Poetry Contest

[Petrarch's Love]

All this talk of hidden Ninas has put me in a playful mood, so I had a little fun with this one with a little hidden "art". Great pic. to write on.

"Telling the Dancer from the Dance"

Drawn to the barre like birds to fruited branch,
Alighting with detailed poise and skill,
Nodding, swaying gently as they start the dance,
Controlling every move with focused will
Every muscle tautened into grace until
Limbs turn to lines and color streams from sweat:
Instant metamorphosis when lungs fill,
Veins course and flesh fulfills its debt,
Inspiring the spirit to forget
Nagging sins and fears that it is heir to.
Glowing more bright than eye can see they let
All themselves be transformed and created new.
Routinely, while in quiet practice they devote their hours
The air around them bursts, and moves, and changes with their power.

[ktd222]

"Telling the Dancer from the Dance"

This is a line from a Yeats poem, right Petrarch?

[Pendragon]

....i cant see it.

Most obvious one, focus on the center singer's skirt.






The others are hard, I have seen many of these drawings and know where Al usually hides them, but you might not see them without a real good magnifying glass and some imagination.

[Petrarch's Love]

This is a line from a Yeats poem, right Petrarch?

Yes, it's a shameless paraphrase alluding to the final line of "Among Schoolchildren." Yeats' much finer line is "How can you tell the dancer from the dance" and the complete poem isn't here on Lit. Net, but can be found here: http://www.web-books.com/Classics/Po...eats/Among.htm.

[Dante Wodehouse]

Sonnet by Wodehouse

As the pentangle fades the saints stir souls
Their knee-joints be cufféd, no more to move
Their crowns unfast'ned, invaded by shame
Yet, they dance, life, to them be still the same.

The shackle no more a hurt to the pride
Than humility inflicted by the breast-plate.
As the first light shone Godly, so the saints
In this new light appear to us, the saved.

Accoutered so bravely, they catch the soul's eye,
And in this new inspection they stand firm
Calling their audience like a **** for the sun
'Out come ye, up and rise, strike at the dark!'

Called at by them, the souls up and do rise,
With intent of ill's premature demise.
Their faith leads them, as holy words,
Faith, they are lead, these artificial birds.

This is for the dancing saints picture. I always like, if I can, to throw an unexpected little anticlimax in the end.

[Adolescent09]

I wrote about them as dancing saints as well but took a geometrical side to my stanzas. I don't know what the **** word is for sure but if it is the "S" word or the "F" word (or any other four letter crude/curse word for that matter) it really undermines the poem's overall quality..

[Pendragon]

Wodehouse, it’s a very nice, vibrant poem, but no sonnet. It has the wrong rhyme scheme and number of lines. 'Dole, I believe the **** is for another name for a rooster, which is not vulgar used that way, but still gets blanked out. Happened to me once when I wrote something on preparing a gun for firing, so I remember! That line would be

"Calling their audience like a rooster for the sun" in other words.

Call him "Chanticleer" perhaps next time, Wode?

[Dante Wodehouse]

Thanks for the advice. Yes, the word means rooster, but rooster has two syllables, which overides my poem scheme, and is less poetic than the word which I used (I believe shakespeare would have liked it more). I called it sonnet because I wanted to do the 16-lines in iambic pentameter with a rhyming couplet, which is a lot longer of phrase than sonnet, so for succinctness, I said sonnet.

[Pendragon]

Thanks for the advice. Yes, the word means rooster, but rooster has two syllables, which overides my poem scheme, and is less poetic than the word which I used (I believe shakespeare would have liked it more). I called it sonnet because I wanted to do the 16-lines in iambic pentameter with a rhyming couplet, which is a lot longer of phrase than sonnet, so for succinctness, I said sonnet.

As I said it is a very vibrant, solid poem. After a re-reading, yes, I like your sticking to your iambic pentameter. It's something I have never really accomplished, is sticking to a precise meter, even in my song writing. It will vary by a bit one way or the other. Don't you hate the way that very poetic word gets blanked out because people misuse it? It's hard on mystery writers to post a story, because you have to invent new ways to say something like this: "Adams jammed his gat to the moll's skull and and thumbed back the hammer. "Make wit th' dough or it's curtains for youse, sweetheart. And shut yer yap!" since you cannot use the other word.

[autolycus]

What, now I have to cope with missing words in poems too? Not only acrostic sonnets but le coq sportif en la quatraine as well? Oops, I am getting a bit translingual here (or is that a banned word too?)

Keep the poems coming. Hmm, I don't see a judgement emerging before April 6 at this rate...

[Virgil]

Picture:

OK here's my entry:

Three Sisters At The Dance

Triple meter unset,
Melody rounds roulette
They turn to pirouette.

Three sisters at the dance
Stop their legs in coy stance
Eyes balk with girlish glance.

Synch in legs, arms and feet
Pitch and hurl to the beat
Fold midriff to a pleat.

Balance, poise, ballet springs,
Mother glares in the wings
Violins sway in swings.

Sister one spins on toes,
Sister two roughly flows,
Sister three down she goes.

To the left arms in crown
To the right swirls the gown,
Butterflies, faces frown.

Giselles cross, interlink
Leotards in faint pink,
Peering eyes cannot think.

Nocturne composes the air,
Applauses from everywhere,
Stirs eyelashes and hair.

Apart in Balanchine space
En Pointe spin into place,
Ankles glissade with grace.

Attenuation sways
Lights in inverse square phase,
Patrons, parents in praise.

Rapid theme swells the breast
Keeps ballerinas pressed,
Cadence refuses to rest.

Staccato in triplet
In accompaniment,
They turn to pirouette.

[Adolescent09]

"Triple meter unset,
Melody rounds roulette
They turn to pirouette.

Three sisters at the dance
Stop their legs in coy stance
Eyes balk with girlish glance.

Synch in legs, arms and feet
Pitch and hurl to the beat
Fold midriff to a pleat.

Balance, poise, ballet springs,
Mother glares in the wings
Violins sway in swings.

Sister one spins on toes,
Sister two roughly flows,
Sister three down she goes."

This first part of your poem sounds so similar to the style i've inherited in my recent poetic works. It's using short stanzas and repetition of words such as "sister" but conveying points of very strong imagery. Isn't it so effective? I like it! Keep it up

[Virgil]

Thank you, kindly Aolescent. I think it gave this poem a nice feel.

[Orionsbelt]

Well here goes... this one was fun.



Immersed in a sea of silver blue harmony
Schools of white notes swarm in pastel chord
Currents of color turn symphonious whirlpools
White waves splash cross a sandy sound board

Ride the grey back of the tuba phone tortoise
Hop the bright fin as the angel fish prance
Blue fish staccato then red porpoise allegro
Shadows of manta rays three in a dance

Orange brass ensemble vibrate yellow amoroso
Bright red pitches swirl round the dark green refrain
A dark minor scale fish lead light major dolphins
Stepping the time of the rainbow quatrain

Swim with musical mermaids
Drift river lyric to chromatic sea
Join the ballet of color and music
Rest three beats caper the colorless lee

[ktd222]

It's amazing how certain individual's poetry writing skills are getting better each round. I guess practice does make perfect.