BS: The Poetry Thread

Subject: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Stu
Date: 20 May 08 - 10:40 AM

So here's a thread
where the only posts
will be in stanzas
of rhyme and verse.

No cut and paste,
from previous work,
will be allowed
so please don't shirk.

So make each poem
a brand new one
just for this thread
for all bar none.

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: GUEST,meself
Date: 20 May 08 - 12:30 PM

Stanza? rhyme?
Don't waste my time!
I prefer my poesy free,
The other stuff's too dear for me.

Doggerel, on the other hand,
blah, blah, blah ... grand.

(Apologies to all,
For this mindless scrawl).

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: frogprince
Date: 20 May 08 - 12:37 PM

Great idea, Stigweard; but would you mind if this was folded into the "Mudcat Poetry Corner" which has been coming and going over the past five years? There's a lot of treasure in there!

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Jean(eanjay)
Date: 20 May 08 - 12:37 PM

Well, I'll just wait with fear and dread
To see what appears on the poetry thread.

Maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised
Or maybe my eyes will be opened wide.

The verses and lines may make me happy
Or maybe they will just be crappy.

Sorry!

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: open mike
Date: 20 May 08 - 12:41 PM

Poems and stories?
My sentiments lean
Toward the cowboy verse
It's raw! it's clean!

they are down to earth people
with land, horse and steer
the horses they buck, sunfish and rear,
It's best wrangling words, no broken bones here.

Laurel

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: GUEST,donuel
Date: 20 May 08 - 01:26 PM

Duke

David was born on a hill overlooking Keuka lake. If you asked his mother she might have told you even as a fetus he was a force of nature especially after she could compare David to her second born son Ed. His proud alpha father had a wealth of military discipline and education to pass on to David who soon was running the fastest, shouting the loudest and pushing the hardest at home and school.
It was as though he could never go fast enough. He was always dreaming of being a jet pilot so by the time David got behind the wheel of a car he was flying in his mind. Nothing could slow him down until at eighteen he crashed his car. After his face was wonderfully reconstructed he discovered he was accepted to fly jets.
While his engine raced he kept a half hearted foot on the brakes.
He chose to drive a Volvo and went to work at the quiet company selling life Insurance with great success, persistence and drive.
His gilrfriend Dana was a beautiful petite freckeled Irish angel.
One day she crashed his Volvo but only lost her teeth which David paid to repair and he bid Dana goodbye forever.
I was there the day he gave his Scarlet O'Hara speech about how he would never be hungry again. We were at McDonalds staring down at a dried out bitter fish sandwich oozing trnasparent tarter sauce.

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Stu
Date: 20 May 08 - 01:30 PM

Frogprince I am honoured
you think this thread's worth
merging with the 'Corner'
but the simple idea is we
converse in verse.

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: frogprince
Date: 20 May 08 - 01:35 PM

Methinks the world may never see,
a dolt, to miss the point, like me! : )

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Skivee
Date: 20 May 08 - 01:48 PM

Though some may shread a doggeral thread
It's just the kind I delight in
Where poets explore what others abhor
using words and meter that don't fit right in

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Skivee
Date: 20 May 08 - 01:58 PM

In review of my previous entry it seems
that a lexical choice I've misspoken
Now I see that I used an "A", not an "E"
and my doggerel spell is quite broken

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 20 May 08 - 02:01 PM

To find such a thread
Is both worthy and fine.
It invites me to make
The post, this, wholly mine.
But to share is a promise
Of future and hope.
I'm not sure if I'm able
To contibute...or cope!

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: GUEST,donuel
Date: 20 May 08 - 02:01 PM

David got a white female German Shepard 'Chris' who went everywhere be it business meetings or long fast drives. He also changed his own name from David to Duke. When he walked into a room people and be introduced people would often wonder who was Duke and who was David. He was in full go getter mode as his address book grew to hundreds of names. He told me that getting married would give him an advantage for promotions and taxes. So in front of me he got his address bokk and started with the A's and started calling women he hadn;t seen in years and asked each one if they wanted to amrry him. Some were already married and some thought he was joking but by the time he made his 10th call a young woman from Scottsdale Arizona said yes and flew to Rochester NY. They were married by the Justice of Peace and she started working at the urininal deoderant cake factory nearby. You could smell the scent she borught home on her clothes.
While still selling Insurance he began to sell coke that came in by yacht from Canada and Florida. He had to put up a $20,000 deposit for a steady supply. By the time he had paid back his wife for part of the deposit the marriage was over. He moved to a small town just outside the city and began selling in earnest until he had a network of sellers of his own.
He still could not go fast enough but not being a full fledged Citizen Kane with political aspirations he soon had his nest egg while in his wake some of his sellers were going to prison. One of his sellers had been a hollywood handsome Rhodes scholar but was now hauling nuclear waste as part of his prison work.
Dukes brother Ed made a small statue out of gold that had been mixed with bits of teeth that a dentist had loaned him to transform in a lost wax mold. Duke told Ed to tell the dentist that he needed time to put it on exhibitioon for a year. Duke took the gold statue and put it in a safe depisit box and had the bank extend him a line of credit against it. He then jumped on a jet to Bangkok and bought some perfect Ruby and Emerald Gems on the new credit line. Back in the US he now rode a black Triumph motorcycle and was wearing all black leather when he showed up at my door and told me he only wanted $35,000 apeice for the gems he just acquired. I didn't have the money or interest so he zoomed away. I heard his bike a minute later when I noticed he had left his gloves. I put his gloves inside my suit jacket pocket. When he opened the door and asked for his gloves I vicariously put a glassy stare on my face and slowly reached for the gloves inside my left suitcoat pocket. His eyes went wide with fear until I pulled out his gloves. He raged for a couple minutes and I never saw him again.

