Prompt...image 'Shotgun Blast' by Shane Gorski chosen by Andre Tan.
Every poem written to this prompt and submitted to RWP this week will earn a food donation
for the charity 'Hopelink'
This is my first religious poem and I'm dedicating it to Paul Oakley who writes religious poems and has a vast knowledge of biblical studies and theology.
Camels and Needles
A stale peace
tinged with sadness permeates
this deserted sanctuary
with graffiti reminiscent
of frescoes in a chapel
A sunray beams through an arch
gold ostensorium in the tabernacle
blessing the rubbled rubbish
home to the rejected alienated
the losers and for many just
one missed pay cheque away
And did those feet in ancient times
walk in the palaces of prelates
or defer to the powerful and
publicised philanthropists
And did those feet
sack workers before Christmas
sink ankle deep into
soft pile carpet
at a charity ball
seize a photo opportunity
with a beggar
or grovel to a slum landlord
made knight of the realm
for tax deductible donations to the needy
Wonderful
charismatic
Counsellor
non conformist
counter culturalist
the Mighty God
a poor jewish child
the Everlasting Father
born homeless to an odd couple
the Prince of Peace
has left his footprints here
Rallentanda
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Read Write Poem 107
Prompt..Image chosen by Andre Tan for RWP 107. Each poem written to the prompt this week will earn a food donation to Charity.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Read Write Poem 106
Xmas Down Under
snow flakes and icy sleet are
foreign to our sun parched souls
cracked with blinding intensity
and ferocious heat
we awake to cicadas
screeching under electric blue sky
burning the ear drums while our
heads reel intoxicated with the heavy scent
of eucalypts and traffic fumes
last shopping days to Xmas
most of us live near a white sandy beach
where our tired dusty thoughts are rinsed
in aqua sea green cooled by a soft breeze
lots of families lunch at the beach on Xmas Day
and if you live on the west coast you might be
lucky enough to see le rayon vert through
salt encrusted eyelashes just as the sun
slips under the horizon
snow flakes and icy sleet are
foreign to our sun parched souls
cracked with blinding intensity
and ferocious heat
we awake to cicadas
screeching under electric blue sky
burning the ear drums while our
heads reel intoxicated with the heavy scent
of eucalypts and traffic fumes
last shopping days to Xmas
most of us live near a white sandy beach
where our tired dusty thoughts are rinsed
in aqua sea green cooled by a soft breeze
lots of families lunch at the beach on Xmas Day
and if you live on the west coast you might be
lucky enough to see le rayon vert through
salt encrusted eyelashes just as the sun
slips under the horizon
Sunday, December 20, 2009
A Xmas Tale for the Big Kiddies
Another Xmas EveWhat are those elves feeding the reindeers
I can't keep cleaning up all this crap
Every year the Santa letters are getting worse
with demands for money and threats if presents
aren't delivered on time
Every year my suit is getting tighter
A few nips of brandy will help me slide into it
Another Xmas Eve away from home
Oh to be cosy tucked up in bed I'm too old for this
A few more nips of brandy and I'll be on my way
It's like a lake around the house with the ice cap melting
Should have worn my rain boots
'OK Prancer Dancer whatever your name is..Move!'
Quite a sprinkling of stars up here tonight
The deers wont like it-always spooks themA few nips of brandy should do the trick
Bloomin' reindeers are going beserk
This is the third time around the pole
We're going around in circles
Another Xmas Eve out in the cold
A few more nips of brandy will warm me up
Bleary eyed Santa looks down at the north sea and
thinks of last summer in Cancun
Lying on white sand covered in coconut oil
Calypso giggling, plaiting his whiskers with beads
playing with his maracas,wearing floral board shorts
without a reindeer in sight
A few more nips of dutch courage is all he needs
to toss the irridescent tinseled gift boxes overboard
and head for the nearest airport
'OK I'm leaving you reindeers in the parking lot
If you get bored feel free to play in the traffic'
Sitting on the plane,destination sun and surf
a few more nips of brandy to calm his shattered nerves
he looks out of the window at the sea
covered in seemingly small coloured icebergs
spotlit by a bright full moon
A little boy seated nearby also looking out says
'Look Mommy, the sea is floating with Xmas presents'
The mother not raising her eyes from her magazine says
'Santa doesn't bring presents to children who tell big whoppers!'
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Read Write Poem 105
Prompt : meteors,hit, moon,abiding,curled,
backs,pierced,moved,safer,pulled,
precious,telephone, neglect,stars,shell
wind,radar,trees
moved by the beauty of a summer's night
she picked up the precious shell
and pressed it to her ear
listening to the wind wail
through the pulled branches from trees
singing psalms of abiding neglect
she marvelled at the curled backs
of the waves so high they almost hit the moon
the sky pierced with stars seemed a better option
a safer place with its meteors and milky way
flying solo under the radar loop
dodging knives and the telephone had appeal
slipping through the cracks so to speak
backs,pierced,moved,safer,pulled,
precious,telephone, neglect,stars,shell
wind,radar,trees
moved by the beauty of a summer's night
she picked up the precious shell
and pressed it to her ear
listening to the wind wail
through the pulled branches from trees
singing psalms of abiding neglect
she marvelled at the curled backs
of the waves so high they almost hit the moon
the sky pierced with stars seemed a better option
a safer place with its meteors and milky way
flying solo under the radar loop
dodging knives and the telephone had appeal
slipping through the cracks so to speak
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Read Write Poem 104
A poem based on Dr. Ruth's 10 point Recipe for a Sex Poem
'All I want for Xmas is a Fridge'
the heat was filthy that night
she tossed and turned
sticking to her sheets
got up and went to the kitchen
lit softly by a street lamp outside
she looked out of the uncurtained window
beads of sweat glistened
about her neck like a
jewelled necklace
her night gown cling wrapped
to her majestic orbs and triumphant mounds
of boadicean granite like a second skin
the old barely functioning fridge
vibrating away in the corner
like a paddle boat steamer
hummed its relentless
rollin' rollin 'rollin'
rollin' rollin' rollin'
providing the ritornello
to Ray's concerto across the road
roy rogering his mrs
at the same time every week
to the 'Rawhide' tune full blast
with added sound effects of
cracking whips and cowboy yelps
helpful hints that came with
the viagra pack
With Frankie Laine ringing in her ears
she opens the fridge door
to get a cool drink
when her eye catches
an odd shape in the dark
at the back
gingerly she pulls it out
and holding the limp
shrivelled radish in
the palm of her hand
sighs wistfully
It was the first time
she had thought of him in years
'All I want for Xmas is a Fridge'
the heat was filthy that night
she tossed and turned
sticking to her sheets
got up and went to the kitchen
lit softly by a street lamp outside
she looked out of the uncurtained window
beads of sweat glistened
about her neck like a
jewelled necklace
her night gown cling wrapped
to her majestic orbs and triumphant mounds
of boadicean granite like a second skin
the old barely functioning fridge
vibrating away in the corner
like a paddle boat steamer
hummed its relentless
rollin' rollin 'rollin'
rollin' rollin' rollin'
