Tag: bad poetry

poetry

Erasure Poems

Sally15 Comments

The W3 challenge is: let’s write erasure poems.

“Erasure poetry, also known as blackout poetry, is a form of found poetry wherein a poet takes an existing text and erases, blacks out, or otherwise obscures a large portion of the text, creating a wholly new work from what remains.

“You might begin with an existing text or poem and shape something new by removing words, or write your own piece and then erase portions of it to reveal another layer. You could even place a poem over a work of art and present it visually as an erasure.”

When my oldest brother passed away, I found a couple of books where he had been doing this — blacking out whole pages and only leaving one or two words. It was fascinating. But, then, my oldest brother was literally a genius.

I don’t know what the heck I’m doing with this. Clearly.

I muddled through books yesterday and today trying to come up with something.

Here’s one:

Al
e
x
pre
tti
fought bravely
Can you see him?
Who is he?

Then I put in this (less than) valiant effort:

I do not know
I do not know
Do you know?
No, said the farmer’s wife

Do you know?
Why yes, I know

I know
Do you know?
I am going away
all alone
Good-by!

What does it all mean? I’m with the farmer’s wife. I do not know.

poetry

Stains

Sally9 Comments

Boy! Mustard,
Oil, gum, grease, tar. I’m flustered!
Nothing can remove this shirt
Dirt

It’s the W3 challenge. The PoW challenged us to write an Acrostic Poem using the word “BOND”. As a theme, she wanted the poem to be about something or someone we are bound to or share a bond with. Alternatively, we could write about two or more things that are bound together.

Can you think of a tighter bond than stains and fabric? Okay, okay — I’m sure there are lots, but still, a stain has quite a bond, right?

This is yet another Deibide Baise Fri Toin, an Irish form with an aabb rhyme scheme and syllable count of 3-7-7-1 for each stanza. The first two lines rhyme on a 2 syllable word and the last two lines rhyme on one syllable.

Honestly, I put my poem in the same category as the following poem which appeared in an old Adventures in Odyssey episode about a boy who was struggling with poetry assignments in school — you know, all that symbolism and metaphor nonsense. He was a brick and mortar type kid. He wrote the following poem about pants.

 I put on pants every day.
To go to school or to play.
I like pants.

Sometimes I wear pants of blue,
Or brown to go with my shoe.
I like pants.

Sometimes I feel sorry for ants.
Because they can’t wear pants.
I like pants.

Pants cover my legs so that I can go.
Without them I would be cold I know.
I like pants.
I like them so.

Blather · poetry

Two Roads — FWIW

Sally5 Comments

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
(I should be telling this with a sigh)
Stood at that fork and took it
Hey Yogi! Hey Raffi!
Look it! Look it! Look it!
You know what came next?
(What came next?)
A knife and spoon!
(clink, clink)
So I kept on walking down the road
With a fork-knife-spoon as my load

On Saturday I was supposed to go to a poetry reading. Mind you, I have done that only once before in my life and it was a terrifying experience. Thankfully an excuse presented itself and I bowed out. The friend who had invited me offered to read my poems for me. I gave her two — neither of which had been the poem I planned to read.

She messaged me later, telling me that the poems were well-received, that I was a rare talent.

To prove her wrong, I’m going to go ahead and publish last week’s tripe, my response to the W3 prompt. The POW gave a lovely challenge: to use 1-2 lines from Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.”

Unfortunately Yogi Berra infiltrated my brain regarding that poem. Yogi once said, “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.” It’s one of many Yogi-isms for which he is famous. Like, “It ain’t over, ’til it’s over,” and “You can observe a lot by watching.”

Suddenly, too, while writing, I was doing battle with Raffi, who kept singing at me (in my head) about a time he went for a walk.

Sheesh.

Sometimes the muses either just aren’t there or are a couple of clowns.

Anyone else struggle with this?

23 words · collage · Februllage

Boat

Sally3 Comments

Row-row-row a boat
It’s good exercise
Since Santa struggles with his weight
This option might be wise

#stupidpoemswewritetogetinourpostaday
#leftovercollagefromChristmas
#whichismoreimportantsavingfaceorpostingeveryday
#clearlynotsavingface
#writeyourownstupidpoemtogowiththispicture
#goaheadIdareyou

family · photography · poetry

Blonde

Sally11 Comments

Me — about 3

My hair was blonde when I was small
But it grew dark as I grew tall
My mother had the same thing too —
Blonde that darkened as she grew

’tis a funny thing — this natural blonde —
Some maintain, and don’t respond
To aging with six shades of brown
But old age gives its hoary crown

To all in silvery grayish white
Tresses giving up the fight
To stay the hue of summer sun
And let winter overrun

Vanity, you try my hair
But you won’t win ’cause I don’t care

In response to Daily Prompt: Rhyme

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Alphabet with a Twist – B

family · poetry

The Wreck of the Eliza

Sally4 Comments

 

An original Sea Shanty

Not the Eliza, but maybe similar

(1) Captain Hopkins had a schooner
Eliza was her name
Come hear the story of her wreck
“tis such a crying shame
She sailed out from Hyannis
In April 1899
Heavy seas when she departed
Though the morrow’s forecast fine

