Good show Book Beauty
Printable View
Good show Book Beauty
Hey, thanks everybody. I really didn't expect to win this one. :)
After thinking about this for 5 minutes, I have a splendid idea, since I've been thinking of this concept quite often lately.
Next up is a phrase/poem from Tao Te Ching, illustrating the concepts of Taoism's 'Wu Wei', which I encourage contestants to familiarize themselves with.
Your assignment is due on June 1st, 2012. Good luck to all who are participating!Quote:
Related translation from the Tao Tê Ching by Priya Hemenway, Chapter II:
2
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
I need more explicit instructions, designed for the Tao-challenged.
What do we have to write and what bit of the thing you quote do we have to include in what we write?
Quote:
Originally Posted by BookBeauty
It's very open-ended. Sky's the limit.Quote:
Originally Posted by MarkBastable
I expect you to take the idea, or concept, and make it your own, or you can use any part of the phrase/poem that takes your interest and make it your own. You won't be getting in trouble for thinking outside the box with this one, as that's the point. :D
Have lots of fun with this one. :)
If it helps to understand, here's a wikipedia link about 'Wu Wei', where I also extracted the poem from:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wu_wei
Claiming Nothing
Claiming nothing, I still lose,
Although I have no heart to win.
I have no heart to even choose
To win or lose. The pains begin
To torment while those taunting smile:
I have been losing all the while.
It doesn't matter I admit.
It's all illusion. Yes, God knows,
But offers few ways out of it:
My execution comes and goes.
I was no sage, I would admit.
Like many I lost all of it.
"Without vision, people perish"
To not have law, is to court anarchy
Without reason, no understanding
With out hope even the strong shall fall
To not have love is loneliness incarnate
Without passion love is dead
To not have death is eternal torture
Without life, purpose ends
To not have faith is to doubt everything
Without darkness light has no value
Without light darkness rules
Without eternity the universe grows dim
Claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose....
Pendragon
(C) 5/21/2012
The Sage is Occupied,
Over-run by philosophy,
Pouring in through breaches,
Sacking the citadel,
Piling the spoils in the market place,
There's treasure in those heaps.
His wife happens by,
And gently Kisses the top of his ear,
Teaching without verbosity,
The worth of his philosophy.
The Sage is an uncommon one
unspoken truths glint
within his unassuming eye,
through the ages he has
been called by many names
but never has been possessed.
A traveler between worlds,
effortlessly he has flown
between life and death,
he has been a creator,
and a destroyer of worlds
seen and unseen.
But even in this
he always teaches
a lesson, yet what knowledge
he imparts, is not for him to decide,
it is for the supplicant to
determine the results.
The sage lays no claims
existing outside of time,
he is, will be, has always been,
and there is nothing to lose.
Just a few days left until the deadline! :)
All In
It’s Baltimore Pete and the Jezzer –
The chips are sliding his way –
Blackhat, and me and the Rube to my right,
When Sage comes over to play.
The Sage is a stranger who lives with a story
That only a soldier could know.
He stacks up his chips, lays an earring on top.
He plays a few low hands real slow.
The beers are cold-fresh and we’re all talking trash
But the Sage ain’t saying too much.
Queens with a King come down for my trips.
I push up the price just a touch.
Blackhat re-raises, and a King hits the street.
Blackhat raises again.
The Sage just goes with - so I tag along
Though I figure the Hat’s got three Men.
The river’s an Ace. Blackhat considers,
Then matches the pot, with a sigh.
I’m out in a rush. Sage smiles like a wound
And he looks the Hat right in the eye.
A rainbow is thrown through the diamond cut
Of the earring that lies on the chips,
And blood-red is lit on the face of the Queen.
Sage touches the ring to his lips.
“The lot,” says the Sage. “A million and change.”
He pushes it into the pile.
Blackhat goes white. “You holding aces?”
The Sage gives his razor-slash smile.
Blackhat is sweating. He’s thinking it through.
That million is sure smelling sweet.
But bullets’d kill him. He chews on a nail.
And then he gets up on his feet.
“Okay – let’s see ‘em,” the Blackhat demands.
The Sage shrugs, shaking his head.
“Junk,” he says. “Nuthin.” He picks up the earring,
And walks out the door like the dead.
“Man’s crazy,” says Jezzer, while Blackhat rakes up.
I gather the cards as they laugh.
But I’m thinking each earring is one of a pair.
I’m thinking a single’s a half.
And I know ‘bout the Sage, coz I knew him back when
And I once saw the twin of that earring.
And I reckon a fella has nothing to lose
When there’s nothing he cares about winning.