providing the ritornello
to Ray's concerto across the road
roy rogering his mrs
at the same time every week
to the 'Rawhide' tune full blast
with added sound effects of
cracking whips and cowboy yelps
helpful hints that came with
the viagra pack
With Frankie Laine ringing in her ears
she opens the fridge door
to get a cool drink
when her eye catches
an odd shape in the dark
at the back
gingerly she pulls it out
and holding the limp
shrivelled radish in
the palm of her hand
sighs wistfully
It was the first time
she had thought of him in years
Friday, December 4, 2009
Dr. Ruth's 10 Point Recipe for a Sex Poem
1. No mention of cars
Cars have been done to death
2. Buttocks must quiver.
Big ones should resemble blancmange
Small firm ones should resemble marble
3. Sound effects to infuse arses with southern charm
( not to be confused with Antipodean charm)
could be whirling water or steamboat whistles
4. Hot weather is always sexy. Use of sweat (must be beads)
or drenched t shirts clinging to rosy pink erect nipples is always good
5. Sea terminology such as the crashing of waves, being sucked out by the current,
the tide coming in, going out, the slight turn of the crest before the waves crashes down
whirling you about in a tumble spin
6. Nude bathing, languid floating with a lot of draped seaweed and slow moving crabs amongst
hot rocks at high noon
7. Watch Italian movie for inspiration 'Travolti da un insolito destino nell'azzurro mare d'agosto'
or anything French. Any words whispered in either of these languages in flagrante delicto
is a plus.
8 Use of food terminology such as shrivelled radish, limp old carrot found at the back of the
fridge, rock melons, ripe mango flesh, sea water oysters or a thick hard zucchini is always
suggestive
9. If you wish to introduce humour use unlikely sex aids such as mortgage application forms,
ear trumpets, French horns and hair nets
10. We are a visually dependent society, so a visit to the dress department is probably in order:
Vicar and tarts, nurse and policeman outfits are passe. Kilts and Miss Piggy outfits are
popular. Also Elvis Presley (but only if you can sing), Gorilla and jungle animals have always
been favourites of mine, in particular the carpet python and the sabre toothed albino rat
WARNING If after administering the above ten points, no response can be discerned in the other party,check for pulse and then call an ambulance.
PS If this is all too much and the reader becomes hot and bothered and decides not to write a sex poem I recommend a nice hot cup of tea, put your feet up and watch the 'Barchester Chronicles'
Cars have been done to death
2. Buttocks must quiver.
Big ones should resemble blancmange
Small firm ones should resemble marble
3. Sound effects to infuse arses with southern charm
( not to be confused with Antipodean charm)
could be whirling water or steamboat whistles
4. Hot weather is always sexy. Use of sweat (must be beads)
or drenched t shirts clinging to rosy pink erect nipples is always good
5. Sea terminology such as the crashing of waves, being sucked out by the current,
the tide coming in, going out, the slight turn of the crest before the waves crashes down
whirling you about in a tumble spin
6. Nude bathing, languid floating with a lot of draped seaweed and slow moving crabs amongst
hot rocks at high noon
7. Watch Italian movie for inspiration 'Travolti da un insolito destino nell'azzurro mare d'agosto'
or anything French. Any words whispered in either of these languages in flagrante delicto
is a plus.
8 Use of food terminology such as shrivelled radish, limp old carrot found at the back of the
fridge, rock melons, ripe mango flesh, sea water oysters or a thick hard zucchini is always
suggestive
9. If you wish to introduce humour use unlikely sex aids such as mortgage application forms,
ear trumpets, French horns and hair nets
10. We are a visually dependent society, so a visit to the dress department is probably in order:
Vicar and tarts, nurse and policeman outfits are passe. Kilts and Miss Piggy outfits are
popular. Also Elvis Presley (but only if you can sing), Gorilla and jungle animals have always
been favourites of mine, in particular the carpet python and the sabre toothed albino rat
WARNING If after administering the above ten points, no response can be discerned in the other party,check for pulse and then call an ambulance.
PS If this is all too much and the reader becomes hot and bothered and decides not to write a sex poem I recommend a nice hot cup of tea, put your feet up and watch the 'Barchester Chronicles'
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Read Write Poem 103
Pomegranate
with a twist of Genesis
I've never been tempted
to try you
I can see you have been
visited by the snake
I knew this as a child
long before I knew you
were the forbidden fruit
Compared to blood plums
and golden mangoes
YOU are not a temptation
Poor Eve
What can you expect from a companion
created on the cheap from a cast off rib?
Adam, whining like a spoilt brat for a companion
should have been left to his own devices
with all his ribs remaining intact.
Adam in time would have
taken a bite out of the
pomegranate and earned all the ensuing blame
God in his mercy would then create Eve out of rose petals
jasmine and lemon grass to make things right for the world
That is why sins are known as the sins of Adam
not as the sins of Eve
with a twist of Genesis
I've never been tempted
to try you
I can see you have been
visited by the snake
I knew this as a child
long before I knew you
were the forbidden fruit
Compared to blood plums
and golden mangoes
YOU are not a temptation
Poor Eve
What can you expect from a companion
created on the cheap from a cast off rib?
Adam, whining like a spoilt brat for a companion
should have been left to his own devices
with all his ribs remaining intact.
