"Three Antique Kids Blocks" by Paul WolberA Poetry Puzzle Challenge The Society March 20, 2018 Humor, Poetry 32 Comments By Amy Foreman A cold and rainy afternoon recently gave rise to this little idea of a poem-puzzle. I challenged myself to write a poem where each word started with a different letter of the alphabet, in order, from A to Z. I allowed myself up to three extra words not in the alphabetical line-up, and I allowed “X” to stand in for “Ex.” It was a fun little puzzle to try fitting some sense, a theme, a meter, and a rhyme all around the letters of the alphabet. Here, in all their glory, are some ABC nonsense poems: Age vs. Youth Aches, Bursitis, Carpal-tunnel, Deafness, Entropy— Frown-lines, Gout, and Halitosis: It’s Just Kids Like Me Never Open Pills, Quite Rightly Shunning Therapy. Upstart Vocal Weanlings X-ude Youth so Zestfully. Starry Night As Birdsong Ceased, Dark Evening Fell, Genteelly Hovering, Its Jewelled Kiss, Love’s Magic-spell, No Other Promising. Quintillion Radiant Starships Tell Unending Vision-ing While X-tra-luminaries Yell To Zillions star-gazing. Why Is My Fridge Empty? Able Boys Can Definitely Eat Food Glutt’nously. Ham In Juice, Kohlrabi, Lychees, Milk-n-Nuts, Or Peas, Quiche, Ricotta, Stewed Tomatoes, Upside-down-cake, Veal, Watermelon, X-tra Yogurt, Ziti—makes a meal! Now, it’s your turn! Post your ABC nonsense poems below in the comments section. Amy Foreman hails from the southern Arizona desert, where she homesteads with her husband and seven children. She has enjoyed teaching both English and Music at the college level, but is now focused on home-schooling her children, gardening, farming, and writing. Her blog is theoccasionalcaesura.wordpress.com Related Post ‘A Cello Knows’ and Other Poetry by Andrew Todd ... A Cello Knows Amidst the smoke and light and laughter Along the smiles and cheers thereafter A sound is bled, wrung free from strings It bounds an... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail 32 Responses James A. Tweedie March 20, 2018 Sooooooo silly! Sooooooo much harder than it looks! Soooooooo . . . here goes nothing! Able bodied chef denies Edible fruits give health. Insists Juiced kiwi leaves’ll mesmerize. Neurotic ophthalmologists. Prepares quesadillas, roasted skink, Then uncooked veal with xanthic-yellow zinc. Reply Amy Foreman March 20, 2018 Love it, James! Reply Amy Foreman March 20, 2018 And you didn’t even use “X” for “ex” or throw in any extra words. Well done! James A. Tweedie March 20, 2018 Finding an “x” word that made any sense was quite a challenge, lol! I hope others give it a shot. You are one crazy, clever lady, Amy. Your kids must be getting a great education with you in charge. Reply Amy Foreman March 21, 2018 Haha! I will let them know you said so, James! Reply David Watt March 21, 2018 The puzzle idea is quite clever! Your poems set the bar very high. However, here follows my attempt: A boy could dance, Eye fondest glance, Hold in joyous kiss Love’s mad nuances. Over-pacing Quickstep, Rhumba, Samba, Tango; Until Vigour’s wantonness Expires youthful zoom. Reply Amy Foreman March 21, 2018 Fabulous, David! Love all the dances you fit in there! Reply Joe Tessitore March 21, 2018 Great fun but I got just about nowhere with it; “All babies cry”, “Anybody care”, “Amy bakes cookies”. My hat’s off to all of you! Reply Amy Foreman March 21, 2018 “A bitter, crushing disaster, eh?” Thanks for trying it out, Joe! 😉 Reply Nick March 21, 2018 Query for the Hollow Men Across broken columns, did Eliot find greatness hiding in jeweled, kingly light? Maybe. Not. Or perhaps these questions reach, slowly, toward undulating, violent waves bringing exhausted, yellowed zeitgeists. Reply Amy Foreman March 21, 2018 Wonderful, Nick! Reply Theo March 21, 2018 After bittersweet changes Dreams effortlessly flourish Glory humbles instantly Just kind loving moves nascent obstructions Proving quiet repose Settles tumultuous undulating Vicissitudes Wonderful experiences yearning for Zion Reply Amy Foreman March 21, 2018 The phrase “yearning for Zion” goes far beyond the “nonsense poem,” Theo. Well done! Reply David Paul Behrens March 22, 2018 A to Z A Bible can divulge even far greater heights in justice, knowledge, learning, meaningfulness, neatly opening plentiful questions regarding subtle truths, upon very wide examination, yielding zestfulness. I do not belong to any church, nor exclusively adhere to any specific religion or school of thought. About ten years ago I read the Bible, cover to cover, word for word, in its entirety, just as though I was reading a novel or a biography. I found it to be full of truth, wisdom and philosophy. I recommend to any poet seeking inspiration. For me, it induced the revelation that Jesus Christ is the single most influential and important human being in the history of mankind. As a result, he is my only hero. Speaking of revelations, I think the Book of Revelations is a fantasy and should be dropped from the Bible. It does more harm than good. (Funny how your little poetry puzzle challenge yielded all these thoughts. Thank you, Amy) Reply Amy