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Syren
dreaming
 Gender: Female
Location: every which way but loose |
Poetry Discussion
On behalf of Trickster, who came up with the idea for a separate thread for poetry discussion, I suggest we talk all things poetical here to save other people's threads from getting cluttered. Views on poets and poems, rhymes, limericks, even songs if they hold a poetic inclination for you, opinions, likes/dislikes, faves, and reasons for and against would be as good a place as any to start.
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ThorinWoofer
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Jan 11th, 2005 08:31 PM |
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Peach
mordrem
 Gender: Female
Location: verdant brink Moderator |
 
I'm not great at writing poetry...I think my talent lies more towards hiphop style rhymes  I will post some of my attempts, though.
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Jan 11th, 2005 08:50 PM |
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Syren
dreaming
Gender: Female
Location: every which way but loose |
Thanks chica 
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ThorinWoofer
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Jan 11th, 2005 08:54 PM |
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Trickster
True KMC Jester
 Gender: Male
Location: United Kingdom |
Wooo!
Go Syren! See, I knew if I started one, noone would read or post in it 
Lol.
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"If clowns warred on monkeys, and the monkeys had guns, and were trained to use them, who would win?"
Death only gives another set of choices.
He who dies with the most toys. Still dies.
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Jan 11th, 2005 09:11 PM |
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lil bitchiness
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 Gender: Female
Location: Limassol, Cyprus Moderator |
kk, I stuck it, so all is set now
Ok, another question, are you guys thinking of having this discussion thread to discuss only poems written by you, or everything?
My suggestion would be to have a seperate thread if you want to discuss opets - as in, each thread for a different poet.
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في هذا العالم ثلاثة أشخاص أفسدوا البشرية : راعي غنم , طبيب و راكب الجمال , و راكب الجمال هو أسوأ نشال و أسوأ مشعوذ بين الثلاثة
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Jan 11th, 2005 09:26 PM |
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Trickster
True KMC Jester
Gender: Male
Location: United Kingdom |
Or just one for all contempory poetry?
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"If clowns warred on monkeys, and the monkeys had guns, and were trained to use them, who would win?"
Death only gives another set of choices.
He who dies with the most toys. Still dies.
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Jan 11th, 2005 09:31 PM |
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Peach
mordrem
Gender: Female
Location: verdant brink Moderator |
I think this thread should be for discussing poetry written by us members, as well as if anyone wants any critiquing done, or to brainstorm ideas if anyone has writer's block.
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Jan 11th, 2005 09:38 PM |
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Trickster
True KMC Jester
Gender: Male
Location: United Kingdom |
Yep - then one for poems written elsewhere... Perhaps with a section for sonnets and ballads?
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"If clowns warred on monkeys, and the monkeys had guns, and were trained to use them, who would win?"
Death only gives another set of choices.
He who dies with the most toys. Still dies.
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Jan 11th, 2005 09:54 PM |
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lil bitchiness
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Gender: Female
Location: Limassol, Cyprus Moderator |
Whatever you guys decide. Im open to whatever suggestions to keep you all happy
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في هذا العالم ثلاثة أشخاص أفسدوا البشرية : راعي غنم , طبيب و راكب الجمال , و راكب الجمال هو أسوأ نشال و أسوأ مشعوذ بين الثلاثة
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Jan 12th, 2005 03:33 AM |
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Syren
dreaming
Gender: Female
Location: every which way but loose |
Can we stick to discussing renowned poetry in this one? If only because the initial post outlines discussing poets, and newcomers might get confused 
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ThorinWoofer
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Jan 12th, 2005 08:56 AM |
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Syren
dreaming
Gender: Female
Location: every which way but loose |
I'm going to post poems in here that I really like, so we can talk about the styles used and the poem significance for individual people.
Rules and Regulations
A short direction
To avoid dejection,
By variations
In occupations,
And prolongation
Of relaxation,
And combinations
Of recreations,
And disputation
On the state of the nation
In adaptation
To your station,
By invitations
To friends and relations,
By evitation
Of amputation,
By permutation
In conversation,
And deep reflection
You’ll avoid rejection.
Learn well your grammar,
And never stammer,
Write well and neatly,
And sing most sweetly,
Be enterprising,
Love early rising,
Go walk of six miles,
Have ready quick smiles,
With lightsome laughter,
Soft flowing after.
Drink tea, not coffee;
Never eat toffee.
Eat bread with butter,
Once more, don’t stutter.
Don’t waste your money,
Abstain from honey.
Shut doors behind you,
(Don’t slam them mind you).
Drink beer, not porter.
Don’t enter the water
Till to swim you are able.
Sit close to the table.
Take care of a candle.
Shut a door by the handle,
Don’t push with your shoulder
Until you are older.
Lose not a button.
Refuse cold mutton.
Starve your canaries.
Believe in fairies.
If you are able,
Don’t have a stable
With any mangers.
Be rude to strangers.
This poem caught my eye because of the heady vocabulary used, I had to read it a few times and I also noticed that the end kinda flips, it starts going into random rules and tells us to actually be rude.... does anyone have any views on this? How effective was it overall, in your opinion?
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ThorinWoofer
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Jan 12th, 2005 12:01 PM |
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Trickster
True KMC Jester
Gender: Male
Location: United Kingdom |
The poem is a bit weird.