I have heard from friends of his brother that Duke started flipping houses and invested heavily in every Iraq private contractor you could think of. Most people would feel that they were set for life but not Duke. He is an alpha male control freak force of nature who never settled for something as slow as love. What love he needs he can finally afford and will never go hungry again.

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 20 May 08 - 02:03 PM

To be honest this thread
Fills with fun and with frollicks.
But some catters may think
It's a load of old....................rubbish......
Sorry couldn't rhyme it!

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: GUEST,dh
Date: 20 May 08 - 02:06 PM

edit corrected


The ballad of Duke Cummingham

Duke

David was born on a hill overlooking Keuka lake. If you asked his mother she might have told you even as a fetus he was a force of nature especially after she could compare David to her second born son Ed. His proud alpha father had a wealth of military discipline and education to pass on to David who soon was running the fastest, shouting the loudest and pushing the hardest at home and school.
It was as though he could never go fast enough. He was always dreaming of being a jet pilot so by the time David got behind the wheel of a car he was flying in his mind. Nothing could slow him down until at eighteen he crashed his car. After his face was wonderfully reconstructed he discovered he was accepted to fly jets.
While his engine raced he kept a half hearted foot on the brakes.
He chose to drive a Volvo and went to work at the quiet company selling life Insurance with great success, persistence and drive.
His girlfriend Dana was a beautiful petite freckled Irish angel.
One day she crashed his Volvo but only lost her teeth which David paid to repair and he bid Dana goodbye forever.
I was there the day he gave his Scarlet O'Hara speech about how he would never be hungry again. We were at McDonalds staring down at a dried out bitter fish sandwich oozing transparent tarter sauce.
David got a white female German Shepard 'Chris' who went everywhere be it business meetings or long fast drives. He also changed his own name from David to Duke. When he walked into a room and be introduced, people would often wonder who was Duke and who was David. He was in full go getter mode as his address book grew to hundreds of names. He told me that getting married would give him an advantage for promotions and taxes. So in front of me he got his address book and started with the A's and started calling women he hadn't seen in years and asked each one if they wanted to marry him. Some were already married and some thought he was joking but by the time he made his 10th call a young woman from Scottsdale Arizona said yes and flew to Rochester NY. They were married by the Justice of Peace and she started working at the urininal deodorant cake factory nearby. You could smell the scent she brought home on her clothes.
While still selling Insurance he began to sell coke that came in by yacht from Canada and Florida. He had to put up a $20,000 deposit for a steady supply. By the time he had paid back his wife for part of the deposit the marriage was over. He moved to a small town just outside the city and began selling in earnest until he had a network of sellers of his own.
He still could not go fast enough but not being a full fledged Citizen Kane with political aspirations he soon had his nest egg while in his wake some of his sellers were going to prison. One of his sellers had been a Hollywood handsome Rhodes scholar but was now hauling nuclear waste as part of his prison work.
Dukes brother Ed made a small statue out of gold that had been mixed with bits of teeth that a dentist had loaned him to transform in a lost wax mold. Duke told Ed to tell the dentist that he needed time to put it on exhibition for a year. Duke took the gold statue and put it in a safe deposit box and had the bank extend him a line of credit against it. He then jumped on a jet to Bangkok and bought some perfect Ruby and Emerald Gems on the new credit line. Back in the US he now rode a black Triumph motorcycle and was wearing all black leather when he showed up at my door and told me he only wanted $35,000 apiece for the gems he just acquired. I didn't have the money or interest so he zoomed away. I heard his bike a minute later when I noticed he had left his gloves. I put his gloves inside my suit jacket pocket. When he opened the door and asked for his gloves I vicariously put a glassy stare on my face and slowly reached for the gloves inside my left suit coat pocket. His eyes went wide with fear until I pulled out his gloves. He raged for a couple minutes and I never saw him again.

