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Feb 2, 2020 08:56
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| # ¿ May 14, 2024 14:41 |
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cda posted:In You rear end in a top hat, now all I can think of is I will never write anything half as good so why bother. Larkin is great.
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Feb 3, 2020 18:18
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Sorry Sorry, kid: we can’t call Grandma (Not tonight and not tomorrow, nor beyond, And it breaks my heart you’re asking With that dimple smile of which she was so fond.) I know we saw her last month, kid (And she cuddled you and rocked you while we ate Never knew you stay so quiet, kid Or to finish every mouthful from your plate.) She won’t sing your favourite song, kid (That’s the only way to make you take your meds When the songs I sing are wrong, kid And our clothes are stained and nerves are all in shreds.) I’m not saying no out of spite, kid (And it’s taking all the patience that I’ve got To not react to that bite, kid, To make soothing sounds and clean up all the snot.) I can’t make you understand, kid (Even though we had the funeral today You mostly wanted to run off, kid And you thought that everyone was there to play.) Sorry, kid: we can’t call Grandma (And drat the picture on the pamphlet on the pew That made you remember Grandma When she will nevermore remember you.)
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Feb 6, 2020 23:33
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Congrats rickiep00h prooooooooooompt
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Feb 8, 2020 23:42
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sephiRoth IRA posted:I’m not saying those people didn’t deserve to win, it’s more akin to “I am trash, will always be trash, into the landfill with me” All the greatest artists are tortured souls, so you're just fitting in! I'll judge the brawl. To offset the fairly wrenching prompt we've just had, I want to see pleasant poems about wholesome nature things like trees or brooks. Extra credit if you fit in a pleasant meter such as iambs or anapaests and some sort of rhyming scheme. E: deadline is midnight GMT next Saturday I guess Maugrim fucked around with this message at 02:28 on Feb 9, 2020 |
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Feb 9, 2020 02:17
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Fair crit, thanks Saucy, no complaints there! What I do object to is that after explicitly forbidding free verse you gave the win to the only submission written in free verse. This is stupid and I want to brawl you for it. Rickiep00h, nobody can steal your prompt! I just stepped up to judge a minor side contest.
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Feb 9, 2020 08:23
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A lot can depend on accent. In my accent (non-rhotic, close to British RP) I'm more comfortable treating fire as one syllable than two "The fire had fed my furious lust" is 8 syllables (four iambs) to me But I'd be OK reading "the fire made me furious" as eight syllables too if that was required to make sense of a poem's metre. E: personally i would go so far as to say individual syllables are meaningless to poetic form except insofar as they are used to make the feet, which are the true building blocks of metre. I think this is why I don't accept that rickie's poem isn't free verse - breaking the lines into ten syllables doesn't change how it's read, and without those breaks it's (admittedly nice) prose. So my brawl challenge remains open Maugrim fucked around with this message at 20:49 on Feb 9, 2020 |
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Feb 9, 2020 20:33
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rickiep00h posted:In the interest of not being a snooty elitist I'm going going to respond except to say that I don't think we understand poetic formalism (or line breaks!) in remotely the same terms. Please do school me, I'm here to learn! PM me if you like. Or don't. In for the prompt. What time zone is the deadline?
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Feb 10, 2020 02:10
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I get the not wanting to derail so I'll just echo thanks for the thoughtful/thought-provoking post and reading recommendations. I personally enjoy the process of wrestling words into formal structures and have a strong preference for reading poems with simple lyrical metre but that doesn't at all mean I look down on other forms. I was just absolutely convinced that what you'd written was free verse and I guess you've persuaded me otherwise. 
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Feb 10, 2020 10:36
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Thank you for your submissions, both of which I have enjoyed. Judgement will be forthcoming this evening.
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Feb 13, 2020 15:28
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Azza BambiRoth IRA brawl judgement: This is close! As I start writing this, I don't yet know who I'm going to award the win to, although I have an initial slight favourite. I enjoyed both poems and both more-or-less hit the prompt. sephiRoth IRA - Branch Promise Interesting title, odd enough that it made me look for some kind of wordplay, although if it's there I'm not clever enough to find it. From the mention of glacier at the start I assumed this was a coniferous forest in a cold country, but then later you mention oak and elm which typically inhabit temperate biomes. After many readings, I still didn't feel like I'd fully grasped the story you're telling - at least not from the words themselves. Fortunately, there's more to this than just the words. This poem is largely written in trochees - a foot consisting of a stressed, then an unstressed syllable, the reverse of an iamb. Where iambs are free-flowing, bouncing you easily onto the stressed syllables, trochees are ponderous, weighty, grandiose. Which isn't what I asked for in the prompt - but I forgive you, because it's a perfect choice for the poem you've written. It evokes the unstoppable march of the seasons, the slow heartbeat of the forest. Combine that with the sonorous vowel sounds you've incorporated, and this poem echoed in my head in the booming voice of an ent. It's a reflection on the long slow existence of trees, with a hint of the promise of spring. quote:Creak and thrum, the forest groans. Azza Bamboo - As Spring Comes A much more straightforward offering in terms of the story it tells, and appealing to me as a lover of hill walking. You've got one big stumble in the rhythm, and several cases of awkward wording and word order to try and retain the rhythm. But you've also got some pleasing imagery and I liked your final couplet a lot. quote:Exchange of seasons over rolling moors. Adjectives! You've got lots of them. In places where you've got several on the same noun, the ordering often seems to go a bit skew-whiff, even when it's not necessary to fit the metre. I don't know if this is a deliberate attempt to sound more poetic, but it's probably best avoided. Here's Mark Forsyth in The Elements of Eloquence, a lovely little book I happen to have on my desk here, in the chapter on hyperbaton (the rhetorical trick of messing with word order): Mark Forsyth posted:John Ronald Reuel Tolkien wrote his first story aged seven. It was about a 'green great dragon'. He showed it to his mother who told him that you absolutely couldn't have a green great dragon, and that it had to be a great green one instead. Tolkien was so disheartened that he never wrote another story for years. (The whole book is written like this, it's such an easy read and I thoroughly recommend it.) gently caress, I've really gone on here haven't I? Okay, here's your judgement. sephiRoth IRA takes the win because, for me, their poem evoked a consistent mood and used the metre to support the content really well. But Azza's poem has plenty of good in it too. Thanks guys. Maugrim fucked around with this message at 01:26 on Feb 14, 2020 |
