Half way through the challenge! For June we have a Limerick, a very popular and well known poetry method.
There is a lovely sunny month called June
Filled with many a lazy hazy afternoon
You're having a laugh
Likely you need a raft
Because it always rains a monsoon!
Here we go, I’m sure these months are getting shorter. This month another style to tackle.
A clerihew has the following properties: It is biographical and usually whimsical, showing the subject from an unusual point of view; it mostly pokes fun at famous people. It has four lines of irregular length and metre for comic effect and has a rhyme structure is AABB; the subject matter and wording are often humorously contrived in order to achieve a rhyme, including the use of phrases in Latin, French and other non-English languages.
The first line contains, and may consist solely of, the subject’s name. According to a letter in The Spectator in the 1960s, Bentley said that a true clerihew has to have the name “at the end of the first line”, as the whole point was the skill in rhyming awkward names.
A well known example being – Sir Christopher Wren
Said, “I am going to dine with some men.
If anyone calls
Say I am designing St Paul’s”
So here are my attempts.
King Charles the third
"This crown is absurd
So heavy one fears
It'll just sit on one's ears"
~~~
Camilla the Queen 'Consort'
A title, insult and retort
Causing such strife
As mistress and wife.
~~~
Charles and Camilla
Appear quite vanilla
Leaked phone calls broadcast
A quite salacious past!
I’ll just take myself to the Tower, I know the way I’ve been there before 😬
I set myself a doozy of a challenge this time. I blame Google and the rabbit hole of “types of poetry” search.
Villanelle is another very old form of poetry that came from France and has lots of rules. It is made up of 19 lines; five stanzas of three lines (tercet) each and a final stanza of four lines (quatrain). As you can see from the rhyme scheme; ABA ABA ABA ABA ABA ABAA, this type of poem only has two rhyming sounds. Plus, there is a lot of repetition throughout the villanelle. Line one will be repeated in lines six, 12 and 18; and line three will be repeated in lines nine, 15 and 19. So although this takes out the extra work of having to write 19 individual lines, the real challenge is to make meaning out of those repeated lines.
When April is remembered for its showers sprinkling
Washing the seedlings awake
And the Easter Bunny with eyes twinkling
Thoughts of garden parties bring
Sumptuous BBQ's of sausages and steak
When April is remembered for its showers sprinkling
Amassing eggs into the garden for hiding
Excited little hands to find and take
And The Easter Bunny with eyes twinkling
Maybe a spot of seaside esplanade strolling
Melting ice cream with a crumbly flake
When April is remembered for its showers sprinkling
The aromatic minted lamb roasting
And afternoon tea with toasted teacake
And The Easter Bunny with eyes twinkling
Seasonal attractions begin opening
Days out of fun and excitement to partake
When April is remembered for its showers sprinkling
And The Easter Bunny with eyes twinkling
I shall now go and lie down in a darkened room, lol. Happy Easter everyone ðŸ«
March marches boldly
Roars it's way in windily
Creeps out sheepishly
Haiku is a type of short form poetry originally from Japan. Traditional Japanese haiku consist of three phrases composed of 17 phonetic units (called on in Japanese, which are similar to syllables) in a 5, 7, 5 pattern; that include a kireji, or “cutting word”; and a kigo, or seasonal reference. Similar poems that do not adhere to these rules are generally classified as senryÅ«. There is no exact equivalent of kirejiin in English, and its function can be difficult to define. It is said to supply structural support to the verse.
I don’t know if there is a posh term for this style of poem. Anyways my effort for this month. See ya next month!
I’ve decided to set myself a little challenge for the year. Each month I will create a poem relating to that month, different styles, differing contexts. Nothing too too taxing, probably dull and doubtful of proficiency but *blows-raspberry and sticks up two fingers, one finger if you’ve really pissed me off*
January – acrostic
January drags
All bare and dark
Never ending nights
Uninviting and stark
Adverse weather
Reducing our spark
Yearning for Spring
A number of years ago I put together a poem about the stress of the Christmas period Festive Stress. I’ve had some amazing Yule Tides at home through my childhood, teenage, and young adult life and had an awesome adventurous one away sailing but as I age and deteriorate I find the pressure to meet the joyous expectations more and more anxious riddled and not being physically capable of getting stuck in very difficult to accept. Anyway I’ve had another ramble through the rhyming world…..
I’m not a Christmas grinch, I just don’t feel the draw
I’m not a Christmas humbug, I just can’t do it anymore
The expectation to get excited, be festive and merry
The stress the season employs, I’m not prepared to carry
Shopping trips round crowded stores, people all jostling
Worrying over gifts ideas, the getting and the wrapping
Writing letters with a positive spin, that cramp my hands strained
Wondering if there’s been a death of which I haven’t learned
Watching all the Christmas specials a sensation begins to rise
It chokes me in my throat and brings many tears to my eyes
Thoughts of gatherings in the past, of staying up until day break
Maybe it’s grief of family died and my loss of ability to partake
I’m quite content in my own space, I’m happy in my own company
Knowing others are celebrating, playing games, chatting bubbily
I don’t feel excluded as I enjoy my Pringles and Brazil nuts
Hoping my kin are feasting heartily on roasts and cold cuts
Excuse me as I politely decline all sincere requests
It gets too overwhelming, makes me an anxious guest
I send you all heaps of Christmas greetings that pass into New Year
From my comfy sofa where I’m warm and in good cheer
Ne’er cast ya clout til May is out. Ha! With the great British weather as it is, I’m na’ casting out my clout regardless of the month. Soo in April there was a frost somewhere every dang night, chilly you say, well it would seem so. Friday morning as carer arrived, in the time it took her to get from car to my door there was rain-heavy rain- hail, chunks of stinging balls of ice! Mother Nature is off her meds again, or her grandkids flipped her calendar back to February.