Adam in time would have
taken a bite out of the
pomegranate and earned all the ensuing blame
God in his mercy would then create Eve out of rose petals
jasmine and lemon grass to make things right for the world
That is why sins are known as the sins of Adam
not as the sins of Eve
Monday, November 30, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 30
Prompt...a moment to remember
My first high heels
were red and pointed
with the tiniest heel
they lived in a box
carefully wrapped
in tissue paper
I would bring them out
and look at them with
adoration I'd been
waiting for so long
My first high heels
were red and pointed
with the tiniest heel
they lived in a box
carefully wrapped
in tissue paper
I would bring them out
and look at them with
adoration I'd been
waiting for so long
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 29
Prompt... A number
8/11/88...Exit from Auschwitz
The very thought
of you paralyzes me
with fear and despair
Been twenty one
years and traces of toxin
still remain from our
marriage farce injected
by Dr. Faust
The holocaust you
foisted on me was
misdirected not
every blonde shiksa
is crucifixated or
a potential Irma Grese
You are wise to stay
with your own
I am wise to stay
with mine
At least I've learned
that from you
8/11/88...Exit from Auschwitz
The very thought
of you paralyzes me
with fear and despair
Been twenty one
years and traces of toxin
still remain from our
marriage farce injected
by Dr. Faust
The holocaust you
foisted on me was
misdirected not
every blonde shiksa
is crucifixated or
a potential Irma Grese
You are wise to stay
with your own
I am wise to stay
with mine
At least I've learned
that from you
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 28
Prompt...through
CS Lewis found
his other world
through the
wardrobe door
Having spent a
lifetime looking for
it behind cupboards
under the kitchen sink
beneath rocks on the
ocean floor I still
haven't found it
CS Lewis found
his other world
through the
wardrobe door
Having spent a
lifetime looking for
it behind cupboards
under the kitchen sink
beneath rocks on the
ocean floor I still
haven't found it
Friday, November 27, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 27
Prompt ... A shape
A heart shape is iconic
done to death
love and kisses
A square is for
a crewcut with heavy
black framed spectacles
playing Dave Brubeck
now known as the nerd
I like the elusive spiral
a spiral of white smoke
wafting through keyholes
under doors around dark whispers
in the Vatican tickling the
new Pope's ears getting up
the losing Cardinals'
noses then emerging with
flocks of white doves
to the roar of the crowd
a very distant echo from
the days of the Colosseum
when this group would have
provided tasty morsels
for the Lion King
Cecil B De Mille looks
on making notes
A heart shape is iconic
done to death
love and kisses
A square is for
a crewcut with heavy
black framed spectacles
playing Dave Brubeck
now known as the nerd
I like the elusive spiral
a spiral of white smoke
wafting through keyholes
under doors around dark whispers
in the Vatican tickling the
new Pope's ears getting up
the losing Cardinals'
noses then emerging with
flocks of white doves
to the roar of the crowd
a very distant echo from
the days of the Colosseum
when this group would have
provided tasty morsels
for the Lion King
Cecil B De Mille looks
on making notes
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 26
Prompt...Giving thanks
I am eternally
grateful for the creative
spirit which enables me
to compose
a few words into jewels
a few scraps of paper into magic
and enables me to listen
to whole symphonies
in my head
and to God
who sent me someone
who views me as
a beautiful flower
rather than a
nutty fruitcake
I am eternally
grateful for the creative
spirit which enables me
to compose
a few words into jewels
a few scraps of paper into magic
and enables me to listen
to whole symphonies
in my head
and to God
who sent me someone
who views me as
a beautiful flower
rather than a
nutty fruitcake
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Read Write Poem 102
Prompt...Food evoking memories
For my Grandmother
Dragees
Pink sugared almonds
evoke memories of
reflected candle light
through crystal glasses
sauterne roast chickens
glacee fruit split ripe figs
runny cheese venetian lace
lavender polished dark wood
a celebration dinner
at my grandmother's house
a print from the old dutch masters
Memere in marcel waves gleaming
glowing like a beacon
framed by her crystal ware
fragrant with l'air du temps
wearing crepe de chine laughing
her grace and irresistible femininity
her memorable haute cuisine
her rapture listening to
'Berceuse de Jocelyn' sung by Tino Rossi
is still very much part of that young child
who slipped smoked salmon tidbits
under the table to Florette
For my Grandmother
Dragees
Pink sugared almonds
evoke memories of
reflected candle light
through crystal glasses
sauterne roast chickens
glacee fruit split ripe figs
runny cheese venetian lace
lavender polished dark wood
a celebration dinner
at my grandmother's house
a print from the old dutch masters
Memere in marcel waves gleaming
glowing like a beacon
framed by her crystal ware
fragrant with l'air du temps
wearing crepe de chine laughing
her grace and irresistible femininity
her memorable haute cuisine
her rapture listening to
'Berceuse de Jocelyn' sung by Tino Rossi
is still very much part of that young child
who slipped smoked salmon tidbits
under the table to Florette
Poetic Asides...November 25
Prompt ...temperament
flat dark grey
leaf blowers
going mad
cockatoos screeching
neighbour's
filthy shoes
outside his front door
welcome home
flat dark grey
leaf blowers
going mad
cockatoos screeching
neighbour's
filthy shoes
outside his front door
welcome home
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 24
Prompt ...everybody says
that Picasso is a genius
I've looked long and hard
I've even looked behind
they're wrong
everybody says Renoir
is just a chocolate box artist
they're wrong about that too
everybody says solander
has a pungent smell
it doesn't
everybody says tibouchina
is gaudy...wrong
everybody is probably
the most dangerous entity
on the planet I'm sure they
would not agree
that Picasso is a genius
I've looked long and hard
I've even looked behind
they're wrong
everybody says Renoir
is just a chocolate box artist
they're wrong about that too
everybody says solander
has a pungent smell
it doesn't
everybody says tibouchina
is gaudy...wrong
everybody is probably
the most dangerous entity
on the planet I'm sure they
would not agree
Monday, November 23, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 23
Prompt...Noise
The sound of the amusical
the sound of success with
its tin whistle fife and drum
the sound of a leaf blower
the sound of a barb wired
aussie accent coming from
a petalled beauty breathing
out dragon's breath
the sound of motor bikes
the sound of speed boats
the sound of machine gun
fire from an exasperated poet
The sound of the amusical
the sound of success with
its tin whistle fife and drum
the sound of a leaf blower
the sound of a barb wired
aussie accent coming from
a petalled beauty breathing
out dragon's breath
the sound of motor bikes
the sound of speed boats
the sound of machine gun
fire from an exasperated poet
Poetic Asides...November 22
Prompt....emergency
What could possibly be urgent
after Veuve Cliquot Champagne
Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc
Figs Dolmathes Brie Artichoke Hearts
Asparagus Steak Belle Mere
Pommes Frites Sicilian Olive Salad
Mango Rockmelon Strawberry
Black Juicy Cherries with Vanilla
Marscapone Arabica Coffee
Ferrero Rocher and Macadamia
Chocolate with the Bach Brandenburg no 5
topped off with a Pavlova
Our Celebration Dinner
Dressed to Kill
Happiness and indulgent Joy
I feel an urgent need to
recapture this evening
by doing it again sooner rather than later
What could possibly be urgent
after Veuve Cliquot Champagne
Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc
Figs Dolmathes Brie Artichoke Hearts
Asparagus Steak Belle Mere
Pommes Frites Sicilian Olive Salad
Mango Rockmelon Strawberry
Black Juicy Cherries with Vanilla
Marscapone Arabica Coffee
Ferrero Rocher and Macadamia
Chocolate with the Bach Brandenburg no 5
topped off with a Pavlova
Our Celebration Dinner
Dressed to Kill
Happiness and indulgent Joy
I feel an urgent need to
recapture this evening
by doing it again sooner rather than later
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Spanish Steps at Rosie's Place Sunday Afternoon
Rose has a great music collection
art collection and books
her world is a lovely one with
rocks shells gumnut pods
far eastern fabrics with
huge fragrant candles of
sandalwood and nectar
and persian rugs
nothing random here
nothing jars
she is a real artist
she is having high tea
at Raffles this afternoon
I am here trying to grasp
all this beauty in my clenched palm
before the hot westerly forces it open
and it all goes flying up and across the bay
like the final arpeggio of the spanish steps
Poetic Asides...November 21
Prompt...invention
If necessity is the mother of invention
then the following need to be invented
a device on cell phones to self destruct if
used in a church concert hall or cinema
a device on washing machines to ward off
the odd sock thief a self cleaning toaster
an applied harmless cream that strips off
weight in 24 hours and while we're at it
a reinvention of genesis where Adam is
the dill who eats the apple and Eve refuses
to join in because she is too smart .