(2) Captain Hopkins had a worthy crew
Of 13 men with him
Many were related,
Brothers, cousins, kin —
Eliza had been prosperous
So the Captain laid aside
Money to soon build a house
For his sons and his bride

(3) Eliza made a quick run
Through Nantucket sound
The Great Round Shoal lightship
They sailed right around
The night was clear, but a relic
Of the Northwest gale that day
Made the seas a little choppy
Still it did not cause delay

(4) Course was set for Great Rip
Also called Nantucket Shoals
Captain Hopkins knew his way
All around these fishing holes
Two men were on watch
When they hit the Rose and Crown
A miscalculated shoal
That brought their lady down

(Chorus)
Hey, there, Cap’n Hopkins!
Climb aboard wi’ me!
But – No-ho, he shouted,
The dory won’t survive this sea

Hey, there, Cap’n Hopkins!
There’s room for all aboard!
But – No-ho, he shouted.
And the pleas were all ignored.

(5) A wave swept o’er Eliza
From her stem to stern
She was broken with one pound
The surf was all a-churn
While some men grabbed the rigging
The dory was prepared
To launch for this emergency
That their lives would be spared

(Chorus)

(6) A wave swept the dory
Right off the deck
Three men fought to right her
And keep her by the wreck
“Come on board,” they shouted
To the remaining crew
Cap’n, he refused to go
And the others followed suit.

(Chorus)

(7) The dory, she was stove in —
Two men rowed, the other bailed
And they stayed right near Eliza
To save the crew, but failed —
The onboard crew refused them
“That dory is too small
Dawn will be here soon
We’ll be seen and save-d all.”

(Chorus)

(8) The men in the dory
Stayed the whole night through
Listening, hoping, praying
To know what they should do
But when dawn’s rays illuminated
Here’s what met their eyes:
The schooner gone to pieces
And nobody survived.

(Chorus)

(9)They rowed that broken dory
Through the Rose and Crown
Bailing water constantly
Till they came in sight of town
And so these three were rescued:
Nickerson, Miller, Doane,
But oh, dear Captain Hopkins –
Why didn’t you come home?

(Chorus)

*****

Based on the true story of my great-grandfather, a fishing boat captain who died at age 37, going down with his schooner, the Eliza.

A to Z Blogging Challenge

Queen

Sally6 Comments

PICT0353

My mum and dad, they met the queen.
(Do I sound Bri-ish? sayin’ “mum,” I mean?)
He wore full-dress uniform, squeaky clean.
A dashing couple, right?

Her dress was made of gold lamé –
Her shoes were gold, or so they say –
And with opera gloves, they were on their way
To a very memorable night.

SCN_0072 (1)

They saved the invite all this time
(The name’s erased — prevent identity crime)
And that is the end of this pitiful rhyme.
So “Q” is done now. Quite.

 

A to Z Blogging Challenge · poetry

Heart

Sally8 Comments

In a hurry this morning — but don’t want to fall behind in my A to Z postings.

A ditty has been running through my head since accompanying my father for his echocardiogram.

The screen looked similar to ones I knew from pregnancy ultrasounds, but no baby..IMG_8547

I had written a more thoughtful piece about a visit to the cardiologist several months ago.

Then I turned the ditty in my head into a bad poem that I posted for a couple of days. Subscribers would have seen it. (And, really, I’m so sorry!)

It was so cheesy that I took it down.

I’d much rather you read “The Cardiologist.”

poetry

Hey Canada – Aboot some of your words….

Sally5 Comments

There are strange things said, or at least so I’ve read,
By the neighbors up north of  U. S.
It’s more than just “-eh”. What I’m trying to say
Is there’s lingo I need to address.
They have one dollar loonies and two dollar toonies,
And couches are called Chesterfields;
A kilometre’s a click, a hoser’s a hick,
And a parkade is for parking your wheels.

XYay Tims!
Anna said, “Tim Hortons. Serving sub-par coffee and donuts since 1964, this fast-food type chain also serves bagels, chili, and sandwiches and is a strong Canadian icon. I almost cried in the Toronto airport when I was 14, returning from my first big overseas trip. It meant I was home. Stop by and order a double-double (regular coffee with two creams and two sugars) and be sure to ask someone about their Roll Up the Rim Campaign every March!”

’tis really no trouble to understand double-double-
One coffee – two sugars, two creams.
Electricity is hydro. Donair is a gyro.
Washroom means bathroom, it seems.
Poutine, I have heard, means fries, gravy and curds,
And while that sounds kind of yucky to me
I could stomach that dish – hey, it might be delish!
But I was shocked that they switched out my zee.

Just why do I feel that zee’s a big deal?
It is ’cause my name begins there.
I say “zee as in zebra” when I’m spelling to people
How to write it – a simple affair.
But still they say Daengle, instead of Zaengle
For them, I say “zee”, they hear “dee.”
Zed — it could help there, so listeners would not err
When distinguishing the good letter zee.

Yes, they use different words, these Canadian birds.
Like commotions are called kerfuffles.
When you awaken, they may serve you back-bacon,
And they carry knapsacks, not duffles.
They buy Timbits at Timmies. (Do they use sprinkles or jimmies?)
But, O Canada, this needs to be said —
Even though you say decal* — hey, what the heck, I’ll
Say thank you for making zee zed!

pronounced “deck-ul”