Long On writing and wordswriting Poems
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* The POETRY RULES BOX *
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* When poets jump into the poetic forms box, poetry will glow. *
* Whether writing senryu, clerihew, sonnets or haiku, skills show. *
* So, I try to follow rules of form during a poetic creativity flow. *
* And I believe that with practice, my writing skills will grow! *
* Even when composing free or blank verse, rules in my mind echo. *
* Blank verse may not have rhyme, but rhythm is definitely aglow. *
* ~ If there is no rhythm, the poem is a written schism. ~ *
* Free verse, on the other hand, is where beat and rhyme find zero. *
* Is there more in the poetry rules box? I say, “Yes,” good fellow. *
* Besides forms rules, there are conventions of grammar to follow. *
* I use spell check and grammar check to remove error’s sorrow *
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* The POETRY RULES BOX *
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This Shape poem, written with mono-rhyme
is dedicated to Constance ~ A Rambling Poet~
She loves the rules, as do I.
© August 20, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Hey WARLOCK! Why don't you and I take a little test;
Separate ourselves from the rest, to determine who is best.
I grow weary of waiting for P.D. to respond to my battle cry.
So, don't be shy, and please don't lie! Would you like to battle THIS guy?
I took a little time to see what you had to say.
I don't know about Nate the GREAT, but Doc the POET wants to play.
Let the SORCERER and the SAMURAI battle for the top spot.
Now show me what you got, by taking your very best shot.
I guess you believe that you deserve to wear the crown,
But, like the Kidster and the Clown, you,too, will be shut down.
I am not a punk, so please don't underestimate my power.
My goal is to devour, and I get stronger by the hour.
Once upon a time, writing sonnets was the plan,
But, now, I seek the challenge of DESTROYING any man.
I have a humble arrogance, when it comes to writing rhymes,
Which is why I will accept any challenge any time.
YES! I think I am the best, so don't even bother to ask.
But, the question that I have for you is, "Are you up to the task?"
My confidence is high, so my bravado is strong.
My skills have been sharpened, so I can do no wrong.
My words will rain down, like a storm upon your head.
My bullets will separate the quick from the dead.
My Tetractys and my Cingku are sharp and strong as steel.
My Dodoitsu and my Choka will make sure that your fate is sealed.
I can slice and dice your limbs with these four Japanese swords,
Then, with a Haiku, politely sever your spinal cord.
So when it comes to courage, my friend, I tell you I have tons,
And from no fan or no man would I ever run.
If a battle is what you seek, then you are welcome to fight me,
But please, my friend, please do not try to take me lightly.
So unto you, WARLOCK, this challenge has been formally issued.
But, before you accept, you might want to stock up on your tissues!
As the ink touches my writing pad every letter seems to glow.
I feel I'm going mad watching sentences light so bright like a rainbow!
Each word seems to hypnotize and my mind begins to travel.
I watch through brown eyes as the poem begins to unravel!
Nouns and adjectives make up each dazzlingword.
The exclamation at the end of certain sentences compliment my verbs!
Yellow, red, and blue hues reflect my mood.
Each paragraph shows a little bit more attitude!
I wonder how so many colors can come together and still coexist?
The stanza's flutter light as a feather never tiring my wrist.
My rainbow of letters in my sentence3s never cease to amaze me.
A canvas of art within my heart is the color of poetry!!!
Darkness fell across my writing pad, putting my stanza's in gloom.
I just knew I would go mad as I looked around the pitch dark room.
In the darkness I felt the push of my pen, and went with the flow.
A premonition again, and looked down to see each letter begin to glow!
Even the punctuation seemed to have a bluish hue, that illuminated my eyes.
I had a huge sense of deja-vu and the color of poetry I begin to recognize!
Each letter stood out all alone, and brighter they seem to grow.
Sentences like different colors of gemstones looked like a horizontal rainbow!
My pen begin to dance, having an aura of a brilliant white.
The stanza's begin to tell of a romance that would soon under the moon ignite!
I couldn't believe it had to do with me, and my head started to spin.
A love I wanted to achieve begin with the color of poetry all over again!!
*See pixs of me and other poems @ PoetryPub.ning.com (Jimmy M. Anderson
I received a novel item in the mailbox today.
It wasn't the usual bill or another political survey.
'Twas a letter! A letter, mind you, from a friend of many years!
A hand-written missive so rare that I'll keep it among my souvenirs!
What a pleasure to receive cheery news on the written page,
When e-mail messages that clog my computer are all the rage!
'Twas good to see splendid cursive writing from his fluid pen.
I hadn't received a letter via slo-mail since I don't know when!
The computer is a marvelous contrivance and has so many uses,
But using it for the personal touch, precious intimacy it reduces!
Nowadays, communicating with cell phones and texting is so fast,
That I fear the art of letter writing may become a thing of the past!