“Guy just can't bluff it, I guess,” says the Hat.
“I dug it just scoping his face.”
I check the two cards at the base of the pack.
One’s an Ace. And the other’s an Ace.
Nice Mark!
J
Ah, wow. There were so many amazing entries for this particular contest, that I almost wish I wasn't the judge.
But I am!
So, here I was, thinking, ''Wow. I just love YesNo's clever use of rhyme and rhythm. They're always able to come up with good material.''
And then I was thinking, ''Pendragon, they just never cease to disappoint when they're called to challenge, and really had a grasp of ideas that lent so well to the poem.''
And, ''prendrelemick, such creativity and divergent thoughts and images!''
... ''Oh Dark Muse! Always a story in the verse, such passion and spirit!''
And then a last minute entry flipped the kayak upside down. And it's not easy to flip a kayak, I don't care what anyone says.
MarkBastable, a well deserved poetry victory unto you, for a clever interpretation of the verse, really pushing outside the box, and even managing to make the reader consider the concepts behind the assignment.
And, so, without further ado... You win a chance at judging!
Hooray!
I'd give you a ribbon, or trophy, but you'll have to settle for a virtual one.
Thank you. In fact I don't think the poem's quite there yet. The metre's clunky in a couple of places, and the narrative isn't as satisfyingly resolved as I'd like. But I'm flattered that it was chosen.
Okay - the next one....
I think we've used a line from Prufrock before, but I'd like to suggest this one:
....talking of Michelangelo...
Deadline: June 24th
talking of Michelangelo
don't you think David needs a few more clothes?
under a fig leaf everything shows
talking of Michelangelo...
talking of Michelangelo
why does Moses have those horns, bro?
does a demon inside him grow?
talking of Michelangelo...
talking of Michelangelo
the Sistine Chapel's ceiling glows
did you get cramps in your back or vertigo?
talking of Michelangelo...
talking of Michelangelo
your Pietà makes the tears flow
think how He died for us you know
talking of Michelangelo...
talking of Michelangelo
you worked on St Peter's Basilica in Rome
we have you to thank for one awesome dome
talking of Michelangelo...
talking of Michelangelo
most magnificent of artists everyone knows
wonder what he would think of art nouveau?
talking of Michelangelo...
talking of Michelangelo...
Pendragon
(c) 6/2/2012
Focusing on David
We were talking of Michelangelo.
Janice loved his David so
I bought a T-shirt where the part
She loved the best flashed on my heart.
Only two entries? What gives, poets?
Well bumped.
Because I'm so busy, I won't be looking at this for a coupla days, so I'm going to extend the deadline to Friday, as long as the two entrants so far don't feel cheated by that.
The Gallery
I contemplate over Mona Lisa's smile
and wonder what secret thoughts
she holds within her head,
feeling a since of comradery
I can imagine that she winked at me.
I wonder what my buddy Steve is doing
right now, and where should I have lunch,
there is this new Italian place that just opened
".....talking of Michelangelo.."
the voice suddenly interrupts my thoughts
slamming me back into reality.
I offer her a sheepish smile attempting
to look interested, nodding my head.
"Have you been paying any attention to what I said?"
"So Michelangelo, he is the guy that sculpted David"
I replay and know instantaneously that it was
the wrong answer to give and feel the dread
fall upon me, my smile remains plastered upon me face.
"Really, I do not know why I take you anywhere,
it is completely hopeless, do you ever think of anyone
but yourself......."
a Dali caught my eye and I become lost in the
dream like scape and wander over the swirls of paint,
and suddenly the song "A Horse With No Name"
begins to play in my head,
yeah I know later I am really going to be dead.
talking to michael angelo
I felt there was nothing to blow
the smoke the air was even low
the words made up covered the flow
and sentences went up to rows
filling the silence with a throw
talking to michale angelo
was never meant to be a show
about the mundane tasks of growth
far from it it was a pro
about the emptiness of simple foes
that made a noise and went out broke
talking to michael angelo
was much ado about a co
to plot against the rich and so
but deminised itself as though
it compromsied those in the know
and ended tarnished out of dough
talking to michael angelo
was in the end a symbol round
to those who tried to wrig a bound
but got themselves caught in a frown
this is reminder from acts and crown
to not climb hither those heights again
I've been nudged by cacian's entry to get back to this. I shall consider and return with a verdict today.
I really like YesNo's, for its simplicity and wryness. But, as a fan of the understated moment captured, I'm going to plump for DarkMuse's contribution.
Thank you! It was fun writing. At first I had no idea what I was going to do with the line, but then I just began to spin this idea.
