Any poets? - Comments, CONSTRUCTIVE critisism, ideas.

clark · 2005-01-10 12:13:55

Red rock, dust and soil
Weathered time, its endless toil
Remaining barren desert frozen dry,
As empty as silent scarlet sky,
No sound but crumbling dirt to sand,
None to touch with prints upon this land-
Empty promise was the promise made,
Till man and hope did make it fade.

clark · 2005-01-26 09:22:39

Quiet white and flowers fold,
Sunbeam kiss in sleeping cold,
Frozen dew from petals drop,
Winter reaps this summer crop,
Imagined fragrance waits anon,
Where Spring will bloom upon the dawn;

Not of Earth this dreaming sleep
Where sky above longs to weep,
And count time as beating clock
Breathing life into lifeless rock.
Red Mars once glowed green and blue,
In sleepless dream, it glows anew.

Seasons passing in earthly chime,
While patient Mars awaits its time.

Ian Flint · 2005-01-26 20:11:19

Well, this isn't about Mars, but what the heck. I make up stories for my kids at bedtime, and one night this poem just came to me. The kids only heard the first five lines, but you lucky dogs get to read all of it!

Herm the Worm

Now there once was a wiggly worm,
And he went by the name of Herm.
He wiggled and wriggled
And jiggled and giggled.
What a jolly old worm was Herm!

The name Herm was short for Herman,
But sometimes they called him Sherman.
What a laugh he would have.
It made everyone glad.
He said his name must be German!

Now everyone laughed at this mess,
For Herm seemed to be in distress.
No, not German, they drink.
You are Scottish we think,
For you look so good in a dress!

Now Herm started to yell and shout,
"You had better all go. Get out!"
He was jolly and such,
But he'd just had too much.
So he frowned and started to pout.

Head sagging like flowers that wilt,
Herm stared at the walls he had built.
His friends act like vultures
But don't know their cultures,
For it's not a dress -- it's a kilt!

Now Herm called his friends with a smile,
"Come back to my house in a while."
Bearing gifts to the fore,
He'd meet them at the door,
And he'd wear his kilt -- 'twas his style.

clark · 2005-01-31 10:19:15

Ian, your children are lucky! I hope that got to hear the full thing.

There are not to many talkers in this thread, but I appreciated the sharing.

I've always been amazed at the way a poem will seize one, or a general idea, while at other times no force in the world can make it come.

clark · 2005-01-31 12:08:44

Borrowed your form a bit Ian.

No children does she hold,
This wanting waiting mother cold,
With bosom bereft and unadorned
By childhood laughter, life un-warmed
Struggled, withering alone in her fold.

Tree sway noon and shade with flying kite,
Mothers milk with good morning at first light,
Treasured memories never received
As spark of life failed in need,
Beneath the quiet endless night.

The tears to mourn never shed,
Leaving stains where life once bled,
And passed away with her final lullaby
To soothe the babe, its mortal cry-
A song of blue, then green, now ever red.

Ian Flint · 2005-02-01 15:23:23

Thanks, clark.

And yes, they did get to hear all of it.

Borrowed your form a bit Ian.

Golly gee... you shouldn't have.

I see how you followed the rhyming pattern...

A
A
B
B
A

But you didn't copy the number of syllables...

8
8
6
6
8

...slacker! :;):

This structure has a name, but I can't remember it.
I'll have to brush up on my poetry vocabulary. I must have been too busy drawing rockets during all those English classes.

clark · 2005-02-02 07:33:10

I can't believe I am being taken to task on a "Limerick"!

Usually limericks are composed of 9-9-6-6-9 syllable counts, yet I think you effectively used the 8-8-6-6-8 count for your own devices. :;):

So, borrowing your form a bit more... I revised the previous.

No children does she have to hold,
This wanting waiting mother cold,
Breast bereft, unadorned
with youths smile, life un-warmed,
wilting alone within her fold.

Tree sway noon, shade and flying kite,
Mothers milk and kiss at first light,
Prized dream never received
Spark of life failed in need,
Beneath the quiet endless night.

The tears to mourn were never shed,
Leaving stains where new life once bled,
She sings of loss in sigh
To hush babes mortal cry-
A song once green, now ever red.

clark · 2005-03-14 13:39:36

Skipping pebbles in the Martian dust,
Making ripples upon red hewn rust,
Graceful arc to precede each rocks fall,
Motion given by this human call,
Sea-shore where no liquid waters run,
Mankind repeats beneath distant sun.

clark · 2005-03-30 12:14:39

Farewell cold setting Martian sun,
your longest day has come and run,
in fire and warmth you spoke aloud,
but to Martian cold you have bowed.
When night she comes to world of red,
This light shall fade, for Mars is dead.

Ian Flint · 2005-03-30 15:11:34

The continuing adventures of Herm the Worm.

Now there came a call for all worms.
Annelida was the true term.
Arthropods, don't apply.
Only earthworms will fly,
For to Mars you'll go they affirm!

They'll send you to break up the soil.
Without you their gardens would spoil.
Who are "they" you might ask?
Why, who else for this task,
But NASA to do all this toil.

So Herm sent in his resume,
But didn't hear back until May.
His friends thought him crazy,
His eyes were all hazy
With tears for he'd go there to stay.

His suitcase was packed to the hilt.
He left with no feeling of guilt.
Oh, he loved his homeland.
He'd be famous he planned,
So he wore his favorite kilt.

The rocket took off with a roar,
Squishing Herm's soft face to the floor.
He thought he'd surely die.
Then he began to fly.
He was in the astronaut corps!

clark · 2005-04-13 11:55:51

She waits with soft smile upon her sweet lip,
For whom does promise promise waiting kiss?
Not I, for I am but a passing ship,
Her smiling shores my unfurled sails do miss.