So … how are things? Been anywhere? Looking forward to being out and about with the great unwashed? I know what you mean, it’s too peopley out there *shudder*
I scrolled back to my list, can you believe it was as far back as 20th March! Time has done it’s thing, still feeling a bit groundhog but the days are lighter for longer. Anyway, as they say, previously
So my to do list is lacking the mastermind effort (I’ve started so I’ll finish). In my defence April got taken over with writing a poem everyday and reading all the other excellent, poignant, hilarious, rude, epic verses.
May, I have decided will be crochet month, each day I will do some, hopefully getting a blanket to grow across a week, maybe a toy or two across the weekend. Ohh, I wrote a poem about that…..
I'm a little hooker
Not short nor stout
Sometimes I swear
Often I pout
You mucky minded readers
Keep your trap shut
It's not what you're thinking
None of your smut
Yarn over, pull through
Yarn over, pull through two,
Front post, half double,
Twiddle deftly is what I do
Blankets for the pussy cats
Toys of fish and mice
A gift to Cats Protection
Because I'm really nice
I must admit there were times went I felt myself going mildly cuckoo as I wrangled to make things rhyme or when rhyming couplets spewed forth like a native second language. Still, I have completed the challenge, a poem per day.
Last time I bored you with a few of my attempts. Well buckle in dear reader, here we go…again!
Our lovely group leader posted a picture of a fun fare, think charactered postcard, as a prompt to rhyme.
Yesterday at the funfair, There was so much to do
Throwing for coconuts, Hooking a duck or two
Crash banging on the dodgems, Screaming at the ghost
Stopped atop the Ferris wheel, Sure scared me the most
Eating hot dogs and candy floss, Galloping around the carousel
Sliding down the helter skelter, I started to feel unwell
With all that motion and excitement, The injested sugar and grease
My inside started to heave, It had to be released
Sorry Mr Tristrum I tried my very best
Apologies for spewing all down your bright striped vest.
Another bright thought in the wee hours, triggered by a podcast I was falling asleep to
I love an oxymoron they often make me laugh
Like being 'slightly pregnant', or choosing the 'larger half'
Being 'weirdly normal', when you're 'clearly misunderstood'
My 'unbiased opinion' tell me these are 'terribly good'
I feel your 'deafening silence', hear your 'dull roar'
From 'growing small' with 'intense apathy', wait I have more
How 'awfully good' was that 'crash landing'
What about a 'civil war' or being 'found missing'
It really is the 'living end' how 'seriously funny' these get
'Good grief', it is 'properly ridiculous' and yet
They're 'openly deceptive' and leave 'only choice'
Our language is ridiculous But it's our only voice
I found the challenge of haiku and fib syllable patterns quite enjoyable.
One
Nine
Thirty
Twenty six
Forty four, sixteen
Bugger, no Jackpot win, again
As for the last day, well…….
When April returns in 2022
Wanting another each day
You can if you want to
I'll be running the other way!
I’ve kept all my creations in a document, after a month or four I’ll re-read them and groan, maybe blush a little that I put them in public view.
April is National Poetry Month, across the cyber world people attempt to grapple and wrangle with their language to conjure something of power, of poignancy, or amusement. Poetry is one of those forms that has many variations, from the syllable structure of hiaku, tanka and fib, the free form structure (isn’t that a contradiction terms, an oxymoron), limerick, sonnet, the list goes on.
Many moons ago in the blogging days of the defunct bcuk.com a group of us would game play with words, write short stories, poems, enjoy the weekly Friday fives, Wednesday wordle and alike. A few of us are in a private Facebook group and have been enticed (read cajoled) into taking part in the write a poem everyday.
Now I am no bard, I struggle enough just writing a blog. My levels of imagination swing between non-existent to fleeting sparks. Yet somehow I seem to have ended up joining in and I might admit begrudgingly that one or two of my attempts ain’t too too bad. I shall now proceed to bore you all with a few, please feel free to vacate now if you wish.
Let’s start with a light limerick
There once was a man from Nantucket
Who was troubled by the hole in his bucket
Eliza suggested
Henry then tested
Until they conceded to chuck it
A haiku follows a syllable pattern of 5-7-5.
Procrastination
Is my new occupation
Until tomorrow
A fib poem follows the syllable pattern 1-1-2-3-5-8, and I was attempting one when the death of HRH The Prince Phillip, Duke of Edinburgh was announced
Gone
Dead
Grieving
Such a brain
Such a character
None like him will be seen again
The acrostic style is where the first letter of each line spells something out
Nonchalant
Openly inquisitive
Through my window creeps
Mannered and quiet
Yet expecting
Chair, blanket or lap
And caresses on head and chin
This cat of not mine
There there is the more traditional comfortable style
Fight The Rhyme, is the new rallying call
We'll storm the libraries, we'll march to Whitehall.
April has been high jacked, It's becoming quite the strain
More addictive than hippie crack, the effort quite the drain.
It's sneaky and enticing, You're teased with a simple ploy
Just a few to start with, to release those endorphins of joy.
A little harmless game, it's fun, a poem a day
Before you know it you're caught, and with headaches you pay.
I am here to make a stand, to stop this engulfing all of us
If you need help, reach out, to Poets Anonymous.
Websites like thesaurus.com, rhymezone.com and syllablecounter.net have seen their hit rate sky rocket into the stratosphere.
Right then, off to wrestle with tomorrow’s attempt.
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| menhir1 on May – Poem(s) |
| menhir1 on May – Poem(s) |
| menhir1 on May – Poem(s) |
Just Me, Nobody Special 