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distracted

A poem or 2

97 posts in this topic
My opinion is that it takes more skill to make words which don't rhyme flow well. If that makes sense. I'm not sure what blank verse is either.

not sure I know what you mean, do you have an example?

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I'm not sure what blank verse is either.

This probably won't make anything clearer, but I tried...

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My opinion is that it takes more skill to make words which don't rhyme flow well. If that makes sense. I'm not sure what blank verse is either.

not sure I know what you mean, do you have an example?

Well, I'll try and explain. Sorry if I can't explain it well.

Bascially poems which rhyme I think naturally flow, like sound wise they flow well from one word to the next, and from line to line etc. When you speak the words it has almost a rhythmic quality. You know what flow is in music? I think it works the same with poetry, lyrics are poetry, the flow of words in a song, where the words gel well. Where the words sound good together and each moves to the next nicely. With poems which rhyme I find it easy to make the words flow. When the poem doesn't rhyme I find it much harder to make it flow nicely. Sorry I can't explain it better. To be honest I know nothing about poetry apart from things I've written. I've never read poems really. Only a handfull which were in the middle of philosophy books and such. I don't know anything of the art. Just what I've figured out while playing with words and writing what I think are poems. Can't really think of any examples to show you what I think flow is. Can't even think of any tunes so I'm not being very helpful lol

Thanks for the link Sin ;)

But anyway, here's a poem which I read that always sticks in my mind. You might like it. :)

* You never can tell when you do an act

Just what the result will be;

But with every deed you are sowing a seed,

Though the harvest you may not see.

Each kindly act is an acorn dropped

In God's productive soil;

You may not know, yet the tree shall grow

And shelter the brows that toil.

You never can tell what your thoughts will do

In bringing you hate or love;

For thoughts are things, and their airy wings

Are swifter than carrier doves.

They follow the law of the universe—

Each thing must create its kind;

And they speed o'er the track to bring you back

Whatever went out from your mind.

o You Never Can Tell (1895)

Edited by distracted
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thanks for the link Sinful, clear as mud now!

I understand what you mean now Blayz'd, nice poem as well!

Here's one that doesn't rhyme or about drugs, probably not a poem I suppose:

...................

Emotional nuances of an eloquent heart,

Fathering the surface with fragile ripples.

Ghost-like traces of Cetacean below,

Foretelling the arising of Mankind's certainty.

A maelstrom of countering currents,

Spiralling light-ward, becoming knowledge.

The behemoth breaches, exposed vitality,

Naked in the dawn of realisation.

Power inordinate, vulnerable to fates whim,

Ancient as the engulfing waters.

Bringing vibrant awareness of the souls manna,

Flanking both sides; Elation and Fear.

..............

and back on the off your head theme:

..............

Supine and serene,

Basking in tranquility.

Breathing languidness:-

An indifference creation.

Time dilation,

The eternal instance,

Revolving around us,

Shades invading.

Existance displacement,

No longer a feature,

Residing apart,

In foggy surrealism.

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I`m definatly no expert on blank verse,but the bit at the end of Withnail & I where Withnail recites Shakespear,is that anything like it?

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thanks for the link Sinful, clear as mud now!

I understand what you mean now Blayz'd, nice poem as well!

Here's one that doesn't rhyme or about drugs, probably not a poem I suppose:

...................

Emotional nuances of an eloquent heart,

Fathering the surface with fragile ripples.

Ghost-like traces of Cetacean below,

Foretelling the arising of Mankind's certainty.

A maelstrom of countering currents,

Spiralling light-ward, becoming knowledge.

The behemoth breaches, exposed vitality,

Naked in the dawn of realisation.

Power inordinate, vulnerable to fates whim,

Ancient as the engulfing waters.

Bringing vibrant awareness of the souls manna,

Flanking both sides; Elation and Fear.

..............

and back on the off your head theme:

..............

Supine and serene,

Basking in tranquility.

Breathing languidness:-

An indifference creation.

Time dilation,

The eternal instance,

Revolving around us,

Shades invading.

Existance displacement,

No longer a feature,

Residing apart,

In foggy surrealism.

You've answered my question there man. That's blank verse :yes: Blank verse is just a verse form that has the meter of poetry (the rhythm, that thing which distinguishes poetry from prose, the breaking down into verses, the rhythmic structure) but without any rhyming, and to me it's a far harder verse form to do than rhyming poetry, because the rhyme, be it every line, every other line or more complicated variations, gives you something to work the rhythm around (in a very basic way you can go de dee de dee de *dum*, de dee de dee de *rhymes with dum*, so as long as you've got the *dum* and the rhyme for it, you can build the rhythm of the lines around them). To me the ability to do blank verse is the sign of a genuine talent for poetry :yep:

Edited to add sorry to go all farty analytical, I like em man B) Was just kinda trying to say in response to

Here's one that doesn't rhyme or about drugs, probably not a poem I suppose:

that it doesn't have to rhyme to be a poem, in fact a lot of stuff that does rhyme isn't poetry, just rhyming :spliff:

Edited by distracted
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Thanks Boojum, I think I now understand....... I've just looked up poem and verse in the dictionary and discovered a new noun, this is the first and I am certain the very last time I will type it ever!

