Month: July 2015

Posted on

Reverse [Classic] (4+4 lines each)

I don’t remember doing this, but I found some poems that I’ve written where I made them rhyme in reverse. You’ll see what I mean below.

Cat by a cage
Canary sees it
Same canary
Satisfies cat

which reverses to (say it out loud)

Egac a yb tac
Ti sees yranac
Yranac emas
Tac seifsitas

Note that the first part of the word in each line is the same, and that the syllables align — which rhymes if read backwards. Here are some more. Forward, they all sound like pidgin english.

Hole to be dug
How can we do it?
Rock won’t quite work
Roll it down the hill

Liver and peas
Lived together
Peas ate liver
Peapod now empty

which reverse to

Gud eb ot eloh
Ti od ew nac woh?
Krow etiuq t’now kcor
Llih eht nwod ti llor

Saep eht dna revil
Rehtegot devil
Revil eta saep
Ytpme won dopaep

Posted on

Almost Famous – 1

It’s interesting — as I’m flipping through my old writings, I occasionally need to google what I’m looking at to ensure it is original. It’s not like I’m that good or anything, it’s just that I have a tendency to occasionally write down other poems or song lyrics that click with me, so I sometimes have other people’s work mixed in with my own. Plus I’ve written so much stuff so long ago that I don’t always remember having written it. One such example is The Friggin Falcon (link), which I love as a poem, but seems to lack as a song in every version that I’ve heard. I wish wish wish that I had written it. To me, it sounds like something that I might have.

ADDENDUM: I reread posted info on The Friggin Falcon, and discovered that: (1) it was written by the science fiction author Theodore Cogswell, and (2) it was written as a poem and not a song. This last fact makes me feel better when I’m critical of musical versions that I’ve heard.

Posted on

The Preacher’s Chair [Classic plus] (32 line poem)

Time to break out one of my full-blown, longer poems. I’ve labeled it ‘classic plus’ because, though I originally wrote it years ago, I’ve ‘stayed in touch’ with it over the years, occasionally rewriting/refining the wording to improve it. My goal has been to take a dozen or so of my complete, longer poems and connect them with a coherent narrative — with the result being something structured like Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland or Through the Looking Glass. I suspect that Lewis Carroll may have followed a similar path — taking a set of poems he had written, extracting the characters, and creating a story around them which allowed the poems themselves to be included.

As the Joker said, “and…here…we…go”

The Preacher comes to visit us
A dozen times a week.
He comes so bless-ed often,
And Lordy does he speak!
At night or noon or morning
You’ll likely find him there;
Screaming out his warning
Astride the Preacher’s Chair.

The Preacher’s Chair is empty
When the Preacher ain’t around.
Grandpa used to sit there
‘Fore the Preacher came to town.
But the Preacher’s got the recipe
For emptying that seat –
Don’t tell the Preacher ‘bout your sins,
He knows when to repeat!

The Preacher talks to Jimmy –
How he lectures to that lad!
Tells him that he’ll go to Blazes
‘Cause he’s been so bad.
But Mama thinks that Jimmy,
He’s been good beyond compare.
And someday when the Preacher’s gone
He’ll fill the Preacher’s Chair.

The Preacher’s Chair is gone now,
But it’ll soon be back.
The Preacher still comes all the time,
And Lordy does he yack!
Now when the Preacher needs to sit,
He can do it anywhere.
‘Cause Jimmy spread a pot of glue
Upon the Preacher’s Chair!

Posted on

Lorn [Classic + New] (unfinished poem)

Another old snippet to which I’ve added a few lines, but I’m not sure where it’s going.

The story I now tell to you is not of hate or fear
But bravery beyond compare, and at a price too dear
‘Twas ten and seven years ago that Frederick Godsend died
And ten and seven years ‘fore that — he wed his fateful bride

Her beauty lit the evening stars. Her kindness knew no peer.
Their love, the stuff of legends; though his jealousy, severe.

Posted on

The Further Adventures of Tweedledum and Tweedledee [Classic/New] (42 line poem)

Tweedledum and Tweedledee are characters from Lewis Carroll’s Alice books. Note that Damascus is not a seaport, which only adds to the lunacy.

Old poem, recently finished.

What got the writing of this poem going was the subtle alliterative wordplay in the first few lines.

“Not the mad, nor the damned,
“Nor the damned mad
“Will carry M’dam to Damascus.
“As for us,” said we,
“For a minimal fee,
“We’ll ferry you there if you ask us.”

She looked on with doubt
As our ears flapped about
And our smiles slowly broadened to grins
“I do need the ride,”
She saw fit to confide,
“But I hear there is danger in twins.”

“Do not fear, do not fret.
“You won’t even get wet.
“As our boat is surprisingly sound.
“It was made from a pail
“With swiss cheese for a sail.
“Only half of our crewmen have drowned.”

We set off at noon
By the light of the moon
Hoping to get there by dawn
We were in a hurry
Which caused her some worry
But we lessened her stress with a yawn

Halfway to our goal
We encountered a hole
On the top of the head of a whale
It was pulling us in
Be we saved with a spin
And continued our path without fail

The ocean was rough
Which made sailing quite tough
Though the boat mostly progressed as planned
It took us a while
But we maintained a smile
And eventually made it to land

She paid us our fare
As she flipped back her hair
And we carried her luggage ashore
We waved her goodbye
With a wink in our eye
And moved on to collect even more

Posted on

Shoot [New] (12 line poem)

The sentry keeps his lonely watch
With clear instructions
‘Shoot to kill’

The soldier marches tirelessly
And finds himself
Atop the hill

The sentry aims
The sentry fires
The shot rings loud and clear

The soldier drops
But was he hit?
The shot was true, wasn’t it?

Posted on

Funny

I considered adding separate categories for funny poetry vs. serious poetry (note that you can filter what category of post you are viewing), but I’ve realized that I have some poems that I’m not sure which they are — funny or serious. What does that say about me?

Posted on

Reminder

When the post title includes ‘classic’ it means it’s something that I wrote years ago. I’ve got boatloads of old stuff and, as I type them up here (many are handwritten or typed on a typewriter), I notice that most of my old stuff is silly and/or gruesome. ‘Morbid’ is an accurate word. For example, I was just glancing at a poem about someone seeking revenge on some people who hurt him, so he kills them, then kills himself so he can torment them forever in Hell. Hmm.

I’ve got to ensure that I balance creating new stuff with typing up old stuff. Old is fun, but new allows me an active outlet for my creativity.

Posted on

The Man I Thought I Knew [Classic] (16 line poem)

Though no one knew just how he felt
They could have told you how he smelt
He looked as though about to melt
The man I thought I knew

No one knew just why he stayed
Many hoped the smell would fade
He smelled like something long decayed
The man I thought I knew

The way they spoke was very rude
He did not care how he was viewed
He never seemed to change his mood
The man I thought I knew

But now the man has passed away
But talk of him remains today
His memory will always stay
The man I thought I knew