Logarhyme, from AMETHYST's site Options

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi all.

Liz has permission to post this form here and I think it sounds like a FUN poetic style...

Here's the scoop as stated on Poetry911:

How could a simple six line verse with four iambs in first and second line, two iams in the third, then repeated again in the next three lines, not have been written before?

Anyway, the form is:
4 iambs with end rhyme A
4 iambs with end rhyme A
2 iambs with end rhyme B
4 iambs with end rhyme C
4 iambs with end rhyme C
2 iambs with end rhyme B
Where usually some kind of summary or counterpoint to the two preceding lines goes on the B line.

Liz summarizes this new form as:

The requirements are iambic meter...

Line Length is 884884 for each stanza
the rhyme scheme goes AABCCB ...

Its fun!

Hugs, Liz

Here is an example from Liz....


All In The Mind...


The moon is full; an airy light
encircles it this eerie night.
A blood red ring.
The strangest shadow passes by
it floats across a blackened sky.
What was that thing?

I shiver; still I walk along
and look about--the shadows gone.
Afraid to see.
There's an evil presence a foot
a distant owl begins to hoot.
It's calling me.

When up ahead a witch on broom
begins to fly toward the moon.
A cackling caw.
She screeched and scowled into the dark,
it echoed through the streets and park.
Her hand a claw.

Her wicked hand reached out to me.
she tried to grab hold of my tee.
I raced away.
I headed home, and slammed the door
She could've followed, I'm not sure.
Here's where I'll stay.

The midnight hour had struck the clock
at twelve...ding dong, had sung tick tock.
What did this mean?
I hid beneath the candy seat,
and heard a voice say trick or treat...
It's Halloween!  

Why not try it!

[JustDaniel]

Ah, could be it be an occident
or just another precedent
that LorII's set?
I wonder where this tile will take
the takers; will it make them make
a higher bet?

I'll ante up, but gamble? no;
I'm only here to give a show
of how it works.
What happens next is up to you,
but careful where you park your shoe;
a serpent lurks.

sLightly tongue-in-shoe, Daniel  

[Cleo_Serapis]

Excellent and a speedy reply Daniel~san!

Cool! I must try this one if my feet will dance.... I'm plum tuckered out from these up at 5:30 & work all day - home at 5:30 - then treadmill or Tai-chi ) depending on day went to de-stress)  then dinner and cool-down.... By the time I log into MM, my eyes are shutting down...  :oops:  :upside:

Liz's entry would be good for Pandora too!  :pumpkin:

Cheers! :pharoah2

[JustDaniel]

No one's surprised you've not the time
to fool around with Logarhyme
at least just yet,
but I know when the time is right,
to stay away you'll have to fight
your muse, I'll bet!

Yet unlike Lim'ricks', steady beat
will sing inside you, stir your seat
till you arise
because your very heart will pound
and make your tongue or pen expound
to your surprise!

poeLightly prophesying, Daniel  

[Cybele]

Hello everyone,  

Looks like fun.

Just a quickie to get in the rhythm of things....


    Wait and Prey

    Patient kestrel shilly-shallying
    seeking varmints dilly-dallying
    in fields below,

    spies a vole whose wiggly-wagging
    stealing quietly, ziggy-zagging...
    “Ah! Lunch to go!”



N.B Last line picked up from watching American programmes on TV.      

Love

Grace

[JustDaniel]

Hmmm, Grace has joined another form;
ya think ere long we'll need reform?
Let's give a show!
Grab up some raisins, grapes an' prunes,
bran muffins, yogurt, fruit an' spoons;
it's lunch to go!

sLightly awry, Daniel  

[Cleo_Serapis]

 Divine Traditions  

There was a time when Druid priests
would celebrate the souls deceased
on fest Samhain.
Their crops ablaze in sacrifice
to surrender a sacred price
of faith within.

The spirits that do lurk about
are welcomed in the Eve on route
to places dwelled.
Cold Celtic lands would turn to dark
while costumed man would set his mark:
traditions held.

To honor Saints and martyrs too
the Cath’lics claimed deception, “Boo!”
on Hallow’s Eve.
A festival of Christian dead
complete with Jack-O-Lantern “Fred”
was soon conceived.