If necessity is the mother of invention
then the following need to be invented
a device on cell phones to self destruct if
used in a church concert hall or cinema
a device on washing machines to ward off
the odd sock thief a self cleaning toaster
an applied harmless cream that strips off
weight in 24 hours and while we're at it
a reinvention of genesis where Adam is
the dill who eats the apple and Eve refuses
to join in because she is too smart .
Friday, November 20, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 20
Prompt...And then
The orange sun hangs low
patterned by gum leaves
and palm fronds
the last boat wends its way
slowly to shore through
the reflected shimmer
Not a breath of wind
Everything is still before
the night curtains fall
the gardenias and jasmine
are putting on a special performance
even Tenzig our host's bengal cat
is staring at me with his jade green
eyes such a beautiful creature
And then I hear a car drive up
Louise and Colin are popping in
A pin scratches the surface of
a flawless pane of glass
The orange sun hangs low
patterned by gum leaves
and palm fronds
the last boat wends its way
slowly to shore through
the reflected shimmer
Not a breath of wind
Everything is still before
the night curtains fall
the gardenias and jasmine
are putting on a special performance
even Tenzig our host's bengal cat
is staring at me with his jade green
eyes such a beautiful creature
And then I hear a car drive up
Louise and Colin are popping in
A pin scratches the surface of
a flawless pane of glass
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 19
Prompt...attached
The tide rolls in
the shells attached by suckers
to the rocks have been waiting
all day their sunbaked carapaces
cooled by salt sea foam
those that didn't make it lie
empty on the sand destined
to be pressed against
the sweat of a neck
or lie in a dark drawer
The tide rolls in
the shells attached by suckers
to the rocks have been waiting
all day their sunbaked carapaces
cooled by salt sea foam
those that didn't make it lie
empty on the sand destined
to be pressed against
the sweat of a neck
or lie in a dark drawer
Poetic Asides...November 18
Prompt...Slow Poem
Sitting on a warm concrete step
listening to the crickets
twilight has drawn
the curtains
the hibiscus has closed
its petals for the evening
I sit staring
I may sit here
all night
Sitting on a warm concrete step
listening to the crickets
twilight has drawn
the curtains
the hibiscus has closed
its petals for the evening
I sit staring
I may sit here
all night
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Read Write Poem 101
Prompt Wordle
pea, procrastinate, parallelogram, porous, plaster, prevaricate, polyglot, plethora, platitudes,
processional, pernicious, prickle, posthumous
You'd have to be a pea brain
to procrastinate over constructing
a parallelogram shape in porous plaster
Don't prevaricate, just do it!
For heaven's sake
You don't have to be a soi-disant intellectual
like your polyglot Uncle Vladimir posthumously
acknowledged for his plethora of dreary
platitudes and show off piano pieces
of presto passages at the speed of light
trotting them out in a nonstop processional
to achieve this task
His pernicious exhibitionism was the epitome
of bad manners behaving like an insensitive
prick (oh I meant prickle which rhymes with schmockle)
pea, procrastinate, parallelogram, porous, plaster, prevaricate, polyglot, plethora, platitudes,
processional, pernicious, prickle, posthumous
You'd have to be a pea brain
to procrastinate over constructing
a parallelogram shape in porous plaster
Don't prevaricate, just do it!
For heaven's sake
You don't have to be a soi-disant intellectual
like your polyglot Uncle Vladimir posthumously
acknowledged for his plethora of dreary
platitudes and show off piano pieces
of presto passages at the speed of light
trotting them out in a nonstop processional
to achieve this task
His pernicious exhibitionism was the epitome
of bad manners behaving like an insensitive
prick (oh I meant prickle which rhymes with schmockle)
Poetic Asides...November 17
Prompt...Implosion Explosion
It must be dark and mirky
Vladimir where your head
is placed dreaming of scintillating
prestos outshining your colonial neighbour
but sorry Vlad it can never happen
in the slow movements
It must be dark and mirky
Vladimir where your head
is placed dreaming of scintillating
prestos outshining your colonial neighbour
but sorry Vlad it can never happen
in the slow movements
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
A Sad Truth
Prompt...the sad sad truth
The sad sad truth is
that sensitive sweet
people who see
what the others can't
are dotted over four
corners of the globe
and can only hold hands
through a small screen
The sad sad truth is
that sensitive sweet
people who see
what the others can't
are dotted over four
corners of the globe
and can only hold hands
through a small screen
Monday, November 16, 2009
Crackers
Result of moving house and too much poetry
My Sharona to you Ms De Ville
Walk likea Man
Da dada Dum
I'm going Mad
Da dada Dum
Walk likea Man
Twir linga Round
Bal ancing Books
Up siide Down
Big Girls Don't Cry
Thanks alot Frankie
Now back to the real Four Seasons
and Every Valley
Big Girls Don't Cry
My Sharona to you Ms De Ville
Walk likea Man
Da dada Dum
I'm going Mad
Da dada Dum
Walk likea Man
Twir linga Round
Bal ancing Books
Up siide Down
Big Girls Don't Cry
Thanks alot Frankie
Now back to the real Four Seasons
and Every Valley
Big Girls Don't Cry
Poetic Asides...November 16
Prompt ...Clouds
Who would dive
headlong into
the clouds
and breaststroke
to the moon?
'Not I'
said gidget girl
dreaming in pink
gingham of Troy.
Who would dive
headlong into
the clouds
and breaststroke
to the moon?
'Not I'
said gidget girl
dreaming in pink
gingham of Troy.
Poetic Asides...November 15
Prompt..... Hanging
So much of my life
has been hanging on
by a thread
an accomplished
tight rope walker
always without a net
not as nimble
as before suppose
it's inevitable
that I will lose my grip
and plunge
So much of my life
has been hanging on
by a thread
an accomplished
tight rope walker
always without a net
not as nimble
as before suppose
it's inevitable
that I will lose my grip
and plunge
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 14
Prompt...A Song Line
People who need people
Are the luckiest people
In the world
Sorry Ms Streisand
Codswallop!
