But never mind! I've been through a strange phase and come out on the other side. A clearer form of the book has come to me; it will be in three parts and themed. This is something Biz has often mentioned, especially with regard to historical poems. Dark Star agrees too, so all is well ^_^
I'll try to catch up on the thread more next time ;-)
Until then I salute the DSPS. The Digital Spy Poets Society
Frank/Noe Soap
John/Archiver
Sandy
Flower
Mrsgotobed
Twass & MrsT
Dark Star
Biz
Nimue of Avalon xxx
[There's a creature in the sky.
I don't know where, or why,
Oh wow, you truly are the Steven Speilberg of this thread John Brilliant poem, with a sense of foreboding running throughout. I love how you never really explain everything - it suits the sci-fi/universal nature of the material. What with the recently disappeared plane, this resonated deeply. Great write
Hi Biz The idea's changed again, it looks like a book for children is going to emerge soon. I know this is something you've often mentioned. The good news is, at around fifty poems, it should be out in the near future. It'll be a superior production to The Designer, bless its little cotton sunsets :kitty:
Tom was not inordinately fussy
But he was not subordinately
Obliging like every other pussy
Tom drew the line at KiteKat
Cheapest cat food and nasty
It looked disgusting not tasty
Tom'd rather devour your pasty
Or any leftovers best unwasted
Mishmash KeK he left untasted
(a trueish story from cat owner past only cat's name changed to protect the innocent)
Hi Biz The idea's changed again, it looks like a book for children is going to emerge soon. I know this is something you've often mentioned. The good news is, at around fifty poems, it should be out in the near future. It'll be a superior production to The Designer, bless its little cotton sunsets :kitty:
I like that idea. Presumably you'll start with the poems for the younger children? Have you thought of having them in slightly larger, simple print, reverting to a more normal size for the older ones?
:kitty: :kitty: :kitty: :kitty: Cats, cats, cats, cats - they're everywhere. I can't get away from them.
That has inspired me, but it's not ready yet. In the meantime:
Big Smalls (temporary title)
I’ve washed out all the skidmarks and the socks that smell of cheese
Now all that’s left is while he sleeps, to spray him with Febreeze.
The next day if the laundry’s blowing gaily on the line
It’s a signal to him now home from work, he’s in for a good time.
My tumble drying friends are worried, it’s my pants that make them blush
But the sight of them a-swinging makes my fella turn to mush.
“Don’t you mind your pants a-swinging there, they’re practically antiques?”
“No,” I say, “They’re so immense; folks mistake them for my sheets.”
So when you’re feeling frisky and life needs a bit of spice
Get your swingers on the line, washed and ready to entice.
Just make sure you peg them down to keep them safe and sound
Mine have blown across to France before, but luckily were found
The fella that they landed on was shocked and quite surprised
I believe he is still suffering and still rather traumatised.
Apparently he’d never seen big swingers of that kind
He was found repeating, "Mon Dieu, I ‘av gone blind!”
So now I am more vigilant, I don’t want them to escape
I can’t have them enveloping some poor monsieur and his crepe.
Oh wow, you truly are the Steven Speilberg of this thread John Brilliant poem, with a sense of foreboding running throughout. I love how you never really explain everything - it suits the sci-fi/universal nature of the material. What with the recently disappeared plane, this resonated deeply. Great write
A Stephen King title too
Thank you for your comments Musty. It was inspired by some talk of The Overview Effect, as experienced by astronauts who've looked down on our little planet from a great height, somewhere in the current extremely long 'religion' thread. I posted a link there, of course, and belly button liked it and thought you'd like it too.
I wasn't expecting the last line, but it just had to go in. ;-)
That has inspired me, but it's not ready yet. In the meantime:
Big Smalls (temporary title)
I’ve washed out all the skidmarks and the socks that smell of cheese
Now all that’s left is while he sleeps, to spray him with Febreeze.
The next day if the laundry’s blowing gaily on the line
It’s a signal to him now home from work, he’s in for a good time.
My tumble drying friends are worried, it’s my pants that make them blush
But the sight of them a-swinging makes my fella turn to mush.
“Don’t you mind your pants a-swinging there, they’re practically antiques?”
“No,” I say, “They’re so immense; folks mistake them for my sheets.”
So when you’re feeling frisky and life needs a bit of spice
Get your swingers on the line, washed and ready to entice.
Just make sure you peg them down to keep them safe and sound
Mine have blown across to France before, but luckily were found
The fella that they landed on was shocked and quite surprised
I believe he is still suffering and still rather traumatised.
Apparently he’d never seen big swingers of that kind
He was found repeating, "Mon Dieu, I ‘av gone blind!”
