POW Prompt 9 Who am I?

This is another revised poem and not so easy to guess I hope.

Her beauty turned your head around
You became desperate and wan with love
She was married, the problem made compound
by you buying a neighbour's villa right above
Stalking pious Contessa at church in town
you sent her a flock of snow white doves
disgusted she reacted with froideur and frown
inevitably all things come to push and shove
You could not know of God's gift of good fortune
Your hundreds of ardent poems so amorous
were wasted on Laura La Belle Dame sans pitie
her blue bloodline toxic tainted importune
produced a loony francais notoriously unvirtuous
a maestro of perversion, concupiscence son metier

Who Am I ?

Everyone will guess this one . This was my first attempt at a terza rima sonnet. (Revised)

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 was besotted with your glow,soft pink

She embraced you close in musk sweet thrall
but you pushed her aside and broke her heart
reducing her to a distant vocal chamber of calls

You leaned over the pool to drink lips apart
and behold fell in love instantly with this image of gold
The face returning your gaze was beauty beyond art

Pity for you that Nemesis saw this unfold
Wreaking revenge for wounding Echo's soul

KEVIN RUDD GETS SHAFTED

The mining billionaires
cheer... more coal more gold
and best of all minimal tax
The deed is done , we have won
Kevin Rudd is duly dumped
knifed square in the back
We run this country don't you know
Buy the media- Do it quick
In the middle of the night
a very old trick
Knock Knock
Who's there ?
Gotcha! Poof.. a bloodless coup!
Might have a problem
Some might think they are still living in Russia
Some might have refugee nightmares again
Some might remember unAustralian words like
Chile ,Pinochet, Pol Pot, Stalin , Hitler
Some might begin to ask if this really is 'the lucky country'
Some might suspect that 'lucky' applies to those who can
afford to leave for six months of the year
Some might click
that Australia is run by thugs and anti- intellectuals
whose descent from the treetops and walking upright is only relatively recent
Some might click
that this is a dangerous place for the bookish with humanitarian concepts and principles
So Mates...Carpe Diem
Let's grab a beer, scratch each others arses and board the private jet
Let's Sing Advance Australia Fair Dinkum and give ourselves
Three Cheers!

POW PROMPT 9

Well I am still reeling from the political assassination of our elected ex (hours ago ) Prime Minister.

It happened in the dead of night while everyone was asleep except for night owl me, who managed to write an email of support to Kevin Rudd hours before he was deposed. So at least I could do that. I was also very lucky to have a friend from Tennessee at the end of an email when it happened. Sorry Barbara about the expletives. Enough of mirky politics for the moment and on to our prompt.

WHO AM I? Write a poem about a well know person, celebrity, historical or mythical figure. Please do not reveal the name . It should be fun to guess who it is . If you want to write another terza rima sonnet for practice I would not oppose the idea! See you next Wednesday POW.

POW PROMPT 8 TERZA RIMA SONNET

JULIAN BREAM PRELUDE NO 3 VILLA LOBOS

TWILIGHT IN SUMMER

A shimmer'd stillness veils the hot golden afternoon
Colours of orange crimson nasturtiums are blurred
with mauve morning glory flowers wilted too soon

The cats sleep, snoring, twitching, dreaming of birds
catching silver carp which dart aimlessly in the pond
to the distant sound of pounding surf and lowing of the herd

Cicadas whirr in a light breeze stirring the fern fronds
Ice cubes tinkle in a glass, cows laze under the camphor laurel
big jersey beauties wearing ear tags like small yellow wands

Bright beach towels flap lightly on the fraying line. Some are floral
providing a backdrop for a still life of mangoes and Hahn beer
while chookie scratches about spotting a worm amongst the sorrel

I gaze at this twilight masterpiece my eyes brimming with tears
I will miss the Northern Rivers , my home of twenty years

SHORT AND SWEET

I resent being praised
like a super star
cough cough..just joking
Rehearsing for the dark dangerous
femme fatale part in the movie
At least it isn't a dull film
Must be tea time, I'm hungry
" Milk with mine! Thank you Jeeves.
Mmm such a comfort, tea and scones. "

POW PROMPT 8

PROMPT 8 ...POETRY ON WEDNESDAY

We have been up and running for two months already . Doesn't time whizz by? I am huddled here in furs and you lot are sipping cool drinks by the pool enjoying the cicadas. So, to celebrate your summer, next week's poem is called ' Twilight in Summer '. Choose a piece of music that
expresses summer twilight and put it on for next week. Make sure it is on you tube so that we can listen to it while reading your poem. Oh, and I almost forgot....in terza rima sonnet form please.
I think this is easier than the Shakespearean or the Petrarchan sonnet form...good one for those who have not written a sonnet before. The use of iambic pentameter is optional. Viv and I wrote some examples of IP in the last post as examples. Looking forward to discovering your musical tastes and as always your interesting and enjoyable poetry .
Ciao
Rallentanda

POW PROMPT 7

LANGUAGE SPRINKLE SERIES ...ITALIAN

Derrick has been eating pasta all week for his Italian preparation. I have been thinking of Italy and Italians friends ( sadly one has died this year) and writing this has released a whole lot of memories that have been submerged for a very long time. Looking forward to your poems.
Ciao
Rall
If you have written chunks of Italiano please provide translations. I know this is early but am busy tomorow. Besides, it is Wednesday midnight here down under at the bottom of the world.
All this has made me want to go to Italy. How about you?

