Congratulations, Barbara! Charming poem. :)
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Congratulations, Barbara! Charming poem. :)
Congratulations, Barbara! Looking forward to seeing what new form you pick. :)
Congradulations appear to be in order, Barbie! http://www.cosgan.de/images/midi/sportlich/a040.gif What form d'ya 'ave in mind, doll?
Thank you very much for picking Aunt Jess, autolycus! I'm sure you had a hard time making a decision because there were excellent contributions. The more I feel honoured. :blush:
And thank you, Riesa, Petrarch's Love and Pen, for your congratulations. :)
Petrarch's Love, your name gave me the idea for the new form - the sonnet. Maybe it has been done before (I didn't want to go through all 17 pages of the thread), but I don't want the Shakespearean one but the form that was used in German baroque.
There are 4 stanzas, two of four lines and then two of three lines.
Rhyme: abab - cdcd - eef - ggf. (But if you find your own rhyme scheme, that's fine by me.)
The metre is the iambic hexameter (s = stressed syllable; u = unstressed syllable):
ususus(,) ususus(u)
Be funny or witty or serious or sad - and have fun.
I hope I've made myself clear above. If not, don't hesitate to say so. ;)
hey barabara :D congrats!!
hmm i was never good at meters, but let's see if i can cook anything up :p
got a deadline yet?
Congratulations barbara, it was a fun poem :)
I bow to other's wishes perhaps too easily... the poem is doomed from the start, but I trust you will enjoy it anyway, that is more important than winning anyway, or should be to any true poet!
Soothing Night
Mother Night moves like a dark regal lady,
Stars glisten in the tangled tresses of her hair.
I have run from my fears and pain daily—
Each time her arms have sheltered me there.
Her voice whispers soft as the moonlight,
Soothing and gentle as she rocks me to sleep.
I do not know why anyone would ever fear Night—
For only in her arms can I ever find real peace.
The wisdom of the ages abide in the starry eyes,
Listening to her whispers could make a man wise—
This Dark Goddess that is crowned with the moon…
When the stress of the day has worn down my soul,
I wait on her coming, for her cloak to enfold
Knowing that comfort will be there and I can rest soon…
Pendragon
© 10/11/07
Thank you very much, symphony and FifthElement!
About a deadline: Shall we say October 22? (We can always extend it, depending on the number of poems ;) )
Um, yes, I can see that. :D (No offense)Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
I like the theme of your poem. But the meter is really important for this form, more so than the rhyme scheme, which may vary. And as this is a form poetry contest I'd like to insist on the correct meter, just like autolycus insisted on correct syllable count. :D
The iambic hexameter is not very hard to do. Seeing that you are a musician, Pen, just think of it as a song with a certain rhythm:
ta-tum-ta-tum-ta-tum; ta-tum-ta-tum-ta-tum (ta),
just fourteen lines of that. If you clap your hands with every "tum", it will be easy. ;)
Actually, Barbie, I'll just withdraw the sonnet. The form doesn't rule me, I rule the form. No one has ever complained about one of my sonnets. I'm sorry if this doesn't fit your "foot and meter" requirements. When I started this form contest thread, I intended it to be just that, form. People have taken form and added in requirements such as the syllable count in a lymerick, and now a certain foot and meter. OK, if you want. I'm out. My form poetry is well accepted because I don't allow the form to rule me. So I respectfully withdraw my poem.Quote:
Originally Posted by barbara0207
Pen
Now I did offend you, Pen. I'm very, very sorry about that. :( And I certainly did not complain about the content of your poem. I loved it, it felt soothing and comforting. It just does not meet the requirements of "form".
There seems to be a deep misunderstanding concerning the term "form". To you, a sonnet is a poem of 14 lines and perhaps a certain structure and some rhymes. To me, sonnets are divided into Petrarchan, Shakespearean, German baroque etc., each of them having a certain metre and rhyme scheme. In former times poets followed the rules rather strictly, so I thought that was what this thread was all about. Sorry I misunderstood.
If everybody else on this thread thinks I should remove the requirements of meter, I will do so. What do you say?
Since it's caused unfortunate misunderstanding, I would be all for keeping meter suggested but optional for this round. It's only fun if everybody joins in with happy feet.
... or with out any "feet" :lol: :lol: :lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by Petrarch's Love
I think King Solomon himself could not have made a wiser suggestion. :D
So be it: Meter suggested but optional.