On the contrary
it would be recommended
people who need people
stock up on their pollyanna pills
in case there's a shortage
there's a reason that some families
have always sent their children away
to school at an early age
it has nothing to do with cruelty
or heartlessness.
People who need people
Are the luckiest people
In the world
Sorry Ms Streisand
Codswallop!
On the contrary
it would be recommended
people who need people
stock up on their pollyanna pills
in case there's a shortage
there's a reason that some families
have always sent their children away
to school at an early age
it has nothing to do with cruelty
or heartlessness.
Poetic Asides...November 13
Prompt...Renewable
I'm a bit of a whizz at house renovation
but when it comes to makeovers
I'm reluctant
by conventional fashion dictates
I should be walking around with
a bag over my head I need
new hair,new figure,new skin
new feet,face lift,bum tuck,
white teeth and botox
Why don't I?
Well apart from joining the
soma induced brave new world brigade
I'm far too vain
Besides, with tampering
you will never know all
the cycles of a life
So many automatons stuck fast
forever looking pre middle aged
(unless you get up close and personal )
missing the whole event
I've decided if you going to be alive
you may as well know what it's like
warts and all
Youth culture relentlessly pushed at us isn't so great
the youth aren't that mad about it either
judging by the looks I was getting at the
hardware store this morning
Boy,that's a worry
I'm a bit of a whizz at house renovation
but when it comes to makeovers
I'm reluctant
by conventional fashion dictates
I should be walking around with
a bag over my head I need
new hair,new figure,new skin
new feet,face lift,bum tuck,
white teeth and botox
Why don't I?
Well apart from joining the
soma induced brave new world brigade
I'm far too vain
Besides, with tampering
you will never know all
the cycles of a life
So many automatons stuck fast
forever looking pre middle aged
(unless you get up close and personal )
missing the whole event
I've decided if you going to be alive
you may as well know what it's like
warts and all
Youth culture relentlessly pushed at us isn't so great
the youth aren't that mad about it either
judging by the looks I was getting at the
hardware store this morning
Boy,that's a worry
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 12
Prompt...If only
If only I wasn't so tired
I could read the RWP poems
If only I could find my keys
in a box somewhere
but out of 150 which one?
If only the piano removalists
had the sense to bring covers
before the rain set in
If only there was an elevator in my new place
If only I were a minimalist and not a collector
of everything moving would be easy
If only poor ol' Brown Pear was built
like Arnold Schwarzenegger
we could knock this move over faster
If only the Jersey Boys were neighbours
they could help moving boxes in harmony
and I could repay them by being their manager
If only cactus didn't have lethal prickles
If only the marmalade boys
could chip in and make themselves useful for once
If only I could stay in bed for a week
If only I wasn't so tired
I could read the RWP poems
If only I could find my keys
in a box somewhere
but out of 150 which one?
If only the piano removalists
had the sense to bring covers
before the rain set in
If only there was an elevator in my new place
If only I were a minimalist and not a collector
of everything moving would be easy
If only poor ol' Brown Pear was built
like Arnold Schwarzenegger
we could knock this move over faster
If only the Jersey Boys were neighbours
they could help moving boxes in harmony
and I could repay them by being their manager
If only cactus didn't have lethal prickles
If only the marmalade boys
could chip in and make themselves useful for once
If only I could stay in bed for a week
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Read Write Poem # 100
Sweet Dreams Aren't made Of This.
I wonder what a shrink would make of this!
This can't be happening
It has been decades
Nothing's changed
You still play like an angel
You still grip your instrument
firmly between your thighs
coaxing tenderness from those strings
with your nimble expert fingers
A familiar terrible longing overwhelms me
as you play
I can feel myself sinking again
My eye moves along
In slow motion I see
Inspector Foyle leading the viola section
Honeysuckle Weeks is sitting next to him
She looks flummoxed
Poor girl has lost her place
He strokes her ear with a sprig of mimosa
I feel betrayed by this
and then he resumes playing
That other face is familiar too
That can't be Derrick playing
virtuosic cadenzas on a harpsichord
covered in palm fronds and driftwood
Princess Michael is turning the pages
she waves to me and mouths
'Kincoppal reunion tomorrow'
I feel terribly elated at seeing her
and Derrick and then in an instant
feel upset that he has kept this from me
The music ends
the applause erupts
You take a bow
You look at me
and break into a smile
I gasp and quickly lower my eyes
I'm dancing on the rim of the moon
my damp hands clutch the fur coat
of a complete stranger
I wring it like a wet tea towel
She sits next to me
blissfully unaware
in the concert hall
I look up and there to my horror
you stand on stage morphed into Rowan Williams
enrobed in ecclesiastical vestments
a yellowing smile encased in Father Christmas whiskers
along with full eyebrow growth like
thick unruly privet hedges
I panic remembering that
I have left the eggs boiling on the stove
I wonder what a shrink would make of this!
This can't be happening
It has been decades
Nothing's changed
You still play like an angel
You still grip your instrument
firmly between your thighs
coaxing tenderness from those strings
with your nimble expert fingers
A familiar terrible longing overwhelms me
as you play
I can feel myself sinking again
My eye moves along
In slow motion I see
Inspector Foyle leading the viola section
Honeysuckle Weeks is sitting next to him
She looks flummoxed
Poor girl has lost her place
He strokes her ear with a sprig of mimosa
I feel betrayed by this
and then he resumes playing
That other face is familiar too
That can't be Derrick playing
virtuosic cadenzas on a harpsichord
covered in palm fronds and driftwood
Princess Michael is turning the pages
she waves to me and mouths
'Kincoppal reunion tomorrow'
I feel terribly elated at seeing her
and Derrick and then in an instant
feel upset that he has kept this from me
The music ends
the applause erupts
You take a bow
You look at me
and break into a smile
I gasp and quickly lower my eyes
I'm dancing on the rim of the moon
my damp hands clutch the fur coat
of a complete stranger
I wring it like a wet tea towel
She sits next to me
blissfully unaware
in the concert hall
I look up and there to my horror
you stand on stage morphed into Rowan Williams
enrobed in ecclesiastical vestments
a yellowing smile encased in Father Christmas whiskers
along with full eyebrow growth like
thick unruly privet hedges
I panic remembering that
I have left the eggs boiling on the stove
Poetic Asides...November 11
Prompt...Construction
It takes so much time
and care to construct
a nest
a painting
a tapestry
an embroidery
a life
I am constantly amazed
at what survives
the destructive hands
of a pol pot or philistine
or even smiling pollyanna
next door
It takes so much time
and care to construct
a nest
a painting
a tapestry
an embroidery
a life
I am constantly amazed
at what survives
the destructive hands
of a pol pot or philistine
or even smiling pollyanna
next door
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 10
Prompt...Love
It was always so
dangerous for me...love
I 'd walk into somebody's eyes
and lose myself completely
the most sublime experience
you could ever imagine
for a short time
the rest,rolling around in hell
shedding enough tears to
fill the all the dams
of a dry continent
It was always so
dangerous for me...love
I 'd walk into somebody's eyes
and lose myself completely
the most sublime experience
you could ever imagine
for a short time
the rest,rolling around in hell
shedding enough tears to
fill the all the dams
of a dry continent
Monday, November 9, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 9
Prompt...A Slippery poem
A hot steak and mushroom pie
with mille feuilles puff pastry
the slippery slide to obesity
ill health and terribleness
May as well slip further
get hung for a sheep
than just for a lamb
another slice of banana cake
topped with passionfruit icing
just a little drambuie in the cream
with the iced coffee
I'm moving house
I need cheering up
I feel much better
I don't believe this stuff
will kill me
If it does
It was worth it
A hot steak and mushroom pie
with mille feuilles puff pastry
the slippery slide to obesity
ill health and terribleness
May as well slip further
get hung for a sheep
than just for a lamb
another slice of banana cake
topped with passionfruit icing
just a little drambuie in the cream
with the iced coffee
I'm moving house
I need cheering up
I feel much better
I don't believe this stuff
will kill me
If it does
It was worth it
Poetic Asides...November 8
Prompt...Should
Should I go on
about not leaving the cutlets
out to defrost?