Prosody: The theory and practice of versification; (in technical use) the branch of knowledge which deals with the forms of metrical composition...... there's a word for everything I suppose B)

..............

here's another, its a bit rhyming, but the verse structure doesn't work.... the prosodists / prosodians will be shaking their heads!

..............

I know their faces,

I feel their fears,

I've lived their joys,

Their dreams,

Their tears.

We’re understood,

My friends and I,

But seldom talk, as friends we hide;

Our joys, our fears, our dreams, a tear,

Unspoken problems; ever near.

We share our dreams of bygone days,

Recollect the fears of past forays,

Reminisce long gone joys,

The muddied emotions of teenage boys.

Like selfish tourists we cruise the sites,

Never discussing each others plights,

Marvelling: expressions, trips and feats,

Firmly planted in our cosy seats.

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If you are interested in understanding poetry a bit more, you would probably enjoy reading Stephen Fry's "An Ode Less Travelled". Very informative.

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I have died a thousand deaths and I have lived a thousand lives.,

you cannot lie to me as I have had a thousand wives.

I've had many, many houses in a thousand different places,

I've lived lives that gave me scars upon my thousand different faces.

I've certainly known adventure and I've had a lot of fun,

But now I'm just so tired, I'm finished, I'm done.

Ive forgotten more than you shall know I've learnt so many things,

But now I only yearn for knowledge of what the next world brings.

See when you've lost all I have lost the fruit of life just ain't as sweet.

You loose the will to rise with the dawn, you loose the will to eat.

mourn me not when I am gone, As I'm happy and complete,

What I've accomplished in my life was some amazing feat.

To sleep for all eternity and join the gods on high,

Is my last and final mission as I lay down here to die.

So goodbye my son you've been the best of all the sons I've had,

all I ask is you remember me, your ever loving dad.

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I awakend in the morning to a very merry glow

i there aspyed a robin apone my windowsill

it sang a song so sweetly

it sang a song so true

it brought back happy memories of my love for you

so ilistend to its singing and tip toed from my bed

and softly closed the window

and crushed the feckers head

h17

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Hey maxigrower is that your own?

I awakend in the morning to a very merry glow

i there aspyed a robin apone my windowsill

it sang a song so sweetly

it sang a song so true

it brought back happy memories of my love for you

so ilistend to its singing and tip toed from my bed

and softly closed the window

and crushed the feckers head

lol

This was obviously written before meeting Mrs. B :)

I know not her name or her ghostlike face,

Nor envisage her frame, recognitions base.

Not once has scent, fond memories returned,

Although I can say true, I have never been spurned.

For the truth of the matter, this angel I deem,

This goddess, my soul mate, loves manna, a dream.

I never have met, we walk life apart,

But I hope soon to lead her into my heart.

Where space awaits, a chasm of hope,

We’ll sit back and marvel in a cloud of smoke!

Edited by distracted
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Hey maxigrower is that your own?

Yes mate it is.

I did another on one of Boojums threads the other day aswell. incase you missed it:

There's no glory for tommorow it's all in the past. the great ones

before us have made their names last. They've taken the glory an now

it's all gone and so to is honour there's little or none. There's

still good in this world and honourable intention, but there's not

much necesitty and therefore invention. There's no longer great

battles or wars to be won, or new lands to conquer just for the fun.

The kings of the past and the leaders of old would stand at the front

and be brave and be bold. They would come out the victor or lay down

their life, they'd die by the sword or the bow or the knife. But now

they have leaders who's job is to talk an if things get bad then they

can just walk, without forfieting their lives or having to fight, they

just push a red button and light up the night. I wonder which man

who's living today, says anything that's really worth hearing them

say. Who's actions will eco through time and through space who's name

shall be remembered or their words or their face. In thousands of

years when were all long Gone, who will remember the things that

you've done?...

Kind regards, Maxi ;-)

Edited by distracted
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Sorry Maxi, I missed that but I like it, where was the thread?

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Hi,

"The which historic personage would you be?" thread.

It is quite a nice idea for a thread.

I like your poes mate, Love the last one. Makes me think of women I've admired from affar :-)

Kind regards, Maxi ;-)

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Some of these words are wonderful.....

Do we have a "pinned" poetry site at all? To have a site where folk can put down their thoughts and words in poetic form would be marvelous... Then you wouldnt have to search for somewhere to share your words :blushing:

If we havent got a pinned poetry thread, I think it would be appropriate for one of you word magicians to start one perhaps?

In anticipation .... lol

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