#poeticform

There are those who think Rhythm & Rhyme and Poetry are barely related. As far as I am concerned, rhythmic-rhyming poetry is as legitimate a form as any other - I would argue that it’s the poetry of ordinary life, not literary life, and no less important.

My Dad called his poetry doggerel: he undersold himself.

For non-UK readers, Benny Hill was a 'naughty’ comedian of the ‘old school’ who crafted saucy lyrics..

Ah, but is it poetry?

I hear some people say:

Merely flimsy whimsy!

Simple rhyming! Childish play!

It’s what it is, I answer;

Define it as you will;

It’s not so much yer Shakespeare -

It’s more yer Benny Hill.

It’s not limerick or quatrain,

Or a classic villanelle ...

It’s not an ode or elegy

Or even doggerelle ...

It’s not sonnet, epic, ballad,

Free form or haiku;

It’s not a given form at all -

Not even clerihew.

Thus ...

Sir Christopher Wren

Said: “I’ll dine with some men.

If anyone calls:

I am designing St. Paul's."

(Edmund Clerihew Bentley, 1905)

So, I call upon my father,

Who passed on this rhythm and rhyme,

To witness that I’m doing

What he did all the time.

He wrote it as he felt it -

With no Literature degree,

And if it’s good enough for him,

Short Poem for Quadrille #98: Peel

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood from Pexels.

Inspired by dVerse’s prompt Quadrille #98.

  Her skin is peeling away.

It won’t stay

  Patched into a haphazard face;

In the space

  Between fingers corrodes the skin,

Worn too thin,

  Exposing minute veins of red

Among the dead.

  Her mortal landscape splits and frays

As the worn-out woman peels away.

  ~H

Serpent’s Tail Poem: my first attempt at it

Photo by NASA on Unsplash.

Inspired by the Sunday Whirl #443 and Jane Dougherty’s serpent’s tail form.

@Jane Dougherty, remember how weeks ago, I said I wanted to try your form? Well, here it is! I took a couple of liberties with it, based on how the poem was flowing.

  Upon the currents of the air,

Bare as the trees’ black arms against the sky,

Slyly moves this sentiment,

Lent to me through…

Poem in the Style of Poe and Swinburne for Throwback Thursday #40

Photo by Austin Prock on Unsplash.

As I indicated in the title of this post, the poem below was written in the style of Algernon Charles Swinburne, specifically his poem “The Garden of Proserpine” (which you can read here). Obviously I’m emulating Poe here as well. Oh, and I wrote this poem over ten years ago.

I stood upon a cliff at dawning Watched the strains of midnight die The new freed light…

And a new challenger appears: the sestina!

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood from Pexels.

I just got some encouraging feedback on a sestina I wrote a few years ago (posted on my site here) so I think I might try writing another one. I’ve tried writing in many different poetic forms (I used to read through encyclopedias of forms for fun) but the sestina is one that has always both intrigued and baffled me. I’ve come to realize, however, that some of…