You should attempt to write a poem inspired by this topic -- not a derivative, literal
interpretation of the topic. Create a poem that reflects your own true self.
--> Since the officious rules of PWoF 2016 stipulate that you can submit more than
one poem; may I suggest, if the fit strikes you, that you include, after your major work,
a second poem consisting of a bit of transient doggerel, a limerick, or a trenchant
end-rhyming nonsense poem that somehow reflects the intention of this topic.
(And for anyone who's a bit uncertain about starting out here: Ignore my bullshite and
just string some words together (that's what everybody else is doing ).
Topic 10:
As a fitting end to WPoF 2016, this last topic will plunge us deep into the
very soul of what we, oft-times ironically, call writing. Namely: Play.
Poetry couldn't properly be called poetry without doggerel, limericks, senryu,
nonsense poetry, parody of respectable forms and authors, and other types
too obscene to mention.
So, Topic 10:
Write one of those things listed above or anything else your creative,
playful mind might construct.
--> And, on the occasion of this ending*, let me assure you that I and all
the other members of the PWMoC [Pigpen Wright Ministry of Culture] have
found this enjoyable, amusing, and sometimes downright hard -- especially
the damn thing where you couldn't use "e".
* Only the ending of the daily posted topics. Everyone, myself very much
included, remains (as the officious rules clearly state) utterly free to continue
participating until after their death.
And, should the fit strike you, here are some examples:
The site below, being slothfully ugly, badly organized, hopelessly incomplete,
and self-delusionally named; seemed to perfectly fit our topic:
We must agree on what is important.
Working together we’ll achieve much;
with your wages and mine the family
will thrive. As one door opens, another
closes. We learn, listening and watching.
Keep your ears wide open! Time for tea,
school is over, work finished. Let it be,
leave it all alone. This food is delicious,
sweet and sour. Sit up straight. Be good.
Be quiet. It’s up to them. Leave the soap.
This water is very cold. Leave the towel.
It’s up to the children to sing, up to you
to bless. Who will do the formal speech?
What would you like? Want a cup of tea?
A drink? Would you like a feed? Meat?
Where are the kids? Pass me the bread.
Thanks. Hey, sit up properly. Pass the salt.
We should wait for your Mum. Slowly she
climbs, rests, breathes. Be careful! Who is
the girl eating the bears’s porridge? Decide.
I've been learning Te Reo Maori, and these are random phrases from my notebook. I was curious to see if a narrative would emerge.
The past 10 days have been a buzz! Thank you Ray for posting topics and keeping us going. Thank you everyone, for writing and commenting and encouraging - I enjoyed it all. Except maybe the one with no 'e's.That was a slog.
Do what you feel; keep it real.
Steer the wheel to the sweet reveal
Do what you want; keep it blunt.
Perform any stunt; speak in grunts.
Do what you think; keep it pink.
Blink when you wink; drink from the sink
You can Adlib
Share a spare rib
Wear a square bib
Blare a fair fib
Repair a rare crib
You can adlib
Mem argled lubrigiciously capin hez edin rock; ghe emerild codiadim mair captious than Posighadim we’ve hord up stenkin priadim capout ghez rampin gock. Iv aver maksy viciously compundit meretriciously comparadiddly dim, Mem argled so capin hez rock engogged with simperlastin bock avwowed imponsciously... govin his gim gavort gher gwim evacuously slock!
Mem argled lubrigiciously capin hez edin rock; ghe emerild codiadim mair captious than Posighadim we’ve hord up stenkin priadim capout ghez rampin gock. Iv aver maksy viciously compundit meretriciously comparadiddly dim, Mem argled so capin hez rock engogged with simperlastin bock avwowed imponsciously... govin his gim gavort gher gwim evacuously slock!
To be entirely honest, my brain is far too exhausted right now (and the room seems to be spinning a bit) for me to actually work on new material. So here's an edit from an example I wrote for class a year ago.
There was an old man who would smoke-
a pipe he kept under his cloak.
When a car hit his leg
it cracked like an egg,
but now the old man doesn't smoke!
If you're the smartest person in the room, you're in the wrong room.
"Or, if a poet writes a poem, then immediately commits suicide (as any decent poet should)..." -- Erthona
I'm tempted to just post the transcript for this sketch:
[Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T70-HTlKRXo]
But perhaps not. It should be a rather tinny idea, don't you think?
To all in this thread (with the one obvious exception) - lovely, entertaining, full to the brim. To the sub-mods of the entire operation, nicely instigated: have got my unearned wedge of cake, and you may eat it, too. Now back from blitz poetry - had an idea this morning, might make a poem after a couple weeks' editing.
(10-02-2016, 07:17 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: And I'm quite loving dukealien's not-drunken-but-high nonsense. Hopefully someone posts a translation. xD
As Sherlock Holmes remarked, the first requirement in decoding a message is to know the language in which it was written. The source of this one appears to be a stoned, over-educated Edinburgher attempting to recite a naughty ballad in Erse.
). ![[Image: cake.jpg]](http://wordbiscuit.com/im12/cake.jpg)