Foreman March 22, 2018 Fabulous poem, David! I am so impressed by the depth and meaning in all the poems contributed thus far. I’m so glad others are enjoying this challenge, too! Reply Damian Robin March 22, 2018 Hi Amy thanks for sharing your rainy day play. Impressive so many can follow your way and make so much sense from the small and dense with only three extra words for lee-way. Some time ago I had the notion to set alphabetical acrostical poemicals in motion; but Oh how tiresome, Oh how rum, to bid ev’ry letter of the alphabet come. So, to avoid the awkward x, y, z, I filled my head with awful words instead. Yes, awful awfull (but seldom awe-full) aw-full a-wfull a-w full a to w full a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w full absurds. Yes, nonsense bonne-sense that may be a bit clearer down every future gully having ingeniously juggled knowledge lovingly more narrow or perhaps quintessentially ravingly sense-less to ultimate vanity’s wilderness Yes, awful, isn’t it? But more fun than an alligator bun. Thanks, Amy, For the opportunity, Damian Reply Amy Foreman March 22, 2018 Super, Damian! More fun than an alligator bun! Reply Amy Foreman March 22, 2018 Here’s another one for the computer age: Always back computer drivers. Every file gets held. Index JPGs, key logins, Motherboard-remelds. Never overstuff your PC; Quick reboots save time. Under valid warranteeing, X-cel yields zilch crime! And a little explosive chemistry: After benevolent chemists decant ether’s foam, Gaseous helium instantly joins kaolin’s loam. Manganese, nitrogen, oxygen, all polychrome, Quickly react, so that “unbreakable” velodrome Wildly explodes yeasty zeppelins under its dome. Reply Steven Shaffer March 24, 2018 Always betting, commonly doleful, eager, frequent, gaming hopeful. Incredible jackpot – my king! my liege! money bestows noblesse oblige. Practice quiet, regulatory stealth; taxes unpaid — volatile wealth. Extraordinary young zillionaire! Reply Amy Foreman March 24, 2018 Terrific poem, Steven. Love the subject matter, too! Reply Steven Shaffer March 25, 2018 Thanks Amy! As a computer scientist, I appreciated your “PC” poem. Damian Robin April 4, 2018 Hi Amy, more fuel for the fire, I have no available awfuls—the one above was made on the spot as I have not kept the origional batch (from decades ago) though I may have one in an old magazine somewhere. Amazed at the full rhymes people have achieved. Here, I’ve managed 7 x 7-syllable lines with four half rhyme endings spaced by none-rymed lines. I may have cheated by using Mandarin words: Xin1xing4 – moral character and Zhen1 – Truth —I hope the content does not scare anyone off Very Best Damian Amid Boundless Confusion, Dafa Expands; Falun Gong Heals Inside-out. Justice, Known, Lifts Majorities’ Non-life. Opened, Pure, Quiet Reason Sustains Them, Uplifts Virtue, Wisdom’s Xinxing, Yielding Zhen. Reply Amy Foreman April 5, 2018 Wow! Impressively plotted out in an amazing 7×7 poetry grid! Very difficult to do. Bravo, Damian! Reply Damian Robin April 10, 2018 Addicted, bother … Penalty Shootout Alone. Ball Centered. Dot. Eyes Focusing (Goal.Goal.Goal.) He Inhales. Jimmies. Kicks … Lops Miserably… Nicks Outer Post! Qualifying Roasts … Starts Turning Upfield, Visibly Worn. X. Young. Zero. Reply Amy Foreman April 12, 2018 So sorry I didn’t see this fabulous ABC poem until now, Damian! This is just genius, the spacing, the punctuation, the structure. Really, really good! Reply Damian Robin April 12, 2018 Thanks Amy, I was beginning to think it was TOO non-traditional! Amy Foreman April 13, 2018 Absolutely not to non-traditional, Damian. It may be my favorite one yet, simply because it doesn’t feel forced at all, even though it has been squeezed into this extremely limiting form. Great job! I, also, am a bit addicted to this puzzle when I have the time and inclination . . . so here’s another one about calling the kids home to supper . . . Atlases best can direct every fourth-grader home. Instantly, juvenile kids loudly make noise or phone. Quickly returning, by some transportation unknown, Vaulting those wayward x-patriates back to your zone. Reply Amy Foreman April 13, 2018 “too”–not “to” . . .sorry about that! Reply Damian Robin April 14, 2018 Astonishing! Brilliant, Cadenced Dactyls … (Excuses Florrish, Guiding Hopelessness In — Just Kan’t Keep up — Kompetitive, Loco Mentality .. Me, me … Bravo, Amy, dexterous prosody, rhythm and symmetry. [Though I think you missed a bit— shouldn’t ‘noise’ be ‘noises’ in the midst of it to keep the dactyl’s poises?] It wonderfully evokes the peel, the belling mayhem of the meal, the calling to of mini hordes from far and wide and odd abroads; the homely, mini refectory, that may be in a mini assembly hall where some sense of parity with the wider educational sprawl is as good as it can be. [ I home schooled my kids — or ‘home educated’ as we say in this across-the-water here UK — with my wife and many bids to higher beings to keep the lids on stew pots and the binned get-rids. The memories don’t disappear though all growed up and in their 20s with some, as adults, still living here, and that is plenties!! ] That you appear sane and happy and have time for yourself in poetry is praise for well done schooling — that your children must be paying back some of what you’ve taught them. PS Did you know, in Chinese the word for ‘name’ is the sign for dusk above the sign for mouth. It alludes to parents calling their children home in the evening. 