LA DOLCE VITA
( For Gianni who painted vivid colours on a very bland landscape. You are missed. )

Sophia che bella
a tasty mozzarella
Marcello che bello
a dashing lothario
but not more so than
a bellissimo banker named
Gianni
a connoisseur of panache and Armani
zipping about in his smart Alfa Spyder
to Julio Iglesias looking like a cross
between the Pink Panther
and an olive brown preying mantis

Lives in a penthouse filled with
etruscan sculpture and arum lilies
to remind him of home
Serves strozzapretti and egyptian eggs
to straight city bankers
for Sunday brunch
wearing skimpy black speedos
because he can

Dresses like il Papa
and arrives at a party
with a South American Band
as a birthday surprise
Drinks crates of champagne
has girlfriends galore
(no marriage for sure)
Steals sprigs of fresh rosemary
from the memorial garden
for his torta tarantina
Kneels in prayer and beseeches
the Madonna when Italy is losing
the soccer and never forgetting the
deep warmth of his origins
will bring minestra d'orzo and flowers
when you have the flu and invite your
conservative great Aunt to lunch
presenting her with a huge pair of pink
animal print fluffy slippers
(as a joke)

My rainbow would be missing half its colours
if I had never known you
Continuare a Ballare Amore Mio

Oubliette

Man

creative
clever
inventor
inflicting
torture
cruelty
pain

Man

created in God's image
Really
Who exactly ?
Frankenstein ?

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 sound
boats rocking heave and fling
striped umbrella inside out

rain pelts on shell scrunched sand
stinging skin and salted lips
ripped umbrella 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

POW PROMPT 7

Poetry On Wednesday
POW PROMPT 7

This week's prompt is Italian.The aim is to use a sprinkling of Italian words in your poem. The photos are there to inspire you. I saw these movies light years ago and they are classics starring Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni. For those who have not seen 'Marriage Italian Style', 'Divorce Italian Style,' or ' Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow' I have put a video clip (strip scene) up for your enjoyment.This scene was reproduced with the same actors thirty years later in
Robert Altman's movie, 'Pret A Porter' with a different ( and I bet you have guessed) ending.

The top photo is from a movie called 'Seduced and Abandoned' another Italian classic made in 1963. Giancarlo Giannini in 'Swept Away' is a must see. It was made in the 1974( fabulous movie). I have not seen it since then but still remember it vividly. Guy Ritchie reproduced it in 2002 with Madonna in the female starring role .It was a dismal failure.

This is pt 1 of the 'Language Sprinkle Series' Other languages to be used in future poems are French, Spanish and I am still pondering German! Marianne will be able to tell her friends that she has written poems in three different languages:) When I say sprinkling I mean just a few words here and there. As Francis probably knows lots of Italian words, he is allowed to use lashings (rude ones too) but he has to tell us what they mean! Ciao a tutti !
" Think beautiful thoughts and you will fly."...Peter Pan.

POW PROMPT 6

POW PROMPT 6
I have written two centos based on Bukowski/Shakespeare. I will put one on now as an example in case anyone has not attempted one of these before. Remember to acknowledge all sources,no words of your own, and ideally no breaks in lines. My other poem gets posted on Wednesday.
Do you see, what, what?

It's midday Wednesday . Here is my other cento as promised. Looking forward to reading everyone's poems. The ones I have seen so far have been fantastic. I think the standard is very high and possibly the best to date.

BILL WILL KILL
What I am really worried about is
that my editor publisher might retire.
I wont blame him for getting out
Rough winds do shake the
darling buds of May
Will I have to seek other promulgators?
That fellow in the Russian
fur hat?
Or that beast in the East
With all that hair
in his ears
'Mr Chinaski, all your work
must now be submitted in
Rondo form
and
typed
triple -spaced on rice
paper '
keep it
sail it up your
ass
The first thing we do
let's kill all the lawyers
Well, John, if it happens
enjoy your divertissement
into plant husbandry
for he today that sheds his
blood with me
shall be my brother
and thank you for locating me
somewhere between
alcoholism and madness
Hooray Hooray say the roses
today is blamesday poem
for my 43rd burthday
and we are as red as blood
as the pointsettias drip in the sun
Hooray say the roses
I laugh not out loud

Sources
Shakespeare
Shakespeare Sonnet no 18
Henry V St Crispin's Day Speech
Henry V1 Pt 2 Act 4 Scene 2

Bukowski
Trollius and Trellises
Eat Your Heart Out
Having the flu with nothing to do
Hooray say the roses
Poem for my 43rd Birthday
one thity-six a.m.