Foul fated wind that brought my humble gaze
To waiting smile which waits on promise made,
Not I am answer to her waiting days,
For no such promise will this promise trade.

Not I to answer a long waiting kiss,
Though smiling promise I shall sorely miss.

BWhite · 2005-04-13 12:24:01

I spy a passing gallant ship,
I pray its call I shall not miss.
I await, warm smile upon my lip,
Offering promise of a soft sweet kiss.

Lo, towards my shore it makes its turn,
Its colours seem familiar to my glass.
Never known prince, my heart now burns,
Will your presence finally come to pass?

Closer now, I spy most unpleasing name,
Though writ proudly upon that ship.
And sadly, almost to my shame,
I must withdraw the smile from my lip.

Cobra Commander · 2005-04-13 12:29:11

It seems my ships have arrived right on schedule.

clark · 2005-04-13 12:34:30

A broken smile to my reply
My ship then set in seas adrift
The shores once spied with hopeful eye
Have sunk as lovely sands did shift

In storm her voice did crack upon
And mast and bow and sail did break
In hope I placed the coming dawn
But still I paid for her mistake.

Fortune favors braves and fools
But love does not play by those rules.

BWhite · 2005-04-13 12:39:29

It seems my ships have arrived right on schedule.

Yup. Smack into the hidden shoals placed by the harbor entrance.

= = =

I have read that poetry is highly agonistic

Despite all rumors to the contrary.

Edited By BWhite on 1113417755

clark · 2005-04-13 12:51:46

I have read that poetry is highly agonistic
Despite all rumors to the contrary.

This duel of words will cut both ways
To the heart, or with a graze
My sword, this pen, shall avenge
Your rhyme becoming a sweet revenge
Back then forth with utters of deceit
Forward now, then retreat
Ah, but on and on we go
Till our meter breaks in utter woe,
But fear not, if you shall first fall
For all true poets heed their call,
That they who rhyme in stanza true
May live but longer, to rhyme anew!

reddragon · 2005-05-08 09:08:59

O wherefore scale the high, immortal heights
But for to find a faint red, wand'ring star,
And wherefore sail through dark and endless nights
To claim the cold and rusty land afar.

O what has Mars that Earth herself has not?
Are not there tasks terrestrial today
And problems here to occupy our thought.
Why would some Earth-men wish to go away.

Where else shall our explorers go today,
With nowhere left on Earth to wander far,
And each frontier a cellphone's call away?
Again we go where yet no people are.

For Mars awaits, and man must one day go
And make the mountains of that world seem low.

BWhite · 2005-05-11 07:26:01

Not my poem, its someone else's http://www.dailykos.com/story/2005/5/11/81914/0253]work in progress:

The poet's comments.

I'm not quite sure how to end this poem, but I hope it makes pretty clear what the Republican plan is here: To dismantle every single private or public policy tool that stands between the middle class and economic desperation.

Sharecropper society. 0.5% at the top control all the wealth.

Then there are the rest of us.

Cobra Commander · 2005-05-11 07:37:17

There once was a party of liberals
who fought very hard for their principles
but then one day
they threw it away
if you're not with them, you're a criminal
stealing from middle class citizens
(excepting their own bit of pilferin')
they rant through the day
Bush will take it away
but refuse to give real alternatives

Them rhymes are good enough for government work.

Shaun Barrett · 2005-05-11 17:42:30

Nice work, Reddragon!
For me, the 'piece-de-resistance' was this verse:-

Where else shall our explorers go today,
With nowhere left on Earth to wander far,
And each frontier a cellphone's call away?
Again we go where yet no people are.

Sums it up well, in my view. :up:

[P.S. How on Earth did Bill manage to drag the Rep/Dem tribal war into this thread, too?!!
And shame on you, CC, for encouraging him in his barely sub-clinical obsession. ]

clark · 2005-05-14 12:46:43

Democrats are Left, so never Right,
They will tax and spend and quail to fight-
Republican’s though, a steadfast breed,
They spend without tax and never heed,
The truth of what may soon lie in store:
That those who spend without means to pay,
Will pay the price on election day.
Unless of course it happens again,
Where people vote on a view of sin.

Oh well, so sad, and a ‘se la ve’
To Mars, to Mars, whatever will be.

BWhite · 2005-05-14 20:43:59

:up: :band: :up:

clark · 2005-05-24 11:37:35

Upon the peach tree drooping branch
Gold fruit does sway and gently hang,
Fearful children from heights do blanch
Yet still the lure of fruit does pang,

Among the fright comes one born bold
To scale this trunk and tree and bough,
And pluck the waiting fruit of gold
For fear, such children never bow,

Yet from the height of fearless rise
Moves unseen wind to blow and shake,
And child with fruit now falls from skies-
Such is the chance the daring take.

From up above the heights do call,
Those down below to seek their fall.

srmeaney · 2005-05-25 10:14:40

The Turtles by the Sea

Here I stand by waters
My feet in golden sand
Oh love the green sea turtles
as they move out
from the land.
And how do I remember
a moment in the Sun
with ever and a heart
to sing the young on.
I know they are a moment
in a brief and simple way
I love the ever distant
to know the race of way.
Call the distant ocean
Here the breaking waves
Oh love the green Sea turtles
that the Man have but a day.

clark · 2005-06-16 20:44:50

Alone, howls cold barren Moon
While lovers down below do sigh,
And silent stars sing the night,
Till dawn they wail goodbye;

Alone, howls forgotten Sun
Till daybreak burns bright sky away,
Yet come the dawn and goodbye
With Moon our hearts will stay;

Alone, howls love far apart
As barren Moon flees from sky,
The stars have sung sad farewell,
Alone, we howl goodbye.

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