Should I go on about not
putting petrol in the car?
Should I go on about
not sorting the wash?
No I wont
I can either take the bus
get food poisoning
or wear multi coloured whites
Or
I could live on my own
Should I go on
about not leaving the cutlets
out to defrost?
Should I go on about not
putting petrol in the car?
Should I go on about
not sorting the wash?
No I wont
I can either take the bus
get food poisoning
or wear multi coloured whites
Or
I could live on my own
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 7
Prompt ...Poem for a plant
My fingers ache
My quicks are torn
My eyelids droop
with fatigue
My legs are on automatic pilot
running up and down stairs
I would like to fall into a bath
full of frangipani and wild jasmine
but I will choose the lone tiny cactus
sitting on the sill to honour
It thrives regardless
so grateful for a few drops of water
to quench its crew cut needles
so reliable I don't need to get a plant sitter
sits in a closed up room for weeks on end
and is always pleased to see me when
I come home
I like its defiance.
My fingers ache
My quicks are torn
My eyelids droop
with fatigue
My legs are on automatic pilot
running up and down stairs
I would like to fall into a bath
full of frangipani and wild jasmine
but I will choose the lone tiny cactus
sitting on the sill to honour
It thrives regardless
so grateful for a few drops of water
to quench its crew cut needles
so reliable I don't need to get a plant sitter
sits in a closed up room for weeks on end
and is always pleased to see me when
I come home
I like its defiance.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 6
Prompt...blanket,covering or covered
A blanket of nicotine
sitting at the desk
coughing and spluttering
the reek of cigarette smoke
wafting in through the window
enough to kill a brown dog
mongrels to the left chainsmoking
mongrels to the right chainsmoking
hanging out of windows
a xmas tree of lit fags
dropping like fire rain
from heaven upon the place beneath
on my car
an endless shuffle of itnerants
Right,I'm sealing all the windows
I 've got this covered
forgot to take into account the need for air
one needs to breathe in a Sydney summer
OK (cough).... I'm moving out(cough) today!
A blanket of nicotine
sitting at the desk
coughing and spluttering
the reek of cigarette smoke
wafting in through the window
enough to kill a brown dog
mongrels to the left chainsmoking
mongrels to the right chainsmoking
hanging out of windows
a xmas tree of lit fags
dropping like fire rain
from heaven upon the place beneath
on my car
an endless shuffle of itnerants
Right,I'm sealing all the windows
I 've got this covered
forgot to take into account the need for air
one needs to breathe in a Sydney summer
OK (cough).... I'm moving out(cough) today!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 5
Prompt.....Growth
My hair has finally grown
I'm no longer blonde
au naturel for the first time
in decades and oh so much
grey
To dye or not to dye
that is the question
whether it is more bearable
to be grey or tolerate the
excruciating chat of a hairdresser
a visit to whom is filled with dread
I've tried at least twenty
The pain to be beautiful is too much
I will grow old disgracefully and grey
My pets are looking adoringly at me
It has nothing to do with meal time
They just know
My hair has finally grown
I'm no longer blonde
au naturel for the first time
in decades and oh so much
grey
To dye or not to dye
that is the question
whether it is more bearable
to be grey or tolerate the
excruciating chat of a hairdresser
a visit to whom is filled with dread
I've tried at least twenty
The pain to be beautiful is too much
I will grow old disgracefully and grey
My pets are looking adoringly at me
It has nothing to do with meal time
They just know
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 4
Personal Challenge for Poetic Asides is to write a poem in five minutes.If it took longer I would not be able to commit to writing thirty of them.
Prompt...Maybe -
Maybe it's too late
to mend broken friendships
to forgive and forget
to learn ballet
to be demure
to flutter my eyelashes
to ride a bike across Europe
Probably...
Maybe it's too late
to be a free spirit
and run away with
the long hair'd Italian cellist
Definitely not...
Prompt...Maybe -
Maybe it's too late
to mend broken friendships
to forgive and forget
to learn ballet
to be demure
to flutter my eyelashes
to ride a bike across Europe
Probably...
Maybe it's too late
to be a free spirit
and run away with
the long hair'd Italian cellist
Definitely not...
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Poetic Asides...November 3
Prompt Day 3...Positive Aspects about November
November
First surf of the season
Melbourne Cup Lunch
Numero Uno's Birthday
Night Jasmin blossoms
Cherry and Mango season
Mince tarts and iced fruit cake
are already on the shelves
Buttercup and Brown Pear
commit wicked sins of
over indulgence and
Xmas shopping giving
credit cards a good work out
on books and more books
some women like earrings
I wear books
my ear lobes are dragging
along the ground
November
First surf of the season
Melbourne Cup Lunch
Numero Uno's Birthday
Night Jasmin blossoms
Cherry and Mango season
Mince tarts and iced fruit cake
are already on the shelves
Buttercup and Brown Pear
commit wicked sins of
over indulgence and
Xmas shopping giving
credit cards a good work out
on books and more books
some women like earrings
I wear books
my ear lobes are dragging
along the ground
VILLANELLE
Another easy riddle...Who am I?