Charles and Will Chill
I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny
blue hands, no your hands are not tiny
they are small, and the fountain is in France
All the perfume of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand
where you wrote me that last letter and
I loved you
like a man loves a woman he never touches
only writes to, keeps little photographs of
Do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps
Next time, take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm no Shakespeare
I'm selling rhyme and life and line
and I sat there trying to explain
that I wasn't really a poet in the ordinary sense
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
pretty soon everyone was yawning
but as God said
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry
lost another reader
Camus
always
pissed
me
off
I lose 2 or 3
each week
when sorrows come they come not single spies
but in battalions
fine.
let'em go back to
Kafka

SOURCES
Shakespeare
Macbeth Act V Scene 1
Hamlet Act 3 Scene 2
Hamlet Act 3 Scene 3 100-103
Hamlet Act 4 Scene 5
Much Ado About Nothing

Bukowski
An Almost Made Up Poem
To The Whore Who Took My Poems
I Am Visited By An Editor And A Poet
I like your books
Paris

Sun Fried..

Her wings were singed
the smell of burnt feathers
lingered for a long time
her maiden flight was too early
she peaked too soon
other attempts were made
but her confidence crushed
replaced by searing self doubt
enabled her to
manage airborne flight briefly
but then panic would set in
and she beating a hasty retreat to
the familiarity of her nest
failed once again

After a time she stopped trying to fly altogether
became landlocked dragging her reassuring
chains growing sleek and smug
always aware of
a niggling irritation
a dissatisfaction
emerging
like a virulent weed
robbing her of peace

She is driven to taking the flight
again
If she flies too close this time
she knows how to self immolate into
a whirling fireball flying through
the cosmos unlike poor Icarus
who fell plop straight into the sea
For all this time she had been misinformed
There is and was never anything to lose

POW PROMPT 6

Write a cento poem based on the poetry of either Shakespeare or Charles Bukowski. If you are feeling super surreal you could write one combining Shakespeare and Bukowski. Enthusiasts
could try one of each!

A cento poem is a collage poem. You choose lines from various poems and create a new poem from it. Ideally the lines should fit seamlessly together to produce a homogenous piece.

Please name the poems from which you derived your lines ( to impress us! )These are such fun to write and the results are often amazing! Oh no, I can hear all the moaning already across the Pacific. Look...just think of all the good new poems you get to read. Miss Pommeroy knows best!

'' blue bird" is probably Bukowski's best known poem but I like this one as well.

"the great escape"
listen, he said, you ever seen a bunch of crabs in a
bucket?
no, I told him.
well, what happens is that now and then one crab
will climb up on the top of others
and begin to climb toward the top of the bucket,
then, just as he's about to escape
another crab grabs him and pulls him back
down.
really? I asked.
really, he said, and this job is just like that, none
of the others want anybody to get out of
here, that's just the way it is
in the postal service!
I believe you, I said.

just then the supervisor walked up and said
you fellows were talking.
there is no talking allowed on this
job.

I had been there for eleven and one- half
years.

I got off my stool and climbed right up the
supervisor
and then I reached up and pulled myself right
out of there.

it was so easy it was unbelievable.
but none of the others followed me.

and after that, whenever I had crab legs
I thought about that place.
I must have thought about that place
maybe 5 or 6 times

before I switched to lobster.

POW PROMPT 5

POW PROMPT 5

I thought this poem would be a bit of a giggle but again it wrote itself and turned into something a little more serious.

MAID MARION
Her mistress was dead
The ticking clock seemed louder than usual
A feeling of dread and premonition seized her tight
Ralston would soon take over the estate
Breakfast tray to his room
could lead to the very worst
Look at silly Milly on Freddy footman's knees
She'll doubtless be the first with her wicked walk
rosy lips and blonde tendrils peeking from her cap
Cook is too old to keep an eye out anymore

Hush talk of the scullery maid's fate was a warning
to young pretty maids who take the Master's fancy
All ears are deaf to muffled cries
eyes are lowered with thoughts of relief
at escaping the butcher's block for the moment anyway
Without choice, family nor reference painted pox face life
in the lane with skirts hitched up to the waist awaited

Marion decided then and there to set her cap at Wilton
a dour decent stick already first footman
bound for butlership with a little set by for his dream
of a tea shop in the village
His trembling hands fumbling with trays
feint blushes and gaucheness whenever
she was present were all pertinent signs
of his amorous inclination
It would not take her long to curl him around her little finger
and lure him to the altar
Marion had learnt from an early age that
Feelings were only for the fortunate