I stood outside to stare
as sun met snow, creating such a beautiful glare.
watching sunset, free, without a care,
before retiring before a fire in a cozy lair.
There's a warm place I'd like to share,
a place with such incredible beauty rare,
but to invite you in I see as only fair,
for if I don't you'll be a snack for that bear.
Allan James Saywell
(4/4/2005 4:22:00 AM)
My poem' boo hoo hoo kangaroo'is now a starter in your competition
ladies and gent's
(4/3/2005 11:12:00 PM)
Posted 3 to the challenge.