I must admit that I find communicating with the computer opportune,
When with family and friends I wish to expeditiously commune.
But when love or sincere condolences I wish to convey,
A letter is more appropriate rather than a computer screen display!
In the not too distant past, I wooed my intended the old fashioned way,
By composing saccharine missives sealed with a kiss almost every day.
I'm not an arbiter of such things but I think it is always in good taste,
To send a letter rather than use the computer to cut, copy and paste!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
As darkness falls, strange and eerie things begin...
Maybe it's the alcohol consumption, for something happens to my writing pen
A flame of dark blue engulfs the pen in my shaking hand
Deja vu happens all over again and a picture frame falls from the night stand!
My head starts to spin and I close my eyes, hoping the dizziness will stop
The sin within becomes harder to disguise and down my cheek rolls a tear drop
A metamorphosis starts to take place and I see inside me, the raging energy
I feel the anguish, upon my face and emerging from obscurity comes my dark
poetry!
Like the color of hot blood, the ink becomes dark red
The sentences have begun to flood like written bloodshed!
Stanzas formulate and I concentrate on what I see in my mind's eye
My pen don't hesitate as I decapitate this poetic samurai!
I know I'm out to annihilate any foe that crosses my spiritual plane
The ink illuminates, setting this pad aglow and another poet is slain!
My writing pad catches fire as I commit the last barbaric homicide
The flames burn bright as sapphire distinguishing my poetic dark side...
*Visit me on MySpace, FaceBook and Poetry Pub (Jimmy M. Anderson)
Don't much like poetry
just can't see what purpose
poems are supposed to serve.
Why all the hype
about similies and metaphors
and iambic pentameter?
Or trying to rhyme
each and every cursed line
to describe an object
or a place or action
in flowery descriptive words
doesn't seem very realistic,
just overly idealistic.
It is quite an ordeal,
can't begin to express
just how I feel
having to compose
a poem that to me
just doesn't have a purpose!
A little explanation about this! Haven't suddenly turned anti-poetry ... This was the very
first poem written by me, at university for a writing course. At the time, I was miffed at
having to write a poem, something I despised at the time. Had no idea what to write, even
after a week, and with just a few hours to spare, finally came up with this poem...about
hating poetry. It is so hilarious to find myself many years later, writing poetry...and loving it!
These days my mind is a blank page.
This dreary weather offers no inspiration.
I dream of sun and warm sand on toes
And having fun in a far off destination.
I need some heat in my body and soul.
Someone to revive the spirit within me.
Too long I've lived under these overcast skies.
I long for the spring to set my heart free.
I wish for romance to blossom in spring.
To renew my soul with the budding new season.
It's time for some changes in life and attitude.
I've let this gloomy weather affect my reason.
A mental shake I will give myself,
No longer blame the weather for the state of my mind.
Around the corner spring is waiting for me
And just maybe a special someone, I will find.
My writing has been on a shelf for days now.
The pen left idle with nothing to do
But I need to dust it off and focus my mind
On lifting my spirits, start writing anew.
Some are written to tug at heart strings;
Some are written to tickle funny bones;
Some are written as romantic love themes;
Some are written about being all alone.
Diversity is my objective;
Creativity, my artistic aim;
I am just your regular average Joe,
With no credentials or writing fame.
I hide behind the mantra
That I write simply to please myself;
Not admitting out loud to anyone,
Dreams of poems adding to my wealth.
There are many others out there
Who behave just like me;
Pouring their souls into rhyming words
And calling it poetry.
Very few will be successful
And achieve wide acclaim,
But lacking recognition
We’ll all keep writing just the same.
So I’ll keep creating average poetry,
By a regular, average Joe,
And hang on to my day job,
But of my dream I won’t let go.
I have trouble writing in free verse
As though my Minds stuck in reverse
Every time I think of a rhyme
It is defiantly writing time
That’s something that will cause a stump
The rhythm can’t go bumpity bump
I am a simple country girl
Few fancy words go in the whirl
Not ignorant or uneducated
Just to my life style dedicated
I write from what is in my heart
Experiences that I played a part
Of faith and love and family
The things in life that we all see
The end result will be of my best
Anything less isn’t worth your request
It took me longer get Microsoft word open
than it took for me to get my first line typed
Approximately 3-4 minuses from start to finish
but I type 24-30 per minute due to physical
and visual handicaps
That's what writing is
A gift from God
Expressing one's heart
Being a poet is getting your very first start
Whether you write books, poems or articles
It's all the same
But watch out
Because you just might seek fame
Using your gift will help the world
Your writing will up lift many
So enjoy the moment
Of a life of plenty
Remember though to always keep God first
If you don't your life may be worse
Writing is a busy task
One that's difficult to do
But if you have faith in God
He'll give you the strength to
Continue to let the words flow
Whether they come out fast or slow
This creative art is one of a kind
Flowing gently from the heart and the mind
By: Donielle Smith