Sam Miguel Posted February 9, 2004 Author Share Posted February 9, 2004 Thank you I do for your kind comments, you have made my Monday feel so splendid. I am happy. I will post another piece for your critique very soon. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
linlam Posted February 9, 2004 Share Posted February 9, 2004 I wrote a poem for my goldfish Bet Ode For Bet Bet Wet Pet. She liked it:) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mosherchik Posted February 9, 2004 Share Posted February 9, 2004 Anglepoise lamp On my desk Bendy neck Drooping head Like a giraffe that brings me light Fin. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
nomme Posted February 9, 2004 Share Posted February 9, 2004 Tips for extreme poetry. You could do worse than emulate that great wordsmith, namely Syd Barrett. I offer you this for your consideration and perusal. A true classic I'm sure you'll agree. Bike (Barrett) I've got a bike, you can ride it if you like. It's got a basket, a bell that rings And things to make it look good. I'd give it to you if I could, but I borrowed it. You're the kind of girl that fits in with my world. I'll give you anything, everything if you want things. I've got a cloak it's a bit of a joke. There's a tear up the front. It's red and black. I've had it for months. If you think it could look good, then I guess it should. You're the kind of girl that fits in with my world. I'll give you anything, everything if you want things. I know a mouse, and he hasn't got a house. I don't know why I call him Gerald. He's getting rather old, but he's a good mouse. You're the kind of girl that fits in with my world. I'll give you anything, everything if you want things. I've got a clan of gingerbread men. Here a man, there a man, lots of gingerbread men. Take a couple if you wish. They're on the dish. You're the kind of girl that fits in with my world. I'll give you anything, everything if you want things. I know a room full of musical tunes. Some rhyme, some ching, most of them are clockwork. Let's go into the other room and make them work. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tango2 Posted February 9, 2004 Share Posted February 9, 2004 Her is some work from the great Wordsworth Avenue,this was created while he worked with Chaucer School. I have a car,tis a very splendid car indeed, Not a bike,though id like,to wash it now and then. A pound of potatoes is quite cheap these days, I have a nice garden,oh no…on my lawn,a weed My window cleaner is good,does do an excellent job, Not a plumber,nor electrition not even a baker, Have you seen those new cd players. Ihave very clean windows,KFC…corn on the cob I know cars are not invented,but im sure they will be one day. What a hero Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sam Miguel Posted February 9, 2004 Author Share Posted February 9, 2004 All this creativeness makes me feel glad: indeed my heart is on fire and my feet are dancing. Congratulations to you all. I am submitting my latest rendition: A man on a Train (We find out his Name is Len) for you to digest and offer me advice. Thank you. Thank you all. A man on a Train (We find out His name is Len) by Sam Miguel A man on a train sits by a window alone with his whirlpool thoughts a dark reflection screams in his eyes as the train disappears into the tunnel. As the train emerges again we find out his name is Len. He's not there now. He's nowhere to be seen. Two long minutes later he re-appears and takes his seat by the window. He lights his pipe and smokes. He likes to smoke his pipe, you know. At the station he mingles with the crowd and becomes so insignificant. He likes to do his garden at the weekend when he has the time. It took me almost three years of midnight oil-burning to tune in and get the balance right in this Edwardian bubble-drop maga-sonnet. I love it, though. It dampens my eyes. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tango2 Posted February 9, 2004 Share Posted February 9, 2004 It is truely a mega sonnet,I didnt mean to doubt you but I did check. Yes it has 16 lines,a sonnet times 4 truely a genuine mega sonnet. It almost reminds me of the work I did some years ago,while sitting in the old Bridge street Bus Terminus.Its called bread and jam. Im sitting here,waitng. Ihope the 79 comes along very soon, ...even the 89 will be fine. Here comes a bus,wonder what it is. Shall I go to the kiosk,I could buy 10 number 6. Only 37 and a half pence. I could buy a mars bar,a bag of crisps even. My bus has arrived,im so happy. Now I can go home,have my tea of bread and jam. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sam Miguel Posted February 10, 2004 Author Share Posted February 10, 2004 Do you know, I simply love poems about bread and jam. It is such an anti-relevant subject in this modern auto-flimbistic society. Younger forum members should take note that in the '70's there was little else to eat but bread and jam. It needs poems like this (which are valuable documents and modern local history in the making) to highlight the hardships we went through in those dark, dreary days. But we were happy. Oh yes, we were happy. Wonderful evocotive stuff, Tango. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tango2 Posted February 10, 2004 Share Posted February 10, 2004 I had one about Lemon Curd,but the world just isnt ready for such an outspoken bit of work yet. The bread and jam inigma,is I feel an indication of our dual personality...is it bread and jam or is it jam and bread,is it strawberry or blackcurrant...white bread or brown,sliced or crusty...from the co-op or did your nan bake it. To change the jam for Lemon curd,or dare I say it...even marmalade,would be so provocative and would stir up ill feeling within the poetry circles. I am moved to rubbing the mist from my eyes at the very thought of it. Lemon Curd poems,have for some years been studdied by the post pectinilist poets,we need to go a long way before we even begin to understand there casmagoric teachings. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sam Miguel Posted February 11, 2004 Author Share Posted February 11, 2004 Writing and understanding fine Poetry is, in my opinion, the art of letting one's mind be deliciously turned around corners and corkscrewed through space by specially chosen words. So intense are my emotions when I begin to read such a piece of work for the first time, my nose begins to swing up and down uncontrollably in anticipation at discovering what the outcome will be. Marvellous. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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