The Irish turned a turnip carved
with scary face and embers starved,
first lighted fruit.
A pumpkin patch soon entered scene
so recognized on Halloween
Pagan salute.

Remember when you give out treats
and welcome souls of those in sheets
at your front door,
give thanks to Celtic symbols shared
be wary and be rightly scared:
Divine folklore!

© Lorraine M Kanter

[Cybele]

Hello Lori,

This is just great.

Although we don't celebrate Hallowe'en as widely here in England, it is becoming more popular with the advent of Walmart (Asda over here) into almost every town and city.

A potted History of the Ages in one poem, not only well composed but also very informative.      

Love

Grace

[JustDaniel]

You said it well, my buddy Grace,
but LogaRhymin's in this space;
let's get it right!
You're s'posed ta answer with a pome,
or find yerself without a 'ome
when ground turns white.

We can't be 'avin' that 'round 'ere,
so listen up; you'd better 'ear:
"Write LogaRhymes!"
I know that sometimes you ferget,
so we'll fergive this little nit...
just two more times!

Lightly (and do notice, please, the bulging ckeek!), Daniel  

P.S.

I don't know much 'bout 'allowe'en...
nor all the months that fall between!!  somebody says.
Who said that, Grace?
...but Cleo said it right smart well,
so this weekend, come tide or 'ell
I'll carry mace!

[Cybele]

Hi Daniel,  


Now lookie ‘ere me yankee pal
yer talkin’ to a cockney gal
‘ose brought up right.
I never noo abaht this rool
‘an o! I do feel such a fool
I’m all uptight!

Feeling sicker than a parrot
bunny oo 'as lost ‘er carrot,
a silly clot!
I’ll do me best to keep me cool
(I feel I should go back to school)
an’ that’s yer lot !
 

Love

Grace

[JustDaniel]

You've got me laughin' up a storm!
The rool's me own... and just to warm
yer engine up!
Respond however you like best
but LogaRhymin' sure adds zest
inside yer cup.

If I believed you felt that bad
we'd ask you over to our pad
to talk it out,
so bring your parrot if it's true
and we'll provide the carrots too;
jest don't you pout!

Dear Cleo wants us all to dance;
our teasin's only to enhance
our writin' skills.
I'm smilin' here and chucklin' too
'cause all our skies in here are blue
above them hills.

Lightly, Daniel  

[JustDaniel]

I ain't done LogaRhymin' much;
ya think that I done lost me touch,
dear Grace, me friend?
I bumped this tile from way down there
with thoughts that I'd find you somewhere;
I hope to end
this dry spell that I've fallen to
in which the sky is cloudy blue...
and so am I.
I guessed mayhaps if I wrote light,
these clouds might part and give my sight
a clearer eye.
But whether you write back or not,
at least today I've gone 'n' got
me muse awake.
I know that she could turn on me,
but we'll just hafta wait 'n' see.
I will not quake.

[Cybele]

Hi Daniel,

I ain't done LogaRhymin' much;
ya think that I done lost me touch,
dear Grace, me friend?

Certainly not Daniel! It's like riding a bike, once learned never forgotten.

I am rather rusty at this form, but I have 'had a bash'. I have just returned from a sailing holiday and this popped into my mind.



Around the World

While sailing on the briny sea
a sudden thought occurred to me.
while at the wheel.

The point I like to keep my eyes on-
the slightest curve on the horizon’s,-
my Achilles heel.

How do I steer around the bend,
avoiding falling off the end
sail over keel?

[JustDaniel]

Greetings, your Grace!

Please allow this landlubber to respond with a bit of LogaRhyme:


Restricted to un-brainy sea,
few sudden thoughts occur to me
while at these keys,
but I have gained a small degree
of expertise, so let me see…
Your rhyme agrees.

Three lines, however, ain’t enough
but you have done a super bluff,
so I applaud.
You’ve captained well that giant wheel,
steered clear of craft who’d smash your keel;
I’m rather awed.

Now I await true LogaRhyme
in which you’ll turn upon a dime,
‘cause you’re ashore.
Your vehicle will transport you,
and I’ll stand by to clear your view,
just as before.

