Form Poem Contest

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Pendragon

Sure, whatever, go for it, etc.

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I'm very sorry folks, it's been hell being me this last month. Pray forgive me.

actually, I went here: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/5789
I seem to have chosen a poem from the wrong place however, (Good catch, YesNo!)

Here's a good example to go by, showing how to vary the repeating line and still keep form:

John McCrae’s 1915 wartime poem,
"In Flanders Fields":

In Flanders fields the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead; short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Forgive my lassitude and please enter the contest.

Love to you all and God Bless

Pendragon

Summer

Around the yard the children played,
All small, with tiny feet to wade
Through green that sparkled in the sun
And tickled legs to jump and run
While parents on the side-lines stayed.

When restless dreams must be delayed
And pain insists it must be paid
Some doubt, but life has always won,
And honors, and abandons none
Around the yard.

Warm summers with their pleasures made
Fresh flowers open others fade
To rest when their brief tasks were done.
Let others rush to join the fun
And laugh with life through sun and shade
Around the yard.

The Black Queen

Black clouds gather as the storm begins to rise,
in shadows I watch you plan my demise,
my soul quakes in perverse delight,
the tempest I'll bring upon you in fright,
your mask cracks, and I see through your disguise.

Once I trembled with your twisted lies
now I'll topple you from abysmal skies,
Lucifer falling in thunder's light,
Black clouds gather.

Without remorse I close your dead eyes
and leave you behind with the worms and flies,
empty smiles in the waning night,
the darkness was mine to smother your plight,
no others will be mislead by your guise
Black clouds gather.

the air is dense
with forest fence
the rivers's pale
with too much hale
everything else if paused and tense

the skies are blend
with something trend
the cooling of the breeze and ale
dissipates fast somewhere to rise.

fountains churn colours of sense
beautiful daisies lay intense
reflections of a day immense
the view is a fascinating tale
the moment of a captive dale
dissipate fast somewhere to rise.

I'm going to give the contest until Wednesday week from now. I'll be back from Nashville to see my daughter (who is pregnant with my grandson, Logan Michael Kohari) by then. Keep the poems coming!

Hanging On

If our paths cross sometime tonight
Beneath these humming argon lights,
In the hour we’re both around
When my breath's lost and yours is found,
I’ll feel I did just one thing right.

The quacks make sure I’m out of sight,
As Annie yells with all her might.
I’ll tell you how to calm her down,
If our paths cross.

And, by the way, your mom’s alright.
She’ll make a man of you despite
A dad who was a drunken clown.
I'm proud of her. I guess I’m bound
To tell her so. I will, tonight,
If our paths cross.

I apologize for the late judging, my laptop was stolen when my son's home was robbed. Lost a lot of data I had failed to back up. You live, you learn...

Now then:

YesNo. Love it, reminds me of childhood!

Dark Muse: Always at your morbid best, well done!

cacian: Interesting choice

But the winner is:

MarkBastable

That repeating line "If our paths cross" evokes memories of old friends, old flames, and old enemies... What would I do "if our paths cross"? Hummm...

Congrats. MarkBastable

Pendragon very sorry to hear about your laptop.
Robbery seems to be a daily act.
I was just talking to my son yesterday telling me his friend got robbed in his home whilst he was asleep. It happened in the early hours of the morning. His laptop also gone.

Thank you for the feedback and MarkBarstable congratulations!!

Thank you. I'm chuffed.


Okay, let's do a limerick. Limericks needn't necessarily be comic, but they almost always are because the rhyme scheme and the metre just strike the ear as funny. When limericks fail, it's often because not enough work has been done on getting the metre right.

Wiki is forthcoming in this area.


The standard form of a limerick is a stanza of five lines, with the first, second and fifth usually rhyming with one another and having three feet of three syllables each; and the shorter third and fourth lines also rhyming with each other, but having only two feet of three syllables. The defining "foot" of a limerick's meter is usually the anapaest, (ta-ta-TUM), but limericks can also be considered amphibrachic (ta-TUM-ta)[dubious – discuss].

However, from a rhythmic point of view, lines 1, 2 and 5 have a silent accent at the end, making 4 accents per line. Lines 3 and 4 combined also have 4 accents, making four lines with an overall total of 16 accents (i.e. foot tapping "beats" ). Reading, or reciting, naturally follows the rhythm of 6/8 time, making eight bars of two triplets per bar. A triplet represents a "foot" of 3 syllables.

Er, yuh. Whatevs. The point is, it has be dead-on...

T'boppeter boppeter bopper
T'boppeter boppeter bopper
T'boppeter bip
T'boppeter bip
T'boppeter boppeter bopper

(The bips can be bippers, but it's more difficult to keep the rhythm smooth if you take the bipper option.)

There's also the question of subject matter. Wiki has this to say...


Gershon Legman, who compiled the largest and most scholarly anthology, held that the true limerick as a folk form is always obscene, and cites similar opinions by Arnold Bennett and George Bernard Shaw, describing the clean limerick as a periodic fad and object of magazine contests, rarely rising above mediocrity. From a folkloric point of view, the form is essentially transgressive; violation of taboo is part of its function.


Magazine contests, huh? Well, I do tend to Legman's view that a limerick should be, if not obscene, certainly risqué - which is not easy to do. However, the censor software on this forum notwithstanding, I say, "Contestant, if you got dirty down, get down and dirty."

Here, for instance, is a limerick I penned this morning, to get us all in the mood...

There once was a ******** from ******
Who ****** with a ****** up her ******
When she ******** in a ******
It was ****** ** *******
And her **** ****** sticky and ********

If you plan on writing this kind of limerick, I suggest mailing it to me as well as posting it here.

Deadline: October 26th. Good luck.

Rose and Billy

There once was a lady named Rose,
Very nice from her head to her toes.
Billy's dreams weren't that pure.
Rose don't mind. She is sure
He won't mind if some more of her shows.

*$#@ *@#

The cacophony of voices, pleading, begging…
Bugger off, I say before I @!# ^%&* &*(^ing
Do to you what I would…
Erm…I mean what I should
Have done to you you *(&^%(% ^%$&ing…

The once was a man of such fame
That all knew his wealth and his name
Death came to call
In the end, after all
Worm food is all he remains

in a far away town called seville
lived a man called neville
he did not care for dreads
nor did not speak in swears
but the one thing he dwelled
was his crown and his tan

this is long over due.
Judges anywhere?

For hitting the metre and going against the usual limerick subject matter, the winner is Pendragon.