Was reading Simian Farmer the other day, and came across his post about Fibonacci Poetry. Seems neat. Think I'll give it a try.
Wrote this one right away, while I was waiting for Flat Scalzi to arrive at my place.
I
wait
for the
postman to
ring, no more than once,
for twice would be disheartening.
I don't want drama or intrigue here, just Flat Scalzi.
Later, I gave it a little bit of thought, and came up with this.
Spring
dawn
arrives,
resplendent,
transforming ashen
branches with bright swaths of colour.
Whaddaya think?
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Hay(na)ku
"Hay(na)Ku" is a poetry form invented by Eileen Tabios in 2003. Click here for a basic primer and some samples. Quite simply, it is a three line poem, inspired by the Japanese Haiku form, that has one word on the first line, two on the second, and three on the third. Number of syllables is not counted, and rhymes are not required. Here are some of my early attempts:
Winter
Sun shines
On snowy dog.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unblinking
Staring eyes
Go away cat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
What
Is the
Definition of life?
Is
It simply
A beating heart?
Or
Is there
Some thing more?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Always
Another room
Endless home improvements.
via Wil at Snoozelets.
tags:Poetry
Winter
Sun shines
On snowy dog.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unblinking
Staring eyes
Go away cat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
What
Is the
Definition of life?
Is
It simply
A beating heart?
Or
Is there
Some thing more?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Always
Another room
Endless home improvements.
via Wil at Snoozelets.
tags:Poetry
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
majik
Another magnet poetry attempt. This one is an experiment, and I would very much like to hear your comments on it. To play along, visit the Poetry Dance Hall.
tags:Poetry, Poetry Dance
tags:Poetry, Poetry Dance
Monday, March 13, 2006
Espresso buzz
Look! The Poetry Dance Hall is once again open for business. Step up to the wickets, and buy your tickets, folks. Two dances for a dollar.
This week Dawn has challenged us to come up with some fridge magnet poetry. If you've been around, you'll know I've done some of that before. Here is a new one for this latest dance. Check back later, 'cause I'll probably have more.
tags:Poetry, Poetry Dance
This week Dawn has challenged us to come up with some fridge magnet poetry. If you've been around, you'll know I've done some of that before. Here is a new one for this latest dance. Check back later, 'cause I'll probably have more.
tags:Poetry, Poetry Dance
Friday, March 10, 2006
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Where, exactly, is Nantucket?
The other day I was helping my son with his english homework. He had to compose a verse in that highest of all forms of poetry: the limerick. While he was working, I came up with a few of my own.
Young Matthew was considered quite bright.
His test answers were commonly right.
His parents' concern,
It might please you to learn,
Was that he reads without turning on the light.
The teacher's new class of grade six
Find themselves in quite a big fix.
Their homework, it seems,
Isn't up to his dreams.
If they're not careful, a field trip he'll nix.
Matt's parents, his mother and father,
Concerned with his bent to wool-gather,
Have lowered the boom;
Locked him in his room.
Said Matt, quoting Pooh, "Oh, bother!"
Yes, I know gather doesn't rhyme with father, or bother. Just consider it poetic license, OK? Either that, or read it in a Boston accent. Also, forgive me for the Springsteenism.
Here are a couple that are less topical.
There was an old man named Gerard,
Whose breakfast was bread fried in lard.
His wife to him said,
"I'm surprised you're not dead,
Because your arteries, I'm sure, are quite hard."
The young video gamer, he beams,
He's discovered the girl of his dreams.
Her gaming is sweet,
Her hacking skillz, 1337,
And her t-shirt, it bursts at the seams.
tags:Family, Poetry
Young Matthew was considered quite bright.
His test answers were commonly right.
His parents' concern,
It might please you to learn,
Was that he reads without turning on the light.
The teacher's new class of grade six
Find themselves in quite a big fix.
Their homework, it seems,
Isn't up to his dreams.
If they're not careful, a field trip he'll nix.
Matt's parents, his mother and father,
Concerned with his bent to wool-gather,
Have lowered the boom;
Locked him in his room.
Said Matt, quoting Pooh, "Oh, bother!"
Yes, I know gather doesn't rhyme with father, or bother. Just consider it poetic license, OK? Either that, or read it in a Boston accent. Also, forgive me for the Springsteenism.
Here are a couple that are less topical.
There was an old man named Gerard,
Whose breakfast was bread fried in lard.
His wife to him said,
"I'm surprised you're not dead,
Because your arteries, I'm sure, are quite hard."
The young video gamer, he beams,
He's discovered the girl of his dreams.
Her gaming is sweet,
Her hacking skillz, 1337,
And her t-shirt, it bursts at the seams.
tags:Family, Poetry
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