Lightly, Daniel  :sun:

[AMETHYST]

Kinships

My brothers been a vital part
of all that seeds my soaring heart.
I admire him.
He never sees the glass half full
and tells things straight, no lies or bull,
flys on a whim.

With vigilance, and confidence
he taught to me, independence
And I have learned
to spread my wings and take to flight
above the woes of worldly plight;
and all I've yearned.

[JustDaniel]

Grace's Home...

We's been away from here too long!
By now there oughta be a throng
at Grace's door
a poundin' fer ta let 'em in...
but no one's home. O, where's she been?
I must implore
your presence here again, Fair Grace
to warm the windows of this place
with tapestry
that you have sewn with seasoned hands
... and pictures that your cam'ra's panned
in artistry.
So open up your home again
for this ol' wandrin' minstrel man
ta set a spell.
I promise I won't stay too long
but always leave a riddle song...
as you know well.


strummin' Lightly, Daniel

[JustDaniel]

Ah, well...

Here's one from our first experience as election officials last month during New Jersey's primary voting at hour hometown, Bridgeton, published in the local paper:

Primary Purpose

Election days we now devote
our time, so others here can vote
for candidates,
but primaries don’t bring the crowds
in rain… or even when dark clouds
all dissipate.

Two hours pass, and no one comes
to cast a ballot; eyeballs numb…
they want to close.
Oho! Do I hear footsteps break
the hallway’s silence? Quick, we take
attentive pose.

It’s muggy here; the air hangs wet.
I’m dreamin’ I could run an’ set
the temper’ture.
Then, suddenly they say it’s cold.
Ya think that someone’s gettin’ old?
Not me, fer sher!

Instructions: English, Español
so everyone will know to poll
their choices here…
yet few votantes come inside.
A dozen voters may decide
who runs this year.

It’s almost lunchtime. Will they come
to use the new machines? They’re mum…
not one faint beep.
The big hand makes it’s trip around
wall clock… prepares for eight more rounds;
the hours creep.

A kindly visitor brings food.
Believe me, anything looks good
just sitting here.
We talk and eat to keep alert,
do puzzles, read the local dirt
for atmosphere.

We talk about the smoking ban.
There’s nowhere near where puffers can
indulge in it.
I wonder… Could folks start to chew?
or would they find no place to spew…
and gag or spit?

Republican or Democrat,
Ms Lizzy knows just where you’re at
in this small town.
We try to watch our P’s and Q’s,
but these contraptions sure confuse
an’ get ya down!

Another lull… we start to hear
about the Pearl Street Alley queer
an’ all the ‘pro’s
who operate in broad daylight
as though our mayor has no sight
above his nose.

Then there’s the new kid on the block
becomes the subject of ‘er talk—
a Peepin’ Pam
who asks two dollars for a trip
to Seabrook—then her shirt unzips…
you’re in a jam!

Election bored the residents
into not setting precedents
again this year?
Declaring who they’re voting for
might hook their name with Bush or Gore.
Is that the fear?

The people in the neighborhood
where they grew up ain’t up ta good;
so much has changed.
The factories all flew the coop…
an’ guys next door all pee an’ poop
outside—deranged!

An hour off to eat and rest…
the latter’s probably the best
for weary bones.
We pack up most, to take it home
so later we can nibble some
when we’re all done.

Okay, I’m back awake again,
but in the time between, my pen
was used just once.
The neighborhood has settled in;
stampeding will not soon begin,
I have a hunch.

At eight o’clock we close the polls
and tally up the votes; our roles
are nearly done.
We fold and pack the new machine
and do the paperwork between
our parting fun.

© MLee Dickens’son 06 June 2006

[Guest_Cathy_*]

Hi Daniel!

LOL

Two hours pass, and no one comes
to cast a ballot; eyeballs numb…
they want to close.
Oho! Do I hear footsteps break
the hallway’s silence? Quick, we take
attentive pose. I can just see you snapping to attention at the sound of footsteps!

It’s muggy here; the air hangs wet.
I’m dreamin’ I could run an’ set
the temper’ture.
Then, suddenly they say it’s cold.
Ya think that someone’s gettin’ old?
Not me, fer sher! LOL Can't make up their minds?