So now I am more vigilant, I don’t want them to escape
I can’t have them enveloping some poor monsieur and his crepe.
My knickers held up for the longest of time,
swung weekly billowing on my washing line.
Alas last week
a blush hit my cheek
when they gave up the ghost
and my bum that they host
was left chilly
and me feeling silly.
Knicker elastic
ain't that fantastic
and droopy drawers
have their flaws!
My knickers held up for the longest of time,
swung weekly billowing on my washing line.
Alas last week
a blush hit my cheek
when they gave up the ghost
and my bum that they host
was left chilly
and me feeling silly.
Knicker elastic
ain't that fantastic
and droopy drawers
have their flaws!
Haha! Very funny, I am going to get a reputation for having a thing for thongs and knickers if I don't change the subject matter......but then maybe we both will.;-)
Been introduced recently to the poetry form known as triolet. This is an eight line stanza written in iambic pentameter and with a rhyme scheme of a b a a a b a b.
The first line reappears at lines 4 and 7, the second line is repeated in line 8.
Well I think it can be really good to work within a very tight structure as it means the writer has to think very carefully about each word and how the structure should come second to what is being conveyed. For me, poetry is a condensed form of language that doesn't just carry it's meaning in the words but also in what it can evoke through rhythm, rhyme, imagery etc etc.
Anyway, here's a couple of my attempts using the form.
The autumn winds carry flakes of brown and gold,
the cold of the coming season’s deathly sleep.
A slow fall from what we most savagely hold.
The autumn winds carry flakes of brown and gold
swirling to shades of bone that can no longer hold
the nascent force that raised us up from sleep.
The autumn winds carry flakes of brown and gold,
the cold of the coming season’s deathly sleep.
The Cat Sat on the Mat
With feline stealth he moved towards the mat
upon which he pawsed to groom his tangled fur.
With soft strokes of his barbed tongue his coat began to unmat.
With feline stealth he moved towards the mat
Then, with kneading motion, he clawed and pulled then sat
and settled into quiet repose and contented purr.
With feline stealth he moved towards the mat
upon which he pawsed to groom his tangled fur.
Daffodils honour us with their diaphinous emerging,
familiar old friends, it’s welcome yellow fellows well
met. We greet you gratefully from your submerging
floral heads mutate, from green bud to golden bell.
Nature, benefactor of all provision, gifts indulgence
plays host to these visitors for sadly too brief a stay
endows bright vistas which radiate in rare effulgence
springing in Spring this seasonal and annual display.
Daffodils grow row on row hereabout and all around
a host of them as Wordsworth’s great poem extolled;
flowers that proliferate and thrive upon waste ground
gilding the darkest spaces by their alchemy into gold.
Like gold a noble daffodil yields a treasure for the eye,
an array of optical pleasure then doffs its cap goodbye.
I haven't been around, as I've had a sort of minor nervous breakdown
I came out on the other side again, but it was horrible while it lasted. I'll be seeing the doctor in early April and the good news is I'm on the road to recovery now.
It's great to see the thread rocking and I hope to catch up through the week. Within the next month I'll be buying a new computer
I've skimmed the latest poems and they're all great I'll come to the library early tomorrow and read them properly
Welcome to the thread Finisher :kitty: Don't be discouraged by the lack of feedback, someone always responds eventually! I'll read your ode tomorrow too - I hope you stick around and post again
Comments
I shouldn't feel to clever. Her line was "Let me count the ways"...Lovely poem.
Frank
Thank you Frank, you're very kind. I'm relieved to say that your guess is correct, I would have got that one right.
So sorry that I haven't been around much of late
But never mind! I've been through a strange phase and come out on the other side. A clearer form of the book has come to me; it will be in three parts and themed. This is something Biz has often mentioned, especially with regard to historical poems. Dark Star agrees too, so all is well ^_^
I'll try to catch up on the thread more next time ;-)
Until then I salute the DSPS. The Digital Spy Poets Society
Frank/Noe Soap
John/Archiver
Sandy
Flower
Mrsgotobed
Twass & MrsT
Dark Star
Biz
Nimue of Avalon xxx
All new members are most welcome :kitty:
Hello!
Biz, co-opted member of DSPS.
A Stephen King title too
And why not Twass?
But he was not subordinately
Obliging like every other pussy
Tom drew the line at KiteKat
Cheapest cat food and nasty
It looked disgusting not tasty
Tom'd rather devour your pasty
Or any leftovers best unwasted
Mishmash KeK he left untasted
(a trueish story from cat owner past only cat's name changed to protect the innocent)
I like that idea.
