Rhythm and Rhyme Workshop
(4/27/2009 12:20:00 AM)
'Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can some how become great.'
(4/17/2009 5:55:00 AM)
can you take few minutes
of your expensive time
to read my new poem 'A friend'
Thanks a lot in advance.
(4/16/2009 3:06:00 PM)
is someone who
F inds you in a
R ush of people,
I nspires you to do something in life,
knows & feels all your
E motions and
N ever leaves you till the
is someone that everyone needs
is that special one
is someone you tell everything
is someone you never lie to
is someone can be a boy or girl
is someone always with you
is someone who knows everything about
you and simply still loves you
is someone who sees the pain in your eyes
while everyone else still believes in the smile in your face
always offer everything he can
will help you honestly when we need
will never let you down
But, hey you! ! !
is not just sharing a joke, a conversation, a cup
of coffee or a funny story
is sharing an honest and true part of yourself
is someone that everyone needs
A friend is the Oxygen that we all breath
what would you do if you didn't have
A friend? ? ? !
(4/16/2009 3:05:00 PM)
Kindly read my poems.
Any critical comments shall be appreciated.
(4/16/2009 2:20:00 PM)
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As I mentioned in another forum, I'm new to this site. However, I believe a better name for this forum would have been 'Fixed Form Workshop', and a better name for the other one (the Free Form workshop) would have been 'Organic Form Workshop'. Rhythm and rhyme are not solely restricted to 'traditional' forms.
John W Fenn
(4/8/2009 3:55:00 PM)
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If a ginger kid bites you, what should you do?
Don’t call for the doctor head for the zoo
For there they’ll have the drug that’s right
To kill the sting of the gingers bite
Relieve the pain and ease the stress
Of your impending gingerness
As doctors do not have a cure
This dread disease you must endure
Its symptoms are so painless that
You may forget to wear your hat
You’ll walk the streets without a care
Till someone spots your ginger hair
The ignominy and the shame
Of your intensely ruddy mane
May lead to thoughts of suicide
Though this is something best not tried
But there’s a place I’ve heard it said
Where those with ginger on their head
Can live in peace without a care
With other folk with ginger hair
So if inflicted with this curse
And God knows there is nothing worse
Pack up and join the merry band
Who live out there in Gingerland
(C) John W Fenn 03-04-2009
(4/1/2009 11:56:00 AM)
Last week I joined friends reunited
As with most of them I have lost touch
So I waited, and got quite excited
As the website had promised so much
I waited a day for some feedback
The first night was sleepless enough
Still certain that I’d get a good stack
And that sifting them through would be tough
Then after a weekend of hoping
I’d received nothing back by Email
Well maybe my systems not coping
I’ve heard that the server can fail
A month has gone by Oh so quickly
And things have gone round in my head
It all leaves me feeling quite sickly
But what if my old mates are dead
The chances of this are too slender
As I’d heard that they live all around
But they haven’t got back to the sender
And I’ve had my ear to the ground
It’s six months since I left my data
And I’ve sat the whole time at my screen
I’m sure they’ll get back to me later
“Come on me old mates, don’t be mean”
A year’s quickly flown, and I’m still here
Though I must say, I’m feeling some wrath
I’m Stinking of ciggies and stale beer
And 12 months away from my bath
Five years have gone by and I’m stinking
I’ve got used to these really long waits
But the whole thing has set be to thinking
Perhaps I don’t have any mates
Ten years have flown by, and I don’t care
I still think that something will come
My bottom is wedged in the armchair
And the cushion forms part of me bum
But twenty years on and now yippee
My first message, ‘I’ve got a hit’
“I knew you as s**t face the hippy
How are you, you sad little git”
So I’ve finished with friends reunited
And I’ve joined a new club on the net
It’s called “I’ve no friends I’m delighted”
And they guarantee mail you won’t get
(3/21/2009 12:19:00 AM)
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'The wind is up by nor'east boys;
She'll be a blow tonight.'
For what was eight bell rippled ease
Will come a roarin' fright.
The merc' was down to fourteen bars
and droppin' like a stone.
If we can't make East Marble Cove,
We'll meet with Davey Jones.
The captain called all hands to task
And barked the dogwatch choir;
'Unfurl that mizzen full me lads
and set the headsails fore.'
The cook began to bellyache.