You promised to love me forever
You lied and married another
May suffering follow us together
You slew the dragon and leisured
I got the fleece for your father
You promised to love me forever
You said your marriage was unpleasur'd
A princess was spoilt and a bother
May suffering follow us together
I covered her robes in poison'd feathers
You wont destroy me I'd rather smother
You promised to love me forever
The unspeakable struck like monstrous weather
A crime committed against all mothers
You promised to love me forever
May suffering follow us together
You promised to love me forever
You lied and married another
May suffering follow us together
You slew the dragon and leisured
I got the fleece for your father
You promised to love me forever
You said your marriage was unpleasur'd
A princess was spoilt and a bother
May suffering follow us together
I covered her robes in poison'd feathers
You wont destroy me I'd rather smother
You promised to love me forever
The unspeakable struck like monstrous weather
A crime committed against all mothers
You promised to love me forever
May suffering follow us together
Monday, November 2, 2009
I AM WATCHING YOU AND LISTENING TO YOU
THE DANGERS OF BLOGGING
I AM WATCHING AND LISTENING TO YOU
Entering my blog
is like coming into my
house sans door
Anyone may enter
look around, snoop
go through my underwear drawer
take what they like
but can't make a mess or
put nasty messages under my pillow
I'm not sure if I should be living here.
( I wrote this when I first started blogging in 2009)
ADDENDUM 14/5/2011
Well
little did I know of the
DANGER of blogging
My instincts were right almost two years ago.
You can have every conversation listened to
and viewing of your life's most intimate moments through
your computer without your knowledge.It could ruin your life ( if you had an interesting one i.e.)
REMEMBER to BLOCK the WEB CAM and MICROPHONE and NEVER leave anything slightly compromising or any personal information on a computer which can be hacked into and stolen by evil poetry technonerds.
Monday, October 26, 2009
PANTOUM
Wet Monday at Rose Bay
the sky in deep shade grey
with milky custard cloud
cast heavy over the bay
halyards tinkling fluted sound
with milky custard cloud
the wind began to sing
halyard clanging bell'd sound
boats rocking bob and fling
the wind began to wail
rain falls on shell scrunched sand
boats rocking heave and fling
striped umbrellas inside out
rain pelts on shell scrunched sand
stinging skin and salted lips
ripped umbrellas inside out
tears washed in white foam waves
stinging skin and salted lips
downpour heavy over the bay
tears washed in white foam waves
the sky in deep shade grey
the sky in deep shade grey
with milky custard cloud
cast heavy over the bay
halyards tinkling fluted sound
with milky custard cloud
the wind began to sing
halyard clanging bell'd sound
boats rocking bob and fling
the wind began to wail
rain falls on shell scrunched sand
boats rocking heave and fling
striped umbrellas inside out
rain pelts on shell scrunched sand
stinging skin and salted lips
ripped umbrellas inside out
tears washed in white foam waves
stinging skin and salted lips
downpour heavy over the bay
tears washed in white foam waves
the sky in deep shade grey
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Terza Rima Sonnet
Terza Rima form: ABA/BCB/CDC/DED/EE
Who am I?
your beauty was olympian and preordained
the river god caught a lapis blue nymph
by her mermaid tail and you were spawned
with an aura of orchids and eyes like ink
everyone adored you but you spurned all
echo followed you overcome by your soft pink
glow,embraced you in musk sweet thrall
you pushed her aside and broke her heart
reducing her to a vocal chamber of calls
you leaned over the pool to wet lips parched
and fell in love instantly, cupid struck gold
the face returning your gaze was poetry art
pity for you that nemesis saw this unfold
wreaking revenge for wounding echo's soul
Who am I?
your beauty was olympian and preordained
the river god caught a lapis blue nymph
by her mermaid tail and you were spawned
with an aura of orchids and eyes like ink
everyone adored you but you spurned all
echo followed you overcome by your soft pink
glow,embraced you in musk sweet thrall
you pushed her aside and broke her heart
reducing her to a vocal chamber of calls
you leaned over the pool to wet lips parched
and fell in love instantly, cupid struck gold
the face returning your gaze was poetry art
pity for you that nemesis saw this unfold
wreaking revenge for wounding echo's soul
Monday, October 19, 2009
Petrarchan Sonnet
This is my first attempt at a Petrarchan sonnet.It wasn't easy but challenge is the reason for
writing in these forms. Another riddle! I hope I haven't made it too easy.The next one will be google proof.
Who am I?
Her beauty turned your head around
You became desperate and wan with love
She was married, the problem made compound
by you buying a neighbouring villa above
hers, stalking pious Contessa at Church in town
You sent her a flock of snow white doves
She responded with disgust by putting them down
but inevitably when it came to push and shove
You could not know God's gift of good fortune
your hundreds of ardent poems so amorous
were wasted on la belle dame sans pitie
her bloodline tainted with incest importune
produced an aristocrat notoriously unvirtuous
a perverted maestro,concupiscence his metier
writing in these forms. Another riddle! I hope I haven't made it too easy.The next one will be google proof.
Who am I?
Her beauty turned your head around
You became desperate and wan with love
She was married, the problem made compound
by you buying a neighbouring villa above
hers, stalking pious Contessa at Church in town
You sent her a flock of snow white doves
She responded with disgust by putting them down
but inevitably when it came to push and shove
You could not know God's gift of good fortune
your hundreds of ardent poems so amorous
were wasted on la belle dame sans pitie
her bloodline tainted with incest importune
produced an aristocrat notoriously unvirtuous
a perverted maestro,concupiscence his metier
Sunday, October 18, 2009
ReadWrite Poem #97
This poem is sliced Allen Ginsberg with a dollop of Gerard Manley Hopkins.
With a headache I dream
wandering in and out of
the brilliant stacks of cans
following you-
Where are we going?
the doors close in an hour
Charon quit poling the ferry
I saw you Walt Whitman
Praise him
lonely old grubber
eyeing the grocery boys
Glory be to God for dappled things
what peaches and what penumbras!
I heard you asking questions
chestnut falls finches'wings
rose -moles all in stipple upon trout
sweet sour every frozen delicacy
and never passing the cashier
lonely old courage teacher
self conscious looking at the full moon
dreaming of your enumerations
on the black waters of Lethe
Which way does your beard point tonight?
Bananas
whatever is fickle or freckled
blue automobiles in driveways
at what price?
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America?
You got out on a smoking bank
I touch your book and feel absurd
and stood watching the boat disappear
We'll both be lonely
poking among the meats in the refrigerator
Who killed the pork chops?
Wives in the avocados or the store detective?
And you,Garcia Lorca
Are you my Angel?
What were you doing down by the watermelons
Aisles full of husbands?
With a headache I dream
wandering in and out of
the brilliant stacks of cans
following you-
Where are we going?
the doors close in an hour
Charon quit poling the ferry
I saw you Walt Whitman
Praise him
lonely old grubber
eyeing the grocery boys
Glory be to God for dappled things
what peaches and what penumbras!