So I hope you won't withdraw your poem, Pen! :)
Hoorah! Now everyone can play. Put that poem back up there Pen; I want to read it. May have to write an entry myself. Controversy makes a thread so much more interesting to participate in. :)
Back up! http://www.online-literature.com/for...&postcount=247 http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1.../Four/Dale.gifQuote:
Originally Posted by Petrarch's Love
I'm really glad we got this misunderstanding worked out, and also glad the meter was made optional, because that's one of my favorite sonnets by you Pen., and I like the free quality of the meter in this case. I have had similar feelings about the night before. You express it beautifully.
P.S. After reading it again I noticed one little typo. In line three I think you meant to say " I have run" instead of "I have ran." One tiny mistake in an otherwise lovely poem.
Thank you, Petra. As I said before, flow means more to me than meter, when I try meter, I write too stilted, and have to force-rhyme. That's not my style of poetry. (I keep forgetting you are a teacher! Grammar corrected!) http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...omKane/Red.gifQuote:
Originally Posted by Petrarch's Love
Barbara, it begins to seem as if I have ruined your contest. I beg forgiveness. Look people. I have an illness, OK? It isn't going to go away, no matter how much I wish it would. And it sometimes makes me irrational. It goes with the illness. Take some time out of your busy schudle, and educate yourself about Bi Polar and you will understand me better. It is what others could and should have done, but they to this day refuse.
But don't screw up this contest for Barb, because you think you will hurt my feelings. I have lived with this stuff 13 long hard years. I will not stand by and see this contest destroyed over me. Hop to it and get some poetry in here. I will leave the forum entirely before I will be the cause of a single hurt feeling here.
You think I don't love you or care for you? Wrong number! I love you all. And I love you enough to let you go if that is what is best for you. Not one of you has entered a poem except me. Now get cracking and get those poems in. Time is wasting away. Never take me lightly, I mean what I say!
Pen, you haven't damaged the thread at all. Perhaps people are struggling for inspiration? I know I found the last form a challenge, and sonnets are really not my thing. I might write something, if inspiration strikes, but I can't make any promises on this one.Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
I think most people understand about your illness, and if they don't that's their loss not yours. Don't feel that you have to apologise for something which is outside your control, imagine if someone apologised to you for having a broken arm, or the 'flu. Just because your illness manifests in a different way doesn't mean that it's any different.
Sorry if that sounded like a rant - I have a friend who suffers with depression so I've seen the effects from the outside. I understand how unpleasant it can be.
Barbara - I really will try and write something! I'm glad you dropped the meter - my head was spinning, line count, syllable count, rhyme scheme, meter. I'm such a lightweight.
Now Pen, don't be too self conscious. You haven't hurt people's feelings and you haven't ruined the thread, so rest easy. We just can't all turn out wonderful sonnets as quickly as you can (you're so good at getting these poems turned out!). :) Please don't think the dearth of entries has anything to do with you, and certainly not with your illness. I think people are just busy thinking out what they can pack into fourteen lines. As it happens I have some free time this evening and was planning to work out a little something anyway so, if the muse is with me, your entry won't be alone much longer. :idea:
And we all love you too, Uncle Pen, which is why we're telling you not to apologise just because we're not as fast as you or as good a poet!Quote:
You think I don't love you or care for you? Wrong number! I love you all.
We also mean what we say! And we're telling you not to feel bad about any of this 'cuz you dont have to. :)Quote:
Never take me lightly, I mean what I say!
Petrarch: Looking forward to another wonderful sonnet then. ;)
Well, here's my attempt for this round. Experimented with a loose alexandrine throughout and have my reservations about the result, but I guess I'll leave it to the judge. ;)
This ground last year this time was white with the new snows
Like fine sugar, equally scattered. Early. Thin.
Here where we glimpse the last colour of the last rose
Last year this time all life was shriveled in sharp wind.
This year, so blessed with late and lasting sunlight
Is ignorant of youth cut short by early frost,
Unreflecting fades in golden autumn twilight,
Knows nothing of being undone by sudden loss.
The years will come and go, late and soon, as they may
And they must come and go, though they might wish to stay
While this little plot of earth, unconcerned, sees them pass
This ground last year this time held one with hair like snow
Here, where now the fresh earth holds fresh young limbs below.
And this little plot of earth, unconcerned, sees us pass.
