Poetry game

[Isagel]

I have a small game I like to pass time on the train to work. I like to mix lines from old poems to create new ones. Now I thought that it would be even more fun to play it with you. Here´s the game-

For example, I´ll start with -

To see a world in a grain of sand (by Blake)

and for the second line I´ll choose -

And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain ( by Oscar Wilde)

Now we have a start of a new poem -

To see a world in a grain of sand
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain

When someone thinks the poem is done, put it together and let´s start a new one. Perhaps we can put them in personal poetry :-) .

[amuse]

:) ooh, fun! what got you started with this, Isagel?

To see a world in a grain of sand
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

(Annabel Lee, by Poe)

[mono]

To see a world in a grain of sand
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day (from Shakespeare's sonnet LXXV)

[Scheherazade]

To see a world in a grain of sand
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day.
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly (from Sonnet V, 'Sonnets From the Portuguese' by E.B. Browning)

[mono]

To see a world in a grain of sand
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day.
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
My little horse must think it queer (from Robert Frost's 'Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening)

[Taliesin]

To see a world in a grain of sand
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day.
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
My little horse must think it queer
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi (W. B. Yeats, Second Coming)

[mono]

To see a world in a grain of sand
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day.
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
My little horse must think it queer
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi,
That soundless tugs - within - (from Emily Dickinson's #365)

[Psyche]

To see a world in a grain of sand
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day.
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
My little horse must think it queer
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi,
That soundless tugs - within -
Where the sunset reaches and quivers. (from Carl Sanburg's Selected Poems)

[Isagel]

:) ooh, fun! what got you started with this, Isagel?



To see a world in a grain of sand
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day.
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
My little horse must think it queer
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi,
That soundless tugs - within -
Where the sunset reaches and quivers
rage, rage against the dying of the light (Dylan Thomas)

I think we have finished our first poem!

Care to play again?

Hope is the thing with feathers (Emily Dickinson)

[mono]

Hope is the thing with feathers
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet (D.H. Lawrence's "After the Opera")

[amuse]

Hope is the thing with feathers
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet
and I ached in the metal silence

(Richard Brautigan - "Hinged To Forgetfulness Like A Door"

[Scheherazade]

Hope is the thing with feathers
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet
and I ached in the metal silence
here is the deepest secret nobody knows ('i carry your heart with me(i carry it in' by ee cummings)

[mono]

Hope is the thing with feathers,
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet,
And I ached in the metal silence.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow

(from "Weather" by Ambrose Bierce)

[Psyche]

Hope is the thing with feathers,
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet,
And I ached in the metal silence.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves

(from 'The Sorrow of Love' by William Butler Yeats)

[Scheherazade]

Hope is the thing with feathers,
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet,
And I ached in the metal silence.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves
For spring bade the sparrows pair,

(from 'Youth and Art' by R. Browning)

[Koa]

can we do this same game with song verses too?(i mean we do it in another thread so we use songs there and poems here). i don't know so many poems to be able to find one that fits I think...*mumbles on*

[Isagel]

Well, why not? I think you can post parts of lyrics here if you like.

[mono]

Hope is the thing with feathers,
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet,
And I ached in the metal silence.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves
For spring bade the sparrows pair,
And here were forests ancient as the hills,

(from 'Kubla Khan' by Samuel Taylor Coleridge)

[Scheherazade]

Hope is the thing with feathers,
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet,
And I ached in the metal silence.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves
For spring bade the sparrows pair,
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
And, heaven being rolled between us at the end,

(from Sonnet II, 'Sonnets from the Portuguese' By EB Browning)

[Veritas]

Hope is the thing with feathers,
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet,
And I ached in the metal silence.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves
For spring bade the sparrows pair,
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
And, heaven being rolled between us at the end,
Dark with pollution not its own, it speeds
Back to the Fountain of all purities;

(from Rumi's "The Spirit of the Saints")

[mono]

Hope is the thing with feathers,
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet,
And I ached in the metal silence.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves
For spring bade the sparrows pair,
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
And, heaven being rolled between us at the end,
Dark with pollution not its own, it speeds
Back to the Fountain of all purities;
When first my eyes saw thee,

(from Ralph Waldo Emerson's Ode to Beauty)

[Scheherazade]

Hope is the thing with feathers,
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet,
And I ached in the metal silence.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves
For spring bade the sparrows pair,
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
And, heaven being rolled between us at the end,
Dark with pollution not its own, it speeds
Back to the Fountain of all purities;
When first my eyes saw thee,
The blood replenished me again;

(from 'Last Ride Together' by R.Browning)

[mono]

Hope is the thing with feathers,
Stepping like birds with their bright and pointed feet,
And I ached in the metal silence.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves
For spring bade the sparrows pair,
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
And, heaven being rolled between us at the end,
Dark with pollution not its own, it speeds
Back to the Fountain of all purities;
When first my eyes saw thee,
The blood replenished me again;
Might not have this been just a magical illusion?

From "Adam Cast Forth" by Jorge Luis Borges

[mono]

I really enjoyed this game, while in action, so I thought to dig this thread out of the catacombs of page 3 in the 'Games' sub-section.
For everyone who has not played, the rules, as began by Isagel:

I have a small game I like to pass time on the train to work. I like to mix lines from old poems to create new ones. Now I thought that it would be even more fun to play it with you. Here´s the game-

For example, I´ll start with -

To see a world in a grain of sand (by Blake)

and for the second line I´ll choose -

And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain ( by Oscar Wilde)

Now we have a start of a new poem -

To see a world in a grain of sand
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain

When someone thinks the poem is done, put it together and let´s start a new one. Perhaps we can put them in personal poetry :-) .
Seeing that the last collective poem has probably reached its finish. I will begin with another first line:

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary (from Sylvia Plath's "The Moon And The Yew Tree")

[Taliesin]

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary
The shadow lies upon his tomb (Song of Durin's awakening, Tolkien)

[mono]

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary
The shadow lies upon his tomb
So close to our dwelling place (from "The Sound of the Trees" by Robert Frost)

[Nightshade]

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary
The shadow lies upon his tomb
So close to our dwelling place
The clouds, the trees, the rounded hills all seem. ( from "on visiting The tomb of Burns" by John Keats)

[Isagel]

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary
The shadow lies upon his tomb
So close to our dwelling place
The clouds, the trees, the rounded hills all seem.
A mind at peace with all below, ( She walks in beauty - Lord Byron)

[mono]

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary;
The shadow lies upon his tomb,
So close to our dwelling place.
The clouds, the trees, the rounded hills all seem
A mind at peace with all below.
How sweet it would have tasted ("Victory Comes Late" - Emily Dickinson)

[tailor STATELY]

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary;
The shadow lies upon his tomb,
So close to our dwelling place.
The clouds, the trees, the rounded hills all seem
A mind at peace with all below.
How sweet it would have tasted
Rare-sweet the air in that unimagined country. (The Unfinished Dream - Walter De La Mare