I heard you asking questions
chestnut falls finches'wings
rose -moles all in stipple upon trout
sweet sour every frozen delicacy
and never passing the cashier
lonely old courage teacher
self conscious looking at the full moon
dreaming of your enumerations
on the black waters of Lethe
Which way does your beard point tonight?
Bananas
whatever is fickle or freckled
blue automobiles in driveways
at what price?
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America?
You got out on a smoking bank
I touch your book and feel absurd
and stood watching the boat disappear
We'll both be lonely
poking among the meats in the refrigerator
Who killed the pork chops?
Wives in the avocados or the store detective?
And you,Garcia Lorca
Are you my Angel?
What were you doing down by the watermelons
Aisles full of husbands?
Monday, October 12, 2009
ReadWrite Poem #96
The wordle provided by Jessica Wilson contained spam words
insolent ,capricious,reprobates,exulting,investment,irresistible,chelation,croak,progeny,
cosmoramic,vehement,exploded,thrasher,language, vowellized
Advertising Spam
Tired of vowellized language
by insolent capricious reprobates
exulting investment strategies
promoting irresistible deals
in the event of your chelations
not working and you croak
promising your progeny
the cosmoramic world
at your demise
Protest vehemently
toss the computer
place warning signs of
exploding bombs
in your letter box
and anyone who comes to the door
pedalling this stuff
gets a box in the ears
and a good thrashing
insolent ,capricious,reprobates,exulting,investment,irresistible,chelation,croak,progeny,
cosmoramic,vehement,exploded,thrasher,language, vowellized
Advertising Spam
Tired of vowellized language
by insolent capricious reprobates
exulting investment strategies
promoting irresistible deals
in the event of your chelations
not working and you croak
promising your progeny
the cosmoramic world
at your demise
Protest vehemently
toss the computer
place warning signs of
exploding bombs
in your letter box
and anyone who comes to the door
pedalling this stuff
gets a box in the ears
and a good thrashing
Revenge of A Woman Scorned
I wrote this for a talented young poet from Portland called Dave Jarecki who claimed that he didn't like Shakespeare!
O mistress mine it is thou who hast shot thine wing tipped poison
into the heart of our fair faced progeny as he sleeps
Oh wretched canker blossom now he loveth not the Bard
Thanks to thine evil witch hag curse
I, who hast bestowed on him the gift of making miraculous verse
like ripples of silver and gold in pearl shimmer'd utterance
am known not to mine rose cheeked kinsman, the youthful Alcaeus
who mirrors in feature and figure fine Romeo now destined to
grunt and sweat under a weary life
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child
Why, what an ass I am to have wed thee and not portented
the heartache and a thousand natural shocks
Such wicked revenge is steeped in malice Oh vile strumpet
and all for the sake of the second best bed
Note: From Shakespeare's will
'I gyve unto my wyfe my second best bed"
How many Shakespeare plays are represented in this poem?
O mistress mine it is thou who hast shot thine wing tipped poison
into the heart of our fair faced progeny as he sleeps
Oh wretched canker blossom now he loveth not the Bard
Thanks to thine evil witch hag curse
I, who hast bestowed on him the gift of making miraculous verse
like ripples of silver and gold in pearl shimmer'd utterance
am known not to mine rose cheeked kinsman, the youthful Alcaeus
who mirrors in feature and figure fine Romeo now destined to
grunt and sweat under a weary life
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child
Why, what an ass I am to have wed thee and not portented
the heartache and a thousand natural shocks
Such wicked revenge is steeped in malice Oh vile strumpet
and all for the sake of the second best bed
Note: From Shakespeare's will
'I gyve unto my wyfe my second best bed"
How many Shakespeare plays are represented in this poem?
Shakespearean Sonnet
On Thursday a small group is going to submit a Shakespearean Sonnet on the ReadWrite Poem
site in New Formalism Group. It's based on a Shakespearean wordle by Joan Houlihan.I'm not giving mine a title. Who is it?
Wreathed by flowered garlands she danced
in the sunshine excelling in seamless grace
admired by swains her lithe movements enhanced
by flowing coiled ringlets gold and fair faced
delicacy driving mere mortals to distraction
beauteous eyes that could pierce a milk white heart
turning it to a purple wound in arrow action
by a cherub, cupid's bow drawn and poised in art
Suddenly,a slate hue dulled the sky, the earth rumbled
tore and split,a black hand pulled her down
to darkness and the underworld in rolling tumble
no bird song inhabits this realm only moan and frown
she ate the pomegranate seeds thinking it was kindness
not knowing that she sealed her fate with blindness
site in New Formalism Group. It's based on a Shakespearean wordle by Joan Houlihan.I'm not giving mine a title. Who is it?
Wreathed by flowered garlands she danced
in the sunshine excelling in seamless grace
admired by swains her lithe movements enhanced
by flowing coiled ringlets gold and fair faced
delicacy driving mere mortals to distraction
beauteous eyes that could pierce a milk white heart
turning it to a purple wound in arrow action
by a cherub, cupid's bow drawn and poised in art
Suddenly,a slate hue dulled the sky, the earth rumbled
tore and split,a black hand pulled her down
to darkness and the underworld in rolling tumble
no bird song inhabits this realm only moan and frown
she ate the pomegranate seeds thinking it was kindness
not knowing that she sealed her fate with blindness
Woman's Tongue
Think you a little din can daunt my ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the ,puff'd up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
And heaven's artillery thunder in the sky?
Have I not pitched battle heard
Loud'larums, neighing steeds,and trumpets'
clang?
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to hear
As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?
This seems a very apt poem by Will to express my current mood state at the moment trying to set up a blog .I'm afraid I could outdo a 'chestnut in a farmer's fire '. Have had such an awful time with this and I'm still not certain I got it right.I 'm intimidated by most things technical and am unfamiliar with the patois/corrupt speak of computer language.For my first entry I chose Shakespeare because he is my literary love.As I sip my tea with a slice of banana cake topped with passionfruit icing I'm planning the poems for this site.Hopefully I'll be able to work out how to post some nice art work as well...this is all looking very black and white.
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the ,puff'd up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
And heaven's artillery thunder in the sky?
Have I not pitched battle heard
Loud'larums, neighing steeds,and trumpets'
clang?
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to hear
As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?
This seems a very apt poem by Will to express my current mood state at the moment trying to set up a blog .I'm afraid I could outdo a 'chestnut in a farmer's fire '. Have had such an awful time with this and I'm still not certain I got it right.I 'm intimidated by most things technical and am unfamiliar with the patois/corrupt speak of computer language.For my first entry I chose Shakespeare because he is my literary love.As I sip my tea with a slice of banana cake topped with passionfruit icing I'm planning the poems for this site.Hopefully I'll be able to work out how to post some nice art work as well...this is all looking very black and white.
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