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Is Poetry a Dead Art? (Part 3) |
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#251 |
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Join Date: Apr 2002
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Quote:
Cape Jealous
© Marvelous story like poem Musty. Incidentally, how is the compiling going?
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#252 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
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Quote:
The lipstick on his collar in Cape Jealous reminded me of the Connie Francis song. Took me way back that did. Thanks. Another great write.
![]() I thought of the same song by Connie Francis as I wrote that verse - I nearly ditched the line about lipstick, but then I thought it suited the film noir atmosphere of the poem. The title came from Cape Fear, the old thriller starring Gregory Peck and Robert Mitchum.Quote:
Incidentally, how is the compiling going?
All of the second Poetry thread is now in a file. It's been a hectic year for me so far and that's severely slowed down the collecting and sifting process. Deciding what poems should qualify for the next stage beyond forums is still a major aim this year.
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#253 |
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Join Date: Dec 2004
Location: Closed
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Way to find.
The old imposter in my shoes, with empty pockets full of clues, treads the paths I know so well. What he mumbles none can tell. The colour drained from face and hair. The old - stained coat I wear. A poet? Nah. It's just old ****. Won't be long before he's gone. Past squeaking swings where children played. Reeking of some stuff I sprayed to kill the god awful smell of having one foot in hell. Soon; outskirts of this bleak compound, give way to a sweeter sound and squirrels watch me in sweet bliss. Sure could get used to this. Beyond all human eyes at last. He fumbles for his secret cast and climbs up to the highest place and calls to those in outer space. Again, again, but not a word was understood or even heard by any creature near or far. Except, near one distant star; through special needs and quantum tech. his secret deeds gained some respect and this day, for his peace of mind, they made a way for me to find. |
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#254 |
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Join Date: Mar 2009
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Quote:
Way to find.
The old imposter in my shoes, with empty pockets full of clues, treads the paths I know so well. What he mumbles none can tell. .
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#255 |
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Quote:
Way to find.
Hi BB
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#256 |
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love match
Not much rhymes with 'love' Save of course for glove, Not forgetting shove, While from birds above Some poets choose dove But it's a pity bruv That not much rhymes with love. © |
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#257 |
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Hi Musty , hope all is well
![]() Hope you don't mind this little contribution, but they do say to copy is the sincerest form of flattery ![]() Not much rhymes with 'kiss', Save of course for miss, Not forgetting hiss, While from memories we reminisce Some poets are amiss But it's a pity sis That not much rhymes with kiss. x |
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#258 |
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Quote:
Hi Musty , hope all is well
![]() Hope you don't mind this little contribution, but they do say to copy is the sincerest form of flattery ![]() Some poets are amiss But it's a pity sis That not much rhymes with kiss. x That's a great ricochet off of my poem I've always noticed how often the Romantics used dove and above to rhyme with love, and found that there were few alternatives. 'Bruv' was a bit of a cheat
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#259 |
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Join Date: Nov 2004
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We know a girl called Umbilicus,
Who sometimes pops in to see us. She's good with a rhyme, Does it all of the time, In a thread on the forum quite near us. |
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#260 |
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Quote:
We know a girl called Umbilicus,
Who sometimes pops in to see us. She's good with a rhyme, Does it all of the time, In a thread on the forum quite near us. ![]() Umbilicus makes me sound so much more classy ![]() I must say, I think that is the best poem ever written !
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#261 |
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Quote:
![]() Umbilicus makes me sound so much more classy ![]() I must say, I think that is the best poem ever written ! ![]()
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#262 |
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Quote:
I know you will treasure it for the rest of your life.
![]() Well contributed Biz I have two poems on the go and they need a lot of help from the research centre here. One's fictional but I often like to embellish those with facts and that's what's holding me up with both of them.
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#263 |
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Quote:
So shall I
Well contributed Biz ![]() ![]() Quote:
I have two poems on the go and they need a lot of help from the research centre here. One's fictional but I often like to embellish those with facts and that's what's holding me up with both of them.
They'll be worth waiting for.