I have heard from friends of his brother that Duke started flipping houses and invested heavily in every Iraq private contractor you could think of. Most people would feel that they were set for life but not Duke. He is an alpha male control freak force of nature who never settled for something as slow as love. What love he needs he can finally afford and will never go hungry again.

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: GUEST,dh
Date: 20 May 08 - 02:24 PM

on last edit

After his face was wonderfully reconstructed he discovered the Air Force had rejected him due to his accident.

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 20 May 08 - 02:40 PM

I curse
blank verse.

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Donuel
Date: 20 May 08 - 03:00 PM

Admin: Please delete ALL my above posts except this one please.
    (the hazard of writing on the fly as opposed to Word)





The Ballad of Duke Cunningham



David was born on a hill overlooking Keuka lake. If you asked his mother she might have told you even as a fetus he was a force of nature especially after she could compare David to her second born son Ed. His proud alpha father had a wealth of military discipline and education to pass on to David who soon was running the fastest, shouting the loudest and pushing the hardest at home and school.
It was as though he could never go fast enough. He was always dreaming of being a jet pilot so by the time David got behind the wheel of a car he was flying in his mind. Nothing could slow him down until at eighteen he crashed his car. After his face was wonderfully reconstructed he discovered the Air Force had rejected him due to his accident .
While his engine raced he kept a half hearted foot on the brakes.
He chose to drive a Volvo and went to work at the quiet company selling life Insurance with great success, persistence and drive.
His girlfriend Dana was a beautiful petite freckled Irish angel.
One day she crashed his Volvo but only lost her teeth which David paid to repair and he bid Dana goodbye forever.
I was there the day he gave his Scarlet O'Hara speech about how he would never be hungry again. We were at McDonalds staring down at a dried out bitter fish sandwich oozing transparent tarter sauce.
David got a white female German Shepard 'Chris' who went everywhere be it business meetings or long fast drives. He also changed his own name from David to Duke. When he walked into a room and be introduced, people would often wonder who was Duke and who was Chris. He was in full go getter mode as his address book grew to hundreds of names. He told me that getting married would give him an advantage for promotions and taxes. So in front of me he got his address book and started with the A's and began calling women he hadn't seen in years and asked each one if they wanted to marry him. Some were already married and some thought he was joking but by the time he made his 10th call a young woman from Scottsdale Arizona said yes and flew to Rochester NY. They were married by the Justice of Peace and she started working at the urinal deodorant cake factory nearby. You could smell the scent she brought home on her clothes.
While still selling Insurance he began to sell coke that came in by yacht from Canada and Florida. He had to put up a $20,000 deposit for a steady supply. By the time he had paid back his wife for part of the deposit the marriage was over. He moved to a small town just outside the city and began selling in earnest until he had a network of sellers of his own.
He still could not go fast enough but not being a full fledged Citizen Kane with political aspirations he soon had his nest egg while in his wake some of his sellers were going to prison. One of his sellers had been a Hollywood handsome Rhodes scholar but was now hauling nuclear waste as part of his prison work.
Dukes brother Ed made a small statue out of gold that had been mixed with bits of teeth that a dentist had loaned him to transform in a lost wax mold. Duke told Ed to tell the dentist that he needed time to put it on exhibition for a year. Duke took the gold statue and put it in a safe deposit box and had the bank extend him a line of credit against it. He then jumped on a jet to Bangkok and bought some perfect Ruby and Emerald Gems on the new credit line. Back in the US he now rode a black Triumph motorcycle and was wearing all black leather when he showed up at my door and told me he only wanted $35,000 apiece for the gems he just acquired. I didn't have the money or interest so he zoomed away. I heard his bike a minute later when I noticed he had left his gloves. I put his gloves inside my suit jacket pocket. When he opened the door and asked for his gloves I put a glassy stare on my face and slowly reached for the gloves inside my left suit coat pocket. His eyes went wide with fear until I pulled out his gloves. He raged for a couple minutes and I never saw him again.

I heard from friends of his brother that Duke started flipping houses and invested heavily in every Iraq war private contractor you could think of. Most people would feel that they were set for life but not Duke. He is an alpha male control freak force of nature who never settled for something as slow as love. What love he needs he can finally afford. He has a brand new private jet and will never go hungry again.
In my mind I see him in his pilot seat starring straight ahead and straining his jet to outpace his memories, but it never goes fast enough.

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Amos
Date: 20 May 08 - 04:29 PM

DOnuel:

I don't see how that could be any verse...

A

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Newport Boy
Date: 20 May 08 - 04:31 PM

Oh dear, a challenge! That taxes my brain
but I've done it before - I can do it again!
Now - a title - a topic - a thought to begin.
My mind is a blank, what a state I am in!

