Treasure Island

Rhythm and Rhyme Workshop


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

    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 Stage

    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 Stage

    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 Stage

    HEAVENS

    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 Stage

    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 Stage

      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 Stage

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

    Conscience

    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 Stage

    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' " ;) :

    SOMBRERO

    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:

    SOMBRERO

    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.

  • Suman Kumar Das (5/18/2014 1:35:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    My Shadow


    Somebody knocks gently
    At the door of my hushed heart.
    ‘Who is there?’ I ask,
    But get no reply in return.
    When I open the door
    Only view a light shadow
    Receding slowly far from me.

    I know not when comes
    And when goes that shadow,
    Still it feels very close to me.
    Sometimes I refrain myself
    From opening the door,
    Lest that would disappear.

    But I can’t stop my curiosity
    Wish to discern the identity.
    Finally I realize the truth;
    That is none but my own shadow.

    Suman Kumar Das

  • Terrance Tracy (5/17/2014 9:44:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    I Am Still Alive

    Covered with dust are words
    of expectation; like an ancient
    warrior whose trust in his
    sword that has failed to serve him,
    so my words are covered
    with dust for the lack of poetic
    appreciation lost in a forum of opinion
    has attempted to derail my trust in a pen.

    I am still alive and I will survive
    because I am still alive to pursue
    my quest I am still alive to express
    that which gives inspiration to
    pick up my pen to begin again.
    I am still alive.

    Like Emerson's kernel of corn I will
    till the soil and do my best to remove
    the dust from my words of poetic verse
    because they are my thoughts for me to
    express despite the vitriol of public
    opinion.

    I am still alive to pen no matter if the
    the words are covered with dust and
    offend the elite, I will lay them at
    your feet for you to remove the dust
    which covers the words, and now I have
    done my pen a service because I am still
    alive.

    Terrance Tracy

  • Jefferson Carter (5/14/2014 12:40:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    If any PHer is interested in hearing me read a few poems and chatting about poetry, there's a video of an interview with me on youtube.

    Google youtube, then search Jefferson Carter poet. I look a little nuts and a lot older than I feel, but the conversation is pretty cool. Let me know what you think

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