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#264 |
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Discovering Europa
Ten thousand years from now, don't think it strange, The world moved on and had to rearrange But scientific dreamers never change. When cracks revealed how rising waters froze On one far satellite ambitions rose, Professors met to plan, scheme and suppose. Europa was the small globe and their prey, The second moon of Jupiter, some way Between Io and Ganymede it lay. In time a great ship manned by astronauts At speed beyond today's passed certain ports Like Mars which filled their minds with magic thoughts. At last the gassy giant loomed ahead, Enormous with that swirling storm of red, King Jupiter, immense, divine and dead. They honed in on Europa set to land, Few craters on an eerie, pinkish bland Scarred world where our audacious bid was planned. Below the freezing crust there flowed a sea And what it held could solve a mystery: Had life evolved in tides of destiny? A massive drill with specialist advice Was driven down through six cold miles of ice Until a pod was sent from the device. What years of effort this great mission took, When Houston gave the news back home Earth shook, They broke the mould, they threw away the book. Meanwhile back in their pod the crew pierced gloom, Bright lasers and trained cameras moved to zoom On unknown deeps with wonders to consume. Yet as they searched for life with earthly light Inhabitants who'd watched and feared the might Of aliens like us came into sight. Gill-men and then gill-women smashed the glass To drown the crew, a different race and class That vowed to never let intruders pass. The pod sank while Europa's old sea churned, The team above lost contact and returned, While some remarked how experts never learned. © |
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#265 |
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Quote:
Discovering Europa
Ten thousand years from now, don't think it strange, The world moved on and had to rearrange But scientific dreamers never change. ............................................................................... ............................................................................... The pod sank while Europa's old sea churned, The team above lost contact and returned, While some remarked how experts never learned. © ![]()
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#266 |
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Wow! You have taken a leap into the future......but not to worry, you'll be in the idyllic setting of Poets' Corner in Heaven contemplating the universe and nodding sagely at man's eternal incompetence and thinking how much better things would be if they had just listened to you.
![]() ![]() A book on the planets was invaluable when it came to writing this one
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#267 |
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The Storming of the Bastille, July 14th 1783
The storming of the Bastille, When revolutions leak True rage, a mob that has steel Demands the right to speak. The Bastille's reputation For cruelty would provide The great exaggeration Of what went on inside. In fact, each mighty tower And eighty-foot high wall Despite imposing power Hid no abuse at all. The awful dungeons rumoured Weren't used and torture pains Kept French romantics humoured, No wretches lay in chains. The number of those caged there Was rarely more than ten, No state hostages aged there, Just well-looked after men. Proposed for demolition, The gaol caused such expense That planning proposition Made good financial sense. And on the day caught in fate's Grasp people didn't know How only seven inmates Were guests of their rich foe. They stormed it, crowds moved nimble, With moat and drawbridge crossed The Bastille was a symbol Of every freedom lost. © |
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#268 |
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Join Date: Apr 2002
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Quote:
The Storming of the Bastille, July 14th 1783
© Exquisite write Musty as was 'Europa'. Your well of subjects knows no depths.
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#269 |
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Quote:
Exquisite write Musty as was 'Europa'.
Your well of subjects knows no depths. This world and others are far too fascinating to overlook.
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#270 |
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Quote:
The Storming of the Bastille, July 14th 1783
© Quote:
Exquisite write Musty as was 'Europa'.
Your well of subjects knows no depths. ![]() Quote:
Ta Troy
This world and others are far too fascinating to overlook. If there's any justice in the world some of his poems will end up in schools.
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#271 |
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You know Troy, Musty is living proof that education doesn't end with school, and now he's educating the rest of us. Wonderful!
If there's any justice in the world some of his poems will end up in schools.![]()
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#272 |
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Quote:
You know Troy, Musty is living proof that education doesn't end with school, and now he's educating the rest of us. Wonderful!
If there's any justice in the world some of his poems will end up in schools.Hi Biz, I find that what Musty achieves with me is to illuminate a subject rather than educate me. I know a great deal about many of the topics that he writes on, such as historical events/figures, 60s music etc and I love the fact that he and I seem to have common interests. As well as his poetry being exceptionally well written I know that I have a more than evens chance of liking the subject before I read it. That said, there are occasions when I find something new to me such as the Wanderor poem from the painting by Caspar David Friedrich. I rapidly saved that picture to my PC after reading Musty's poem.
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#273 |
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Join Date: May 2006
Posts: 1,310
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Jazz Revival
(this - a revival of an old one written at the time, as floods are a fear again)
Sweet music may be absent From two historic streets, But New Orleans will resound again With its old euphoric beats. No rhythm no horns No cats there to swing The silence mourns As death bells ring Quiet the clubs and hang-outs Where aficianados did their thing. New Orleans was hit by Nature At her unmotherly deadly worst Her city defences could not endure When her levees sadly burst Now this home of jazz Needs her longest take five Pazazz she still has And her soul will revive. In two streets of renown Known as Basin and Bourbon They'll be painting the town And live jazz will reverb on (Frank) |
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#274 |
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Join Date: Mar 2009
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Survival of the Powerful
Push on, push on said the rat in the race, Must make more profit, must pick up the pace. Keep cutting corners, don't fill in the cracks, Leave them to widen, we'll fill them with tax. Pull out the 'weeds' and leave them to rot, Fatten the hybrids and don't give a jot, That soon all the average will turn into weeds, It won't help their status despite their good deeds. In fact all that matters in a world based on greed, Is who makes the most in this power stampede. |
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#275 |
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* bumps thread on to next page *
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That's a great ricochet off of my poem
Well contributed Biz 