名 Míng VBest Damian Amy Foreman April 14, 2018 What a lovely post, Damian! And it was wonderful to read that you and your wife home-educated your kids. My husband and I have made many mistakes as parents, but schooling the kids at home was not one of them! Glad the public system Missed ’em! We were happy to assist ’em! Proverbs says, “Correct thy son, and he shall give thee rest; yea, he shall give delight unto thy soul.” It’s the truth. All seven of ours (ages 12 through 22) are a constant delight, and give both my husband and me rest. I think the closeness that comes from schooling at home fosters a big bunch of goodwill between the kids and the parents and between the kids and each other. . . even though all of us occasionally do drive one another crazy! Still, we wouldn’t have it any other way! Blessings to you and your family! Reply Vanth Seven April 18, 2018 This was a super fun post to read. I did a similar challage is my old writing group. It was to write a poem with song titles from only 1 band. Perhaps you would like to try. I chose the Grateful Dead. You could use extra words to connect sentences but every line has to contain a song title. Death is Life for the Grateful Dead The dark star is coming She is the October Queen The saint of circumstance Pick up you’re china doll little queen Forget the sins of your father There is work to be done Their watching you from Franklyn’s tower Your warrior awaits you in this broke down palace In his hand a box of rain He is the estimated prophet A trinket grail but the blood is purely yours Venture through the cold rain and snow and pay your tariff At Terrapin station all the while whispering he’s gone But here in your fathers last temple he whispers back She belongs to me A thirteen point lightning rod will steel your face Just as Jack Straw leads you through Shakedown St mumbling to himself About yesterday’s Mexicali blues In the days between there are no easy answers Believe it or not all we are is just a ripple In the black muddy river Blow away your foolish hearts You are neither the victim or the crime In this strange world This night of a thousand stars Here only the strange remain even so You were built to last you’re the mind bender A ramble on rose here where Time never ends just empty pages in the Greatest story never told Dance your samba in the rain Underneath the Banyan tree Celebrate childhoods end Black throated wind blows through the Fire on the mountain in a touch of gray There stands Wharf Rat throwing stones Beckoning to you with crazy fingers “My queen from the heart of me there is help on the way Please let me sing our blues away I find you easy to love If I had the world to give I would wrap it just for you Wrap it in scarlet begonias” Dire wolf circles through the fennario and the demon daughters Standing on the moon are linked by an unbroken chain Getting drunk on the pride of Cucamonga Dire wolf lets out a mighty roar “Be gone black Peter Take your demon wife’s with you I know you rider You friend of the devil” “Nihil interesse inter diemet saeculum” No Peter this is the poorest day to die but you for you Death don’t have no mercy It’s just like any other day that’s ever been The only time is now sweet crimson rose Peter’s blood runs to sweet ruby Cerise from his foolish heart Yet Reuben and Cerise are merely the Pirouette in the carnival And I’m your fatal vision Wave to the wind I will show you the way to go home With my immortal kiss now just through that corps aside All liars, pretender , Peter , Rueben , Wharf Rat it makes no differences in a name The righteous purest will ascend while ravens sing you to sleep “Never trust a women” Silents wolf I am death I am the big bad wolf you fool I am the nightmare that never ends you are just the thorn of the rose vine Encompassing life’s mortal coil little queen Lazy lightning resembles the wolfs smirk of a smile Smile smile smile I know you yet you feel like a stranger I am the strange the martyrdom the keeper of the rose But I have no need for the attics of my life Oh my little China doll Righteous blood will feed your soul and the strength of hatred Will fuel you for the journey down the lazy river road You see a broken heart I see a new beginning It must have been the roses that led you to me Come your lost sailor awaits in the last of your fathers homes In the musk rat flats there the last red wood temple dwells Your ancient prince sitting with a grail of memories And a box of rain. By Vanth Seven (Enjoy) Reply Amy Foreman April 19, 2018 What fun, Vanth Seven! This could be a great rainy day game–now if only there would be another rainy day in Arizona! Thanks so much for sharing this! Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.