The shipboy's face turned white.
'Secure the main sheet's bitter end,
then throw them yards a bight.'
Gray headland cliffs, now needle thin,
Had just come into view.
And three hours hence, safe harbor cove.
We only had but two.
As bound began to grow great swells,
Squalls marched across the sky.
The captain quipped, 'She's close I fear',
Then let a long, low sigh.
The wind among the rigging howled,
Our ship heeled hard to lee.
Teak decking creaked, as mastheads swayed
And gunnels filled with sea.
White-knuckled men in wide-eyed stare
began to cry and pray.
All I could think was; what a ride!
Thrill AND two bits a day?
No bold? No italics? No font size? This sucks!Replies for this message:
(3/27/2009 8:43:00 AM)
Is your writing quite dull? Does it not get reviews? Has your brain gone to sleep, and what of your muse? I’ve read some good tips and I tend to agree, Now here’s what I read. Do come ... more
(3/25/2009 11:48:00 AM)
Like this very much, Mr. Hagerman. Been wanting to do a shipwreck poem myself, you've caught the full flavor of it here...
- Josie Whitehead (3/27/2009 8:43:00 AM) Post reply
(3/11/2009 4:06:00 AM)
I don't know how to begin my words
cause penicillin just silly my mind
Sometimes I like a blind to feel
and got a portion of the elephant
I have a little awfulness
when you are late the third time
hope you don't mind my honesty
splash my feeling so directly
I should be a man with wide bosom
and not tightly gaze your flaw
that will be like a shy fool boy
only immerge road and miss the view
you so kind like a nature good poe
If you are willing I lie in you
I'll be so happy to feel your gentle
Would you give me safe for the whole
2001.07.23 22: 41
(First time here, introduce myself: I am from China, and my English is pale, so many words and grammar faults will be in my document, but I wish I can improve my English and makes some friends here.Maybe you will find many errors in my text, especially in my 'poem', wish you would like to pick them out for me, I will appreciate you very much.)
(2/20/2009 7:28:00 AM)
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The Cabbage Patch Men (A Poem in Rhythm and Rhyme)
There’s a bare stretch of land down the end of our street
It’s a place unemployed and retired folk meet
Where we hang about idly and talk about nature
We really don’t care if you’re early or late your
A ‘Town Growers’ member elite
You’ve a small bit of land, an ‘allotment’ its name
It’s got fence on all sides, and you’re so glad you came
If you’re wealthy, you sit in a shed, made of wood
If you’re not, an old brolly and box are as good
It’s all part of the ‘Town Growers’ game
There’s a smell in the air “Is it sh**”? You’re not sure
But regardless, you keep coming back for some more
The posh have green wellies, the jobless have black
Some even have tellies, the bad guys smoke crack
And the smell is concealed by manure
There’s polite conversation to analyze veg
There’s three litres of cider concealed in a hedge
The men discuss deeply the size of their sprouts
And the way to protect them from greenfly or louts
Or the weeds and coarse grasses like sedge
There’s no toilet in sight should you feel like a pee
So you simply discharge it were no-one can see
Indecent exposure could cause a mishap
Up to three years in jail should you bend for a c**p
But organic and chemical free
“My plums are gigantic”, says John, unemployed
“And I know my cucumber is often enjoyed”
“Look at me pumpkin, I grew it from seed
This beauty’s from Europe, a bloody great swede
But me marrow dried up, I’m annoyed
Kevin is proud of his long thick courgette
And brags of the item he grew for a bet
He says “it tastes great when it turns darkish green”
It grows very quick and you know where it’s been
And my girlfriend is proud “Aren’t you pet”
There’s a serious edge to the cabbage debate
And some blows are exchanged on ‘The use of phosphate’
Dirty Danny peers out from the back of his shed
Has a girl to deflower on his spring onion bed
And it’s only their very first date
“I don’t rush me greens, they are not grown in haste”
Says a proud small patch holder “All eaten – no waste”
There’s nothing as white as me organic cauli
I grew it in shit from a farm horse called ‘Dolly’
But it does leave a slight aftertaste
As darkness descends at the ‘Town Growers’ club
And the heroes depart with their organic grub
Wives have bought veg either frozen or tinned
And the ‘Town Growers’ produce ends up being binned
So the growers depart to the pub