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Rhythm and Rhyme Workshop

Workshop for poetry written in traditional forms.
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  • Terrance Tracy (7/4/2014 2:43:00 AM) Post reply

    Foolish Journey
    O the anguish that hurts the soul are words spoken when one’s emotions are high, vicious accusations relentlessly expressed gave birth to a foolish journey to find some rest.

    The seasonal high humidity and heat accompany the disabled voyager on a foolish journey to what end he did not know nor care.

    With each step pain is felt in his temporal body and eternal soul, health or peril he did not care on this foolish journey to nowhere.

    One more step and then another, one more step and then another the voyager rehearsed in his mind giving no thought as to what he left behind.

    Traveling on a busy highway struggling with each step the voyager stumbled by a familiar church perhaps he should stop here, but his soul was wounded and he would not abide in there.

    One quarter of a mile up the highway he spied a bridge with grave needs for a voyager to rest, there he will sit and pray to his God to ask for forgiveness for undertaking such a foolish journey.

    Reaching the bridge he accepts the invitation of the rail and begins to contemplate the fruition of his fate, dear Lord what have I done I left behind the love of my life in this test of strife.

    The traffic was heavy and so was his soul, as the voyager sat on the bridge rail several cars stopped and offered help but all the voyager could muster was to say that he was homeless and nowhere to go; for he wanted to be alone with his Lord and ask for his sins to be atoned; he just wanted people to leave him alone.

    Hampered with physical limitations he could not take a step forward or back so he just sat there and began praying and hearing his Lord speaking to his heart that which you have done was not very smart.

    I do not condemn you so look for no stones for your sins have been atoned return to your love, the wife of your youth, for I will give you strength to endure the hardships and defeat the roaring lion that roars your ears and has caused you to be covered in tears.
    Terrance Tracy

  • Vivek Mishra (7/4/2014 2:20:00 AM) Post reply

    I'm new here. Please be gentle. :)


    Without the security where I want to be
    You are far away and a thousand miles impose upon

    I am shackled with tears but you are free of fears
    Why do I whisper and no one hears

    I lusted in thought
    I rusted and fought

    sleight of fate and the one that you've done
    strikes an immature infinity and I'm dying young

    fallen from grace I see a face and it never ceases
    You break one heart and I gather a thousand pieces.

  • Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (7/3/2014 10:47:00 AM) Post reply

    Valuable guidance on rhythm and rhyme is requested from the persons of eminence in the subject which can be understood well.

  • Mandolyn Orwhatever (7/1/2014 8:10:00 PM) Post reply

    here is one i wrote recently

    -baby, put down the steak knife-

    you aren't a suit or tie
    you don't drink gin,
    a polish dog is in your hand,
    your teeth make love to cape cod chips

    munch 'n crunch this–

    your hair reminds me of the smoke
    coming off the grill,
    a triple digit drop of sweat
    sliding down your neck
    you use your eyes to move my head
    left, it goes left, there's brimstone over there...

    i need to hold something
    when it's just us, in Summer
    floating boats without fritos, ignoring sunscreen
    we feel the waves through digestion
    in a processed bun, a gall stone from the sun

    and you almost rubbed my back until
    you found out
    IPA comes in a barrel

    –i wish i came in one
    get fizzy on your tongue, scratch your throat
    make you an addict
    feel you chug...chug... chug
    light a fire in your belly, scream 'n shout

    don't ever let me out
    if you get an urge to go

    ~ i'm not big on rhyme all the time, but i do like rhythm.~

  • Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (6/29/2014 10:14:00 AM) Post reply

    This is a very useful page to read that I think since it is felt that rhythem and rhyme is more important in poems that is to be maintained for an effective and beautiful reading.

  • Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (6/28/2014 10:33:00 AM) Post reply

    Rhythm to a poem is essential and it makes the poem so beautiful to recite. poem is not just grasping a subject but I feel it is also interesting to recite in its sound vibrations and here rhythm is important.