:kitty: :kitty: :kitty: :kitty: Cats, cats, cats, cats - they're everywhere. I can't get away from them.
How very thoughtful of you Frank.
That's good, you are moving forward as spring emerges like the daffodils.:D
He certainly pops up often enough.
That has inspired me, but it's not ready yet. In the meantime:
Big Smalls (temporary title)
I’ve washed out all the skidmarks and the socks that smell of cheese
Now all that’s left is while he sleeps, to spray him with Febreeze.
The next day if the laundry’s blowing gaily on the line
It’s a signal to him now home from work, he’s in for a good time.
My tumble drying friends are worried, it’s my pants that make them blush
But the sight of them a-swinging makes my fella turn to mush.
“Don’t you mind your pants a-swinging there, they’re practically antiques?”
“No,” I say, “They’re so immense; folks mistake them for my sheets.”
So when you’re feeling frisky and life needs a bit of spice
Get your swingers on the line, washed and ready to entice.
Just make sure you peg them down to keep them safe and sound
Mine have blown across to France before, but luckily were found
The fella that they landed on was shocked and quite surprised
I believe he is still suffering and still rather traumatised.
Apparently he’d never seen big swingers of that kind
He was found repeating, "Mon Dieu, I ‘av gone blind!”
So now I am more vigilant, I don’t want them to escape
I can’t have them enveloping some poor monsieur and his crepe.
I'm loving your sense of humour MRSgoto................and your French accent.
I wasn't expecting the last line, but it just had to go in. ;-)
My knickers held up for the longest of time,
swung weekly billowing on my washing line.
Alas last week
a blush hit my cheek
when they gave up the ghost
and my bum that they host
was left chilly
and me feeling silly.
Knicker elastic
ain't that fantastic
and droopy drawers
have their flaws!
Haha! Very funny, I am going to get a reputation for having a thing for thongs and knickers if I don't change the subject matter......but then maybe we both will.;-)
The first line reappears at lines 4 and 7, the second line is repeated in line 8.
You can read more here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triolet
You may ask 'what's the point?'
Well I think it can be really good to work within a very tight structure as it means the writer has to think very carefully about each word and how the structure should come second to what is being conveyed. For me, poetry is a condensed form of language that doesn't just carry it's meaning in the words but also in what it can evoke through rhythm, rhyme, imagery etc etc.
Anyway, here's a couple of my attempts using the form.
The autumn winds carry flakes of brown and gold,
the cold of the coming season’s deathly sleep.
A slow fall from what we most savagely hold.
The autumn winds carry flakes of brown and gold
swirling to shades of bone that can no longer hold
the nascent force that raised us up from sleep.
The autumn winds carry flakes of brown and gold,
the cold of the coming season’s deathly sleep.
The Cat Sat on the Mat
With feline stealth he moved towards the mat
upon which he pawsed to groom his tangled fur.
With soft strokes of his barbed tongue his coat began to unmat.
With feline stealth he moved towards the mat
Then, with kneading motion, he clawed and pulled then sat
and settled into quiet repose and contented purr.
With feline stealth he moved towards the mat
upon which he pawsed to groom his tangled fur.
bathed in seas of melancholy
in desolate decay doth stray
upon the autumn of my folly.
I think I must have wrote this when I was a bit pissed off
Ways
Chuckle to me, chuckle to you
little ways, always shine thru
with a hello, as we walk by
and moments, are so much my.
Daffodils honour us with their diaphinous emerging,
familiar old friends, it’s welcome yellow fellows well
met. We greet you gratefully from your submerging
floral heads mutate, from green bud to golden bell.
Nature, benefactor of all provision, gifts indulgence
plays host to these visitors for sadly too brief a stay
endows bright vistas which radiate in rare effulgence
springing in Spring this seasonal and annual display.
Daffodils grow row on row hereabout and all around
a host of them as Wordsworth’s great poem extolled;
flowers that proliferate and thrive upon waste ground
gilding the darkest spaces by their alchemy into gold.
Like gold a noble daffodil yields a treasure for the eye,
an array of optical pleasure then doffs its cap goodbye.
I haven't been around, as I've had a sort of minor nervous breakdown
I came out on the other side again, but it was horrible while it lasted. I'll be seeing the doctor in early April and the good news is I'm on the road to recovery now.
It's great to see the thread rocking and I hope to catch up through the week. Within the next month I'll be buying a new computer
The book should be out by the end of June :kitty:
Welcome to the thread Finisher :kitty: Don't be discouraged by the lack of feedback, someone always responds eventually! I'll read your ode tomorrow too - I hope you stick around and post again