Hoorah! We've got two entries now. But I think it's time to extend the deadline. How about October 30?
I implore all muses to inspire their litnet poets!
PS: Petra, your poem gave me the shivers!
No, you're not. I've read enough posts from you to know.Quote:
Originally Posted by TheFifthElement
This thread is supposed to be fun. And if poeple don't find it fun to play with a very, very strict form - well, one has to be less strict.
So please have fun everyone. :D
Bump! goes the thread,
it's almost dead.
I beg you, please,
I'm on my knees,
please write a sonnet,
I'm counting on it!
Two entries only
feel so lonely.
It's not so hard -
please try and start!
OK, let me try. Give me a couple of days.Quote:
Originally Posted by barbara0207
Well....if you're gonna beg....lol:D
I have been reading this form poetry contest all along but I am sooo lazy. But I have learned so much. Here is my very trite and simple entry. I would like to know if it is even close to what you are looking for and to know exactly where I am right and where I am wrong.
Dancing Hearts
Please join me in this dance
We'll prance around the floor
Together we'll enhance
The music of the score
So take me in your arms
Let's make a memory
Our speed might cause alarms
But oh such fun to see
Now dip and spin me 'round
Their breath, they hold, no sound
At last their clapping starts
The night has been a blast
But went by way too fast
And joined our dancing hearts.
It was the best of times; it was the worst of times;
The shadow and the fire made the first of rhymes.
The child was in its cradle and the wolf asleep,
And both were counting out the innocence of sheep;
But Mother always hummed to them a lullaby,
In alternating lines of half-matched melody,
And found the soothing best to be the rocking beat:
A tidal lub-dub in each line and then repeat.
Since then the fractured world, in chaos and despair,
Has turned its back on Mum and wandered everywhere.
And thus the lullaby has fallen ill and dead...
There's no more need to rhyme, the wolf is now a dog;
And baby sleeps content in silence as a log
Upon the rhymeless altar of the modern bed.
Right. New deadline: November 5Quote:
Originally Posted by Virgil
Ampoule: Perfect form. :thumbs_up
Thank you, everybody, for your entries. They're going to give me a hard time choosing. I love them all.
Ok Barbara, here's my attempt. I don't know if you understand baseball, but the world series inspired me to write on it.
Quote:
Baseball
What caused the electric air in the park
To pace the game from inning to inning?
Did the World Series spit that special spark
To send players running, the ball spinning?
The pitcher winds, cocks his arm, snaps the wrist;
The batter spread on the balls of his feet
Sweeps the lumber, the curved arc at the gist
Of contact, the glint where bat and ball meet.
Motion takes over: ball departs, glides, soars;
Batter stumbles, regains by the fan’s roars,
Races to juncture of ball, tag, and slide.
The hoarse voice of the umpire’s shout
Dissolves into the night’s whiff without doubt;
Rooters groan and let their pennants subside.
I would like to join in.
Where would we be without it?
It's subtle curvature outlines it's beauty
Fully bloomed it exudes a shiny pink hue
Growing to fruition with life, it's duty
It'll brighten the day and enlighten your mood
It's scalloped branches stretch out for the sky
Trapping the rain that decends night or day
Peeling it's bark as it grabs for the light
Red, brown and beige, it's bold colors array
It's rippened ovaries, a deceitful delight
It's sweet tasting bounty appeased Eve's appetite
For centuries this grand malus has been cherished
Written about since freewill began
This immortal being of Eden
Can't be blamed as Adam's soul perished
I know some basics, but there are a few things I'll have to look up. In case of doubt, I'll ask you. :DQuote:
Originally Posted by Virgil
Anyway, I'm glad you made it, Virgil.
Rockin: Thank you very much for your entry and welcome to the forum!
Thanks
I'm not very good with forms, but in the interest of having fun, which I very much enjoy, here is my humble entry.
The Everlasting
Where will I be that hour,
using my hands or words,
fingers in the flowers,
or lines that go unheard?
There was a garden once,
with Columbine and Rue.
Queen Anne’s Lace bowed in dance,
above the Feverfew.
Most likely there I’ll go,
where the Everlasting grow,
and what thoughts that I may save,
in free or metered verse,
my best, thank God my worst,
go with me to the grave.
Thanks, Firefangled!