I liked reading it, especially the second verse, until it 'flipped'. Well, it was all good but I'm not sure about the Christian indications toward the end. Also, I wasn't sure what the poem was trying to say...
Well Syren, how about I start up a thread where we discuss poetry that is posted in the forum?
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"If clowns warred on monkeys, and the monkeys had guns, and were trained to use them, who would win?"
Death only gives another set of choices.
He who dies with the most toys. Still dies.
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Jan 12th, 2005 12:28 PM |
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Syren
dreaming
Gender: Female
Location: every which way but loose |
I think it was basically aiming at how to live comfortably in society, but perhaps not quite with that depth I just liked the vocab used, I thought it was quite spiffy
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ThorinWoofer
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Jan 12th, 2005 03:54 PM |
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Krabs55
Senior Member
 Gender: Female
Location: United States |
Hi Syren..cool thread. I just posted in poetry contest...check it out and tell me what u think.
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Jan 12th, 2005 03:56 PM |
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Syren
dreaming
Gender: Female
Location: every which way but loose |
Jabberwocky – Lewis Carroll
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
I know I already posted this one but I really, really love it! I think it's fantastic how Carroll uses his own words and I also found a parody of the same poem by Trevor Millum;
Jabbermockery
‘Twas Thursday and the naughty girls
Did gyre and gimble in the gym.
All mimsy was Miss Borogrove
And Mr Maths was grim.
‘Beware the Number Man, my friend!
His sums that snarl. His co-ordinates catch!
Beware the Deputy Bird, and shun
The evil Earring-snatch!’
She took the ballpoint pen in hand:
Long time the problem’s end she sought –
So rested she by the lavatory
And sat awhile in thought.
And as in toughish thought she sat,
The Number Man with eyes of flame
Came calculating through the cloakroom doors
And subtracted as he came.
She thought real fast as he went past;
The well-placed soap went slickersmack!
She left him stunned and with the sums
She went galumphing back.
‘And hast thou got the answers Jackie?
Come to our desk,’ beamed idle boys.
‘Oh, frabjous day, Quelle heure? Calais!’
They chortled in their joy.
‘Twas Thursday and the naughty girls
Did gyre and gimble in the gym.
All mimsy was Miss Borogrove
And Mr Maths was grim.
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ThorinWoofer
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Jan 12th, 2005 03:56 PM |
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Trickster
True KMC Jester
Gender: Male
Location: United Kingdom |
Heh, they're both good, but I must say I like the original better!
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"If clowns warred on monkeys, and the monkeys had guns, and were trained to use them, who would win?"
Death only gives another set of choices.
He who dies with the most toys. Still dies.
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Jan 12th, 2005 05:21 PM |
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peace_105
live and let live
 Gender: Female
Location: United Kingdom |
don't mind me asking but can we write our own poems?
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Jan 12th, 2005 06:48 PM |
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Syren
dreaming
Gender: Female
Location: every which way but loose |
Yeah, start an entirely new thread of your own to post your stuff in
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ThorinWoofer
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Jan 12th, 2005 07:31 PM |
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Syren
dreaming
Gender: Female
Location: every which way but loose |
Too Many Daves – Dr Suess
Did I ever tell you that Mrs McCave
Had twenty-three sons and she named them all Dave?
Well, she did. And that wasn’t a smart thing to do.
You see, when she wants one and calls out ‘Yoo-Hoo!
Come into the house, Dave!’ she doesn’t get one.
All twenty-three Daves of hers come on the run!
This makes things quite difficult at the McCaves’
As you can imagine with so many Daves.
And often she wishes that, when they were born,
She had all of them with different titles adorned.
Called one of them Syren, another Arcane,
And one of them Milla, and one of them Mane.
One Canadian Moose, Candy Kisses another,
And one Fever Red, and The TH her brother.
One Jedi Priestess and another one Lana,
One Doobleve D, look! A dancing banana!
One Linkalicious, another one Clovah,
One Mr Zero, renowned the world over.
One JtoTheP, one Fetcherada,
One Misha, one Trickster, and one Telperaca.
And others ones Larry, Irene, Fire and Storm.
All individual, so far from the norm.
But now she just yells out ‘Dave!’ in a state,
Coz she didn’t do it, and now it’s too late.
I severely edited this poem, adding names of members and changing the ending 
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ThorinWoofer
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Jan 12th, 2005 07:33 PM |
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Syren
dreaming
Gender: Female
Location: every which way but loose |
Mooses – Ted Hughes
The goofy Moose, the walking house frame,
Is lost
In the forest. He bumps, he blunders, he stands.
With massy bony thoughts sticking out near his ears –
Reaching out palm upwards, to catch whatever might be
falling from heaven –
He tries to think,
Leaning their huge weight
On the lectern of his front legs.
He can’t find the world!
Where did it go? What does a world look like?
The Moose
Crashes on, and crashes into a lake, and stares at the
mountain and cries:
‘Where do I belong? This is no place!’
He turns dragging half the lake out after him
And charges the crackling underbrush –
He meets another Moose
He stares, he thinks: ‘It’s only a mirror!’
‘Where is the world?’ he groans. ‘O my lost world!
And why am I so ugly?
And why am I so far away from my feet?’
He weeps.
Hopeless drops drip from his droopy lips.
The other Moose just stands there doing the same.
Two dopes of the deep woods.
I think it's obvious why I chose this poem 
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ThorinWoofer
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Jan 12th, 2005 07:34 PM |
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