World events? Too depressing - disasters galore.
The US election? I can't stand any more
(and there's still half a year to the finishing line).
Which reminds me - Olympics? Well, they should be fine
now that China has opened her doors to the press -
but that's back to disasters. Oh, what a mess!

Let me look on the bright side - summer is here.
My Beemer is ready, I've checked all my gear.
All I need is the sunshine and I'm off down the lane,
'cross the bridge to the beauty of Wales once again.
Welsh roads are a pleasure to ride on two wheels,
Whether motor or leg-driven, how good it feels
to be over the hills, down to valleys so green -
and the girls in the towns are the fairest I've seen.

That's cheered me up - I can now go to bed
and stop struggling to squeeze poor rhymes from my head!

Phil

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Amos
Date: 20 May 08 - 04:42 PM

I think yon Stigweard owes me much,
Some single-malt, a dozen roses,
By starting up this second thread,
And treading on my toeses.

It's not that I'm of grumpy mind,
Nor greatly stuffy-shirted,
But by the name he gave his thread,
My feelings, sir, were hurted!

The Poetry? All by itself?
Beyond all peer or brother?
I think he might have looked to see
There already was another!!

This daft audacity of his
Claiming the field entire,
Doth irritate my lower bowel,
And stirs my deepest ire!

Go to, go to! How dost thou dast?
The brass! The nerve! The gumption!!
A lesser man would be ashamed
Of such nominal presumption.

But never mind your stammering vows,
Your explanations flimsy;
For we are on the Mudcat now,
Where nothing rules but whimsy.

Go then ahead, and cull thy rhymes,
The doggerel-tainted verses.
No matter what trash my thread gets,
I'll know where something worse is!

Pontiff O'Keats Freely
On The Tide of Minor Phlegm
from "Couplets We May Do Without",
Ebenezer, Geezer, and Wheezer, pubs.
Edinburgh,1978

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 20 May 08 - 04:53 PM

We all have our problems, some better some worse,
And some I am sure here, have need of a nurse.
But to tell you the truth, this thread is great fun,
I must end such enjoyment....my post is now done!

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Rowan
Date: 21 May 08 - 02:34 AM

Simple poesy?
Perhaps one day I will write
beautiful words.

Cheers, Rowan

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Stu
Date: 21 May 08 - 04:00 AM

I started this thread in a hurry
and now I really do worry
For old A's upset
and you can bet
I am feeling so dreadfully sorry.

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Amos
Date: 21 May 08 - 11:02 AM

Ach, Stig, your puir dentures are gnashin'
Regretting your faux pas in fashion!
But your soul, sir, is shriven,
Your sins are forgiven,
An' thysel' needeth no further faschin'!!

Robert Tanning
Ode to a Pasture Full of Posts
from Aether Poems and Other Daemons, Browning and Browning, Boston, 1997

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 21 May 08 - 12:15 PM

With rue this thread is laden
For many a friend I've had
For many a rhyming Catter
Whose cadences have gone bad

In couplets too hard for coupling
they've bumbling gone astray
In lines too long for scanning
They're simply wasting an hour of their day

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Skivee
Date: 21 May 08 - 01:37 PM

Are you saying that we should be cowed
for being so overly proud
and full of conceit,
for lines quite replete
with rhythms and rhymes not allowed?

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Amos
Date: 21 May 08 - 02:08 PM

Mudcat poets all, down to a man,
Write verses that simply don't scan.
The reason, I fear,
Is compellingly clear:
They keep on trying to put as many syllables into the last line as ever they can.


A

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Rowan
Date: 22 May 08 - 04:48 AM

Limerick poems
seem to be the preferred form,
but I like haiku.

Cheers, Rowan

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Stu
Date: 22 May 08 - 05:11 AM

black text on white screen
pixels shuffled into a
small three line poem

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Amos
Date: 22 May 08 - 10:20 AM

Pathetic in scansion and feeble in rhyming,
In imagery wanting, and awkward in timing
In feeling, too callow; in thoughts, rather thin.
Unpleasing in shape, for the shape it is in.
In creative powers, most wan and frenetic--
The stuff of this thread, sir, is hardly poetic.
Reflecting, I think, were you in your right head,
You'd have named this invention the Doggerel Thread.

A

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Skivee
Date: 22 May 08 - 09:23 PM

seventeen beats
may draw the novice poet
to false gravitas

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Joe_F
Date: 22 May 08 - 09:49 PM

A true Mudcatter may with ease enjamb
An imp of Satan and the Great Iamb.

Subject: RE: BS: The Poetry Thread
From: Amos
Date: 22 May 08 - 11:31 PM

Very funny, Joe! Iamb Who Am!!! (A verse form known as Iambic Egometer...).


A