One more day to go, everyone! The competition will be closed on November 5, 23.59 (11.59 pm) CET
Meanwhile I'm brooding which one to choose. As hard as cracking a coconut open with your bare hands ...
guess i cant make it this time :(
.... :( ..... :( ...
oh well, sonnets were never my cup of tea anyway! *shrug* ....
well done and good luck everyone :) good to see u're giving barb such a tough time! :D
This contest is closed.
I envy Paris somehow. He only had to choose from three beauties. I've got seven beauties. But no, no envy. I'm quite sure my choice won't have an outcome as disastrous as Paris's. :D
Wednesday's the day. (around 23.00 hours/11 pm CET)
Well, my seven beauties, line up for inspection. Are you ready?
Pen: You wrote what we will hence refer to as Pendragonian sonnet, a new form with no meter but a regular rhyme scheme which is, however, obeyed loosely. You show that one can create beautiful poetry with that form. I loved your central image of "Mother Night", the "regal lady", who protects and comforts you. Very soothing and heart-warming.
Petrarch's Love: You say you worked with a "loose alexandrine". That's how you gave the term Petrarchan sonnet a new meaning. I loved how you played with the colour white and with the imagery from nature. The repetition of the last line in the tercets was very impressing as it appears ambiguous. I, for one, was quite unprepared for the ending when I read your poem for the first time. As I said, it gave me the shivers.
Ampoule: You use a very regular meter and rhyme so you can actually hear the music when you read it aloud. It's like song lyrics, who knows, perhaps someone will create a tune for it. I had a small problem with the use of the pronoun "they" at the end. Could it be you meant onlookers here holding their breath and then clapping? You might have made that a bit clearer (but perhaps it's just me.) Anyway, I enjoyed listening to the music and watching you dance.
Autolycus: Your "Short History of Poetry" was serious, witty and funny - all in one. I loved the image of the mother soothing her baby by the fire with her "tidal lub dub". And the way you connect that to modern times was brilliant. Moreover you're the only one to meet the original requirements completely. Beautiful! Pity I can't count that any more. But it wouldn't have done if we'd only had one entry, would it?
Virgil: What an excellent idea to describe a baseball game in a poem - and a sonnet at that! I've never read something alike in poetry before. It was like one moment of the game in slow motion. Very vivid description of the pitcher throwing, the batter hitting, the umpire, the reaction of the fans. Great. Seems I'll have to watch some baseball soon (only you hardly get it on TV over here).
Rockin I loved your theme, the connection of the apple tree and free will. It starts quite "harmless" with a "simple" apple tree until you bring in the Garden of Eden, temptation and free will. (I take it that you meant "its" instead of "it's" and ripened (not "ripped")? At least that's how I read it, it made the most sense to me.) Your poem is well-structured. In form it's a Pendragonian sonnet. I hope you're not cross with me that I named it after Pen - he was the first to enter this form. :)
Firefangled: Where will the poet go - and where his or her works? I'm sure in the garden "where the Everlasting grow" there is a place reserved for you. And don't you take your "best" to the grave or anywhere else, but leave them here for every litnetter to enjoy! And don't leave us too early, either. There's still a lot of time and I'm sure there is a lot more you want to tell us "in metered or free verse"!
Oh my beauties, I had a very good time appreciating your quite different types of beauty. And - running out of objective criteria - I will choose the one that appeals to me most. Love at first sight, and on second reading, and third and fourth ...
The winner is Autolycus's sonnet - for its wit and its theme (I've always wanted to say that myself :D ) but NOT for its meter - believe it or not. Yes, I know that autolycus won the one before this one. But I couldn't shun that sonnet just on these grounds, there are several others who have won other contests. It wouldn't have been fair.
So come and murder me now. I couldn't help myself. :) But let me thank everyone again for their contributions. I think we had a high quality contest here. Well done, everyone. :thumbs_up
Thank you Barbara on your kind words. And congratulations Autolycus, very imaginative poem. I really liked it, especially the sestet:
"The wolf is now a dog" is quite a line. :)Quote:
Since then the fractured world, in chaos and despair,
Has turned its back on Mum and wandered everywhere.
And thus the lullaby has fallen ill and dead...
There's no more need to rhyme, the wolf is now a dog;
And baby sleeps content in silence as a log
Upon the rhymeless altar of the modern bed.
Congrats auto. :) Thats a great poem.
Congratulations, Auto! A well deserved win.
And thanks for the feedback, Barbara.