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Your poem can be serious, silly, or something in-between. List the “random words” you chose as your poem’s title and feel free to use whatever poetic form you’d like. Then post the poem in the comments section below.
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“Rhyming, Rhythmic, Rapturous . . . and Random”
A Poetry Challenge by James A. Tweedie
“Occultic” and “bulimic” almost rhyme,
But also make a most intriguing pair;
Perhaps suggesting vomiting the slime
Of witches’ brew or other spell-cursed fare.
Indeed, if one should chance to juxtapose
Two random words that rhyme or nearly-so
Like “tragedian prose” and “pantyhose”
Imaginative thoughts would start to flow
Of Shakespeare’s Juliet in modern dress
Soliloquizing in Act Two, Scene One,
How Romeo’s embrace had made a mess
By causing her silk hosiery to run.
The challenge? Write a poem based on un-
Related words and post it just for fun.
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Sample
“Crane” “Brain”
The pachyderm had a large brain.
Extraction produced so much strain
That when the beast died
The coroner sighed
And lifted it out with a crane.
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Dawlish Jig
I.
erudite aphrodite
elegant eloquent
opulent company
summer ball Albert Hall
anecdote petticoat
diamond crown formal gown
pleated vest coat with tails
collared shirt Prince of Wales
fluted stem pink champagne
roasted duck quiche lorraine
talented orchestra
tenderloin in the raw
innocent consummate
passionate candidate
debutante night at a
vanity fair–
II.
summertime clementine
bachelorette suffragette
seventeen Aberdeen
exercise new-moon rise
wooden stool billiards pool
muddy boots vain pursuits
knowing glance new romance
hand-in-hand Irish band
lantern light winking sprite
dervish twirl rakish girl
fiddle bow toe-to-toe
battered trout Guinness stout
magical interlude
curious collude, while
dreaming one night at the
hie Dawlish Fair–
Great word pairs. Now the challenge is to turn one pair into a formal poem of some sort.
It’s a formal poem written in dactylic dimeter: 1-2-3, 4-5-6
Nice idea for a contest!
A treasure trove for the mind!
Thank you jd!
Delicatessen Poetry Lesson
Young Francois owns a delicatessen
He’s inherited from his late father.
But life changed when a poetry lesson
Shook him up and he realized he’d rather
Spend his moments on more than cold meat,
Quite delighting in all rhymes and meter,
Fascinated by rhythm and feet –
But he does have a wife, and must feed her.
Now, while Frank’s busy bundling beef,
In his mind there’s a virtual party –
He’ll wax lyrical just for relief
As he slices through Swiss and Havarti.
While he’s certainly no Keats or Milton,
He’s the best bard to serve up your Stilton!
This is delightful, Anna! Meter/feed her; party/Havarti are a lot of fun; and it’s a short story well told, also!
Anna, I’m with Cynthia. This is an inspirational delight of a poem. I love the random words. Huge fun!
Anna,
Awesome. I can’t wait to have some Miltonian Stiltonian for lunch!
Enjoyed the cleverness and humor.
I have been trying for a while, to write a poem
from random words of Greek etymology.
hope it isn’t all Greek to you!
Genesis
Alpha and Omega spoke and lexis translated
Into praxis, a harmonic synergy of symphony
And melody. Through a magical syntheses
Of dynamic energy, He breathed a musical
And poetic chorus across the cosmos.
In time Man spoke, Alpha, Delta and Omicron
And through man’s cacophony, catastrophe
And pandemonium ensued, through a strategy
Called, hypocrisy and melodrama, bringing a
Pandemic of agoraphobia and misanthrope.
A psychosis of ironic proportions mushroomed,
Into a phlegmatic bathos even a stagnant miasma
Of chaos. Now melancholic, facing an uncertain
Future, awaiting both the Omega and a metamorphoses
In the ellipsis, turns out to be a Herculean task.
Mia,
Your metamorphoses of random words from a Greek lexicon went viral, indeed! Fun and well done.
Thank you, perhaps I should try bilingual poems next.
Still trying to be proficient in both languages as far as
poetry is concerned. My excuse for not being a good
poet in English was that it is not my first language-
until I read other poets on here that is.
I don’t know why my comment is set out as it is as I did not write it that way.
This is delightful
Thank you, you have really made my day.
I really appreciate that you liked it and you commented.
I think your poem really well done too, Mia.
Blast and last:
If nuclear war should
befall earth at last,
I want to tell my friends,
I had a blast.
Roy… one of your best. You’ve got me smiling.
I really appreciate that, Mike!
Heh!
A joy to read! Thank you.
Short….yet with great humor!
Patricia )))
Perhaps this fulfils the challenge a bit more.
Either way this is a lot of fun, thank you.
Subterranean Machiavellian
Alice in wonderland’s a fairytale,
The rabbit hole is subterranean,
Supposedly inhabited by a warren
Of Machiavellian, misanthropes.
What a yarn, surely it remains
A classic for I feel trapped
Turning the pages one by one.
Mia,
You rose to the challenge that a rose. I really like the image conjured by the clever combination of, “Machiavellan misanthropes!”
Feminist Larcenist:
She drank society’s cacophonous beat
and danced upon computer keys.
Oblivious to grand-theft feminine
the appeal of power drew her in.