Congrats once more, DarkMuse! :crazy:
Thank you!
Ok your next line is:
Between the dark and the daylight
From The Children's Hour ~ Henry Wadworth Longfellow
Between the dark and the daylight
Beneath clouds swiftly moving east
Before the full moon rises in her splendor
Beware the fearsome beast!
Between sleep and waking solitude
Believe the shadows whispering, beckoning
Behave lest the shambling ones awake
Bespeaking the day of dreadful reckoning
Being sure to check the depths of closet
Beneath the bed, look left, look right!
Behind the bookshelf lurks what comes
Between the dark and the daylight...
Pendragon
(C) 7/23/2012
Strange Dreams Dawning
Between the darkness and the daylight
They suffered and they grew.
From April into May's light
Half-conscious dreams came true.
between the dark and the daylight
awoke a light out of the sunrise
it looked abrupt but slightely edgewayed
it sensed a breeze from outer somewhere
which made it smile thousands of highwaves
between the dark and the daylight
reached out a star from upper moonlight
it looked as if brittled but upright
it danced around the skies of midgnight
and flew right out to space and skilight
All very excelent poems.
YesNo: I am not sure I entirely understand this poem, but I did enjoy reading it. A lot is conveyed in just a few lines and I like the somewhat haunting feeling about it. I loved the last line.
cacian: Some wonderful imagery within your poem. I enjoyed you use of rhyme. I loved this line "awoke a light out of the sunrise" and thought it was a very good pairing with the chosen quote for this challenge. It makes it fit so naturally into the poem. I always really enjoyed "it looked abrupt but slightely edgewayed"
and the winner is
Pendragon: I loved this. Great imagery, and I liked the cleverness of starting which line with a word which begins with "be" also very much enjoyed the dark atmosphere of the poem. Bringing the last line back to the first gave the poem a nice rounded feeling and I like the way in which it gives the feeling that the poem could just keep repeating itself.
Dark Muse thank you again very much for the feedback and congratulations Pendragon:hurray:
Thank you! Let's see: hummmmm...
From Emily Dickinson:
"Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me"
Good luck! :leaving:
Haha I misread that as
''Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped me":aureola:
Death at the Cafe
I found myself before
the frozen coffee shop
where everything
held still, and even time
had come to a meaningless end,
the clock gave way not even one
lonely tock amid the silence,
where halted conversation
hovered thick in the air,
expressions poised and ready
upon faces now fixed,
it was a world within a world.
I saw him sitting there
a wayward grin upon his lips,
ironically now he appeared
the most living thing in the room,
while he gestured for me to take
a seat, because I could not stop for Death
he kindly stopped for me,
and so we sipped our frappe,
playing checkers and catching up
on days long begone.
He is my oldest friend
and yet so often neglected,
but ever he takes it in stride
for in the end he always gets his due,
and so when life begins to move too fast
he needs but a twitch and a wink
to bring the clocks to a stand still
and watch time fall upon its knees,
he never forgets a face
nor for that matter a name,
and he always foots the bill.
Soon enough he will push play
and the world will spin back
into axis, and again I will be upon my way,
but I can still hear him laughing,
jovially while he bids me good day,
for it is inevitably so that will
meet again.
Because I Could Not Stop For Death
Because I could not stop for death
He kindly stopped for me.
He took the reins held by my hands
And set my spirit free.
It's then I knew the wonder of
The part I had to play,
And felt the welcome, home again,
To an eternal day.
As I dream of time gone by.
The scarlet dawn which I see in the distance but yet before my eyes.
The mist that worm it way over me, within this shallow heaven.
The damp that reach out to comfort in me.
As I dream of time gone by.
The silence is nightmare to me.
With serene lush of ruby sea before me.
As I dream of time gone by.
''Because I Could Not Stop For Death,he kindly stopped for me"
Pendragon? anyone home?
Home? No. Still on vacation!
As I repeat, ad infinitum, my laptop was stolen. Sorry for the delays
Dark Muse: Dark subjects are definitely you forte!
YesNo: Death as a friend! Nice!
Zoolane: Sleep is often called "The Brother of Death" I liked the dream sequences
And ZOOLANE is the winnah!
Thank you Pen, I am sorry to hear about your laptop, I am sorry if I seem impatience.
hmm let see?
The Dark Hills by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Dark hills at evening in the west,
Where sunset hovers like a sound
Of golden horns that sang to rest
Old bones of warriors under ground,
Far now from all the bannered ways
Where flash the legions of the sun,
You fade--as if the last of days
Were fading, and all wars were done.
Quote is: Old bones of warriors under ground,
I will see if how many entries we get in week,