  • Jeffrey Gonell (6/11/2014 3:43:00 PM) Post reply


    I hear the heavens when the winds say your name,
    They speak of your beauty, wherever they aim.
    I see the heavens in your eyes every time you look my way,
    They’re the moonlight during the night, and the sunshine during the day.
    I smell the heavens when I play with your hair,
    You have an aroma so enticing, it seduces the air
    I feel the heavens in your warm embrace,
    You take me so deep, far away to another place.

    You bring the heavens into my life,
    With your love and celestial vibes.
    You bring the heavens into my life,
    I’m so grateful to have you as my wife.

    I hear the heavens every time that you speak,
    You have the voice of an Angel, it’s so very mystique.
    I see the heavens in your smile, the essence of your delights,
    Creates an aura so bright, it shines through the darkest of nights.
    I touch the heavens when we kiss, and it feels so profound,
    It’s way beyond bliss, with all of the stars shining around.
    I feel the heavens when you give me a touch,
    Oh baby it feels so so good, I could never get enough.

    You bring the heavens into my life,
    With your love and celestial vibes.
    You bring the heavens into my life,
    I’m so grateful to have you as my wife.

    By Jeffrey Gonell

  • Anand Brown (5/28/2014 8:04:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    The sonnet is dying out to free verse poetry.

    We need to revive the sonnets as soon as possible.

    Replies for this message:
    • Amazu Donaldmario Ifeanyi (5/28/2014 9:32:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Seriously, but i know that there are those who still hold it dear and still write it, though cant submit it at contests because majority wouldnt appreciate it

  • Zoila T. Flores (5/26/2014 8:03:00 PM) Post reply

    Ohhhhhhhh Please! Same all, same all........
    Check this out;


    Conscience, don’t abandon me,
    Through my journey, every day,
    Keep supporting, as you’re always,
    On the wisdom, of my say.

    Conscience, don’t rely on me,
    Because my soul, is not prepared,
    On directing, to my people,
    On their lives, to be repaired.

    Conscience, please forgive me,
    To my morning, if you may,
    If my eyes, refuse to open,
    It’s my soul, that’s in dismay.

    Conscience, please assist me,
    In the passage, through this world,
    With a cheerful, sense of spirit,
    Making life, relish so more.

    By Zoila T. Flores

  • Jefferson Carter (5/26/2014 12:59:00 PM) Post reply

    This Facebook thread on formal poetry has taken an unexpected turn, what with the formal poet Sam Gwynn sonnetizing my free verse poem " Sombrero."

    JEFFERSON CARTER: I'm posting one of my early open form poems in response to Lewis Turco's challenge above (" let's see you do something like this in 'free verse' " ;) :


    You bitched about my kisses,
    too perfunctory, like one
    of those toy birds dipping
    its beak into a glass of water.
    You’re coming to visit me
    & my wife. Who wants to hear
    Etta sing “The Jealous Kind”?
    I used sex to stay on top.
    Once I compared
    an old lover’s nipples
    to tiny sombreros & you
    looked at me with such pity
    I felt myself disappear.

    This isn't especially sophisticated, but I still like it.

    SAM GWYNN: For Jefferson Carter:


    So all that time you dissed about my kisses,
    too tentative, you said, like one of those
    toy birds dipping its beak in water- toes
    testing a swimming pool. But this all misses

    the point of why you want to “visit” us,
    my wife and me. You really want to hear
    Etta singing “The Jealous Kind”?Discuss
    the past we’ve all three come, through years, to fear?

    Maybe it’s true I used sex (as men may)
    of staying on the top. When I compared
    one lover’s nipples to sombreros, you
    looked at me with such pity, bared
    as pity often is, I knew the true
    essence of all you had to say. And went away

    JEFFERSON TO SAM: That's kind of scary. Everything I like about my poem (mostly its emotional openness and surface simplicity) has vanished, replaced by the over-articulate musings of an emotionally constipated soul! But thanks anyway.

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