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03 Nov 04 - 07:26 PM (#1315799) Subject: BS: Quiz: Bad Poetry From: Rapparee These are excepts – the first few lines, unless the number is preceeded with a * – of poems considered to be “bad.” We’re talking “bad” like the poems of the eternal Julia Moore or those of the ubiquitous William McGonagall (neither of whom are represented here). And these have been judged “bad” not by me, but by at least three reputable poets. All were written in English, and no single nationality is solely represented. See if you can name the authors and the titles - at least it’ll get your mind off politics! Answers Friday. 1. A century was fading fast, When o’er its closing decade passed A matron’s figure, chaste and bold, Who held within her girdle’s fold A bran’ new hatchet. 2. Stretch forth! Stretch forth! from the south to the north! From the east to the west, – stretch forth! Stretch forth! Strengthen thy stakes, and lengthen thy cords, -- The world is a tent for the world’s true lords! 3. I’m nine years old! an’ you can’t guess how much I weigh, I bet! Last birthday I weighed thirty-three! An’ I weigh thirty yet! 4. Death! Plop. The barges down the river flop. Flop, plop, Above, beneath. *5. His Mighty Balls – in death were thick – But searching – I could see A Vision on the Retina Of Water – and of me – 6. Where Claribel low-lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose-leaves fall; But the solemn oak-tree sigheth, Thick-leaved, ambrosial, With ancient melody Of an inward agony, Where Claribel low-lieth. 7. As I ride, as I ride, With a full heart for my guide, So its tide rocks my side, As I ride, as I ride. 8. We have seen thee, queen of cheese, Lying quietly at your ease, Gently fanned by evening breeze, Thy fair form no flies dare seize. 9. She walks – the lady of my delight – A shepherdess of sheep. *10. Dim moon-eyed fishes near Gaze at the gilded gear And query: “What does this vaingloriousness down here?” |
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03 Nov 04 - 08:34 PM (#1315853) Subject: RE: BS: Quiz: Bad Poetry From: GUEST Can't place a one of them, which is probably a good thing. What hideously bad use of the English language! |
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03 Nov 04 - 08:38 PM (#1315855) Subject: RE: BS: Quiz: Bad Poetry From: Peace 8) James McIntyre |
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03 Nov 04 - 08:40 PM (#1315857) Subject: RE: BS: Quiz: Bad Poetry From: beardedbruce got all but 2... will pm |
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03 Nov 04 - 08:43 PM (#1315862) Subject: RE: BS: Quiz: Bad Poetry From: Peace Sorry. Thought to post here. Didn't think. |
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03 Nov 04 - 08:48 PM (#1315868) Subject: RE: BS: Quiz: Bad Poetry From: beardedbruce Brucie No problem on most of them, but number 2 is a doozy- got any idea who it was? PM... |
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06 Nov 04 - 08:02 PM (#1319161) Subject: RE: BS: Quiz: Bad Poetry From: Rapparee The answers: 1. C. Butler-Andrews. The little hatchet. (A poem about Carrie Nation). 2. Martin Farquhar Tupper. The Anglo-Saxon Race. 3. James Whitcomb Riley. The little hunchback. 4. Theo. Marzials. A Tragedy. 5. Emily Dickinson. "A dying tiger moand for drink". 6. Alfred Lord Tennyson. Claribel. 7. Robert Browning. Through the Metidja to Abd-el-Kadr. 8. James McIntyre. Queen of Cheese. 9. Alice Meynell. The shepherdess. 10. Thomas Hardy. The convergence of the twain. Even the good poets have had their off days.... |
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06 Nov 04 - 10:03 PM (#1319206) Subject: RE: BS: Quiz: Bad Poetry From: Jim Krause I thought the Queen of Cheese was a hoot! I nearly laughed out loud. Jim |
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07 Nov 04 - 09:53 AM (#1319529) Subject: RE: BS: Quiz: Bad Poetry From: Rapparee If you haven't read Canada's epic poem, written to commemerator a four-ton cheese, here's the whole thing: Ode on the Mammoth Cheese We have seen thee, Queen of cheese, Laying quietly at your ease, Gently fanned by evening breeze -- Thy fair form no flies dare seize. All gaily dressed soon you'll go To the great Provincial Show, To be admired by many a beau In the city of Toronto. Cows numerous as a swarm of bees -- Or as the leaves upon the trees -- It did require to make thee please, And stand unrivalled Queen of Cheese. May you not receive a scar as We have heard that Mr. Harris Intends to send you off as far as The great World's show at Paris. Of the youth -- beware of these -- For some of them might rudely squeeze And bite your cheek; then songs or glees We could not sing o' Queen of Cheese. We'rt thou suspended from balloon, You'd cast a shade, even at noon; Folks would think it was the moon About to fall and crush them soon. |