With austere proximity, she felt like a
vocational refugee, plunking and sinking
while not truly thinking for herself.
“Go! Seize!” they cried in her ear.
“Get yourself a respectable career,
despite the inclination that contradicts.
Break the walls of your house and disappear.”
K,
Thanks for the terrific tangle of rhythm and rhyme. Perhaps not rapturous but most certainly random!
Orange Blossom / Unhinged Possum
If you’re appalled by galling rhyme,
embrace the message – it’s sublime.
Neath the bud-fringed orange blossom
I espied an unhinged possum
Snuggled on a pansy pillow
With an addled armadillo,
Cuddled up, a scene so awesome –
Cock-a-hoop I came across ‘em.
If they’d cozied neath the willow
I’d have missed this dozy duo…
All I saw there was a dodo
Tuning up a hobo’s oboe.
Susan, you caught the spirit of the challenge and created a very jammed jam session. No doubt the addled armadillo was playing the orange blossom special on his fiddle! Good fun
Love the imagery!
myopic / microscopic … biopic
As Hollywood grows more myopic,
it’s just hired a star microscopic.
His stage name is ‘Sherm’,
an intestinal germ,
in a true life colonic biopic.
Paul,
An epic pict-
ure you depict.
You’d have been tricked
To rhyme “indict.”
Uppsala Koala
Benjamina the reckless koala
Stowed away on a ship to Uppsala
For a diet of lush Nordic pine
Tasting sweet as a Eucalypt wine.
But alas, after just a short while,
She determined the needles were vile,
And the temperature more to the liking
Of a mammoth or cold-loving Viking.
She made haste to the Uppsala Zoo
Where pine needles are thankfully few,
And each day leaves of gum are supplied,
And her pen nicely heated inside.
More like a modern nursery rhyme, and educative, to boot, I’m mightily impressed, David.
David,
Clever as always. rhyming Upsalla and Koala! Not too many choices there. I probably would have settled on tikka masala!
I love this! The rhymes are clever and funny, and the imagery is lovely.
I meant to comment on one poem, but posted in the general thread instead and can’t edit! But all of the poems have been good!
AGREE!
I am delighted to post my Poem ” Winds of Destiny” sharing the website with other wonderful poems, thank you.
While wondering about life and events, I was inspired to write the following Poem.
The Winds of Destiny
Winds a blow gentle and light
Caress and touch journey’s flight
Coaxing and guiding unseen a path
A journey by man, unknown along
Winds a blow tranquil along
Follow a path, certain and sure
To keep sight of journey’s path
all along down the road as I plod
Strong winds by and now
Pushing and shoving side to side
Like a dog herding a flock
To change a way to stubborn path.
Wonder often, how the wind
Now a rage, then a storm
Taking a view renewed along
Beseech a change to course of path
Wonder, often the wind
Whispers thoughts own so free
Forcing a view in many a ways
Of struggle and strife many a kind
Down the road as I plod.
Wonder often the ways of wind
Now from side, then behind
Pushing and goading all along,
To change a path of struggle and strife
Down the road as I plod.
Uncanny its ways make my path
Aside the pits and rocks along
Down the road as I plod,
And wonder often when the wind
Stops and summons a journey’s end
An end of path and all.
Aaron Ezekiel
Aaron, I thank you for sharing your poem. I am also one who wonders when the wind will stop and summon a journey;s end and all!
If nothing else, Aaron, I admire the extreme to which you have taken incoherence.
arc and oligarch
On Noah’s Ark the Patriarch,
had laboured hard from dawn til dark
to so embark a cask of sharks
who, acting like a pair of narks,
refused to leave their water park.
And thereupon the lark said ‘Hark!.
(Quite a shy lark for a skylark),
‘Perhaps were we to sink the Ark?’
Beau Crow said, ‘Arq, oh what a lark’
(He had a quark as his hashmark).
‘Oh what could spark such stark remarks?’
‘Were you then ever with Bismarck?’
‘I hope you’re handy with landmarks.’
Then flew a parabolic arc
to peck the aardvark oligarch,
now eating ants from the Ozarks,
before he carked their Matriarch.
Double Cream
Milk room shack; an inadequate sum of milk shake snake.
Hilariously rolling about like a cow.
In the meadow, an inadequate dose.
Long days beneath one’s feet and sweet smell of double ice cream.
Sysiphus contracted syphilus
Where did he find the time
To sire the raucous Glaucus
Then tossed from the equine
The Card/Lard Connection
A card can always make one smile
Along with birthday cakes and candles
And to a party, we’d likely trek a mile
Even if we’re wearing mighty lace-up sandals
But when we speak of lard, we have to stop and think
That in the end, it might not make us happy
It clogs the arteries and fills up every chink
And just might make the heart stop, within a second’s blink
So when we think of mismatched words
As card and lard for sure, there is no pair
Yet never underestimate, if milk can turn to curds
Then from card to lard, I think is very fair
The choice is not that hard
I’d much prefer a card to lard
Printer/Winter
I incautiously placed my new printer
On my desk, which proceeded to splinter
And collapse in a flash,
With an audible crash,
And will now provide firewood for Winter.
Thinking to rhyme
something with moon
that isn’t jejune;
but I haven’t the time.