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Feb 14, 2020 01:03
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The example he created with the whittling knife is over-egged for the sake of humour, frankly. When you have that many adjectives you sound insane regardless of the order! It's easier if you just look at two adjectives - the "green great dragon" example (which is why I expanded the standard meme quote to include it). If phrases like "green great dragon", "old little lady", or "whittling French knife" don't sound odd to you, there may be something unusual about the way you process language. I'm not gonna tell you to sit down with a list every time you use multiple adjectives, don't worry. At any rate the three examples in your poem - "golden waving wheat", "green emerging stalks", "blue open sky" - are less egregious than any of those, they sound subtly wrong to my ear but not insanely wrong. Maugrim fucked around with this message at 09:17 on Feb 14, 2020 |
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Feb 14, 2020 09:10
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The Treasures of Peterborough Abbey pronunciation guide for non-British readers: Ely – “Ee lee” Peterborough – “Peter bruh” William of Normandy strides into England: he swears he is rightful king - takes the land promised him - All know these measures. Four years later he orders a travesty: from all the monasteries in that fair land to seize all of their treasures. Hereward – outlaw he – camped on the isle of Ely, hears of the monarch’s plan – summons his outlaw band, sails to the abbey. “As I love God,” quoth he, “No cur of Normandy shall have the smallest pin sacred to God within Peterborough Abbey.” Monks they refuse his plea, suffer him no entry: so from the walls they dash, burn all the town to ash, burn the monks’ houses. Through burning gates they break, drive out the monks, and take crown of the Lord divine, crucifix, coin and shrine, golden and silver. Drag they this hoard from there – haul it to Ely, where Danish ships bear it forth back to their homeland north, safe in church stow it. Afterwards through their own carelessness, and through their drunkenness, in [but] one night the church and all that was therein was consumed by fire. - From the Peterborough Chronicle, A.D. 1070 – as translated here
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Feb 17, 2020 01:16
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I just realised the sub deadline was changed to tonight so I didn't have to rush that O wel
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Feb 17, 2020 10:34
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Thank you for the crit! I didn't like the prompt much at first (couldn't think of anything I wanted to document) but I actually enjoyed learning about this kind of poetry, and I learned some history in the process of writing it. Which I'm sure was your intention. Good stuff. Prooooompt
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Feb 18, 2020 22:22
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Sounds fun, I'm in
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Jun 1, 2020 21:44
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Fizzicky fozzicky Werner Karl Heisenberg claimed you can't measure both placement and speed; Only applies to the submicroscopical never mind protests of drivers on weed.
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Jun 15, 2020 20:55
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Oh! I wasn't expecting that. Right then, let me crack open my copy of The Elements of Eloquence to a random page... "Personification". That'll do. Prosopopoeia if we want to get highfalutin. Best used in little doses to create vivid unexpected images; Iago posted:O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; Tends to get a bit silly if you carry on for much longer. Well, let's try it anyway! I don't mind a bit of silly. Pick an abstract concept and personify it in verse. I'm not going to dictate form but let's keep it snappy: max of either 8 lines or 60 words, whichever you prefer (yes, that means you can have 8 lines of 100 words each if you really want). If you want me to assign you your subject, you can request a flash rule. No porn. After last week in Thunderdome I feel a need to specify that. Signups close Wednesday 24th June. Judgement will occur on Wednesday 1st July, but if everyone submits early then I'll judge early.
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Jun 17, 2020 14:32
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Okay I guess that was a poo poo prompt! Signups will remain open until the submission deadline (end of next Tuesday) and I will also accept acrostic poems or limericks on any topic.
Maugrim fucked around with this message at 10:32 on Jun 23, 2020 |
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Jun 23, 2020 10:30
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Yep, signups are so open you hardly even need to do it. Just post your poem personifying an abstract concept, or a limerick or acrostic poem on any topic, by the time I check the thread on Wednesday!
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Jun 26, 2020 12:27
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Welp I guess it's Wednesday With a grand total of one entry I declare The Juggernaut our... Wait what's this The Juggernaut posted:Spoken word, Thus dies the Pretty certain that's no limerick. Opens - S.. i.. t.. p.. T.. a.. I.. Endings - d.. r.. m.. s.. f.. d.. t.. Meaningful acrostic this is not. Dumb I may be (seriously, I'd be Overjoyed to be corrected) but My poor brain can't find a person here. Ergo, poem does not meet the prompt. (While I have to disqualify you, I will say thanks for submitting something! I did enjoy your poem, just couldn't see how it fit the constraints.)
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Jul 1, 2020 17:05
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| # ¿ May 14, 2024 14:41 |
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All good. I don't know where poemdome goes from here though. I guess if OP turns up or enough people want to kick it off again... Or if The Juggernaut wants to go ahead and hit us with a prompt?
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Jul 3, 2020 22:39
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