A kindly visitor brings food. At least they didn't forget you! LOL
Believe me, anything looks good
just sitting here.
We talk and eat to keep alert,
do puzzles, read the local dirt
for atmosphere.

We talk about the smoking ban.
There’s nowhere near where puffers can
indulge in it.
I wonder… Could folks start to chew?
or would they find no place to spew…
and gag or spit? Oh my! Somewhat disgusting don't you think??

You should post this for critique! I'm sure others would enjoy it too!

Cathy

[AMETHYST]

A Stolen Youth


I don't remember childhood years;
milestones once built on smiles and tears.
such days are lost.
No recollection of the dreams
that fueled the fires of life long schemes...
oh such a cost.

Each memory is hid away
beneath the worries of today,
I have no time;
my mind is overwhelmed with cares
of meloncholic woes and fears
that steal my prime.

The days fly by without a pause,
I feel my life's a hopeless cause
So much to do...
but how can I become carefree
when dreams are just a fantasy.
And nothing's new.

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi Liz.

Boy is this one hitting home! I must make a go of this form!

Each memory is hid away
beneath the worries of today,
I have no time;
my mind is overwhelmed with cares
of meloncholic woes and fears
that steal my prime.
I think we all can relate to this stanza, no time to enjoy life or fulfill the dreams we have when we are so busy with the daily grind. Time passes far too quickly.

The days fly by without a pause,
I feel my life's a hopeless cause
So much to do...
but how can I become carefree
when dreams are just a fantasy.
And nothing's new.

One must have dreams - attainable ones at least. I am learning that no matter how little time we think we have, there's got to be a happy medium in it somewhere. We all need to slolw down, and allow ourselves a dose of it.

Well versed Liz - makes me think of our to re-arrange my own time!
~Cleo

[AMETHYST]

Thank you Lori,

I haven't written anything in so long with the exception of 1 recent poem. I decide to the juices going w/the Karnak threads... And perhaps post something for critique after I polish if off abit.

That stanza is the one I can most relate with too. I think many of us rush around not taking time to enjoy life too often.

Hugs, Liz ...
Look for more of these... I love the way they sound.

[JustDaniel]

"I don't remember childhood years"

has such significance for me... but for different reasons than your well-done poem portrays... though I identify with the content here as well.

It's hard to believe you've not written much... and I miss interacting with your always excellent insight.

Love in Light, Daniel

[JustDaniel]

I’m ambling in the woods again
where I escape with pad and pen…
yet mustn’t leave
my chair, for I would not return;
that wanderlust would twist and churn…
my mind deceive.

I dare not quit my desk today;
unanswered calls, home visits weigh
upon my mind.
Vacation left some work undone,
so now is not the time for fun…
back to the grind.

[Cleo_Serapis]

Vacation left some work undone,
so now is not the time for fun…
back to the grind.


Back to the grind again Daniel - I can relate to that one.

Hope you are relaxing away from work now....

[AMETHYST]

"I don't remember childhood years"

has such significance for me... but for different reasons than your well-done poem portrays... though I identify with the content here as well.

It's hard to believe you've not written much... and I miss interacting with your always excellent insight.

Love in Light, Daniel B)

Hi Daniel,

Sorry I hadn't gotten back to this... Sometimes, with time constraints, I have to decided which forums to spend time in while on line.

I miss interacting with you and learning from you as well...

Thank you...

Your latest Logarhyme is also quite fitting and in my mind and life, I can more than relate--It is as if someone is writing about me and what is going on in my life... THank you... for sharing

Best Wishes, Liz

[JustDaniel]

Thirst Comes First

I'm pleased to find your voice in here;
along the way, one bell's pealed clear:
To write of me
is apt to loose a readers' chains
to face those run-away-from pains
I feel and see.

Third-person writing does help teach,
but oft a reader's thought I'd preached...
and run away;
but when we sense we speak of me
it's easier for us to see
ourselves... an' stay.

© 07 Aug 2006 MLee Dickens'son

deLightin' in the process, Daniel

[AMETHYST]

Thirst Comes First

I'm pleased to find your voice in here;
along the way, one bell's pealed clear:
To write of me
is apt to loose a readers' chains
to face those run-away-from pains
I feel and see.

Third-person writing does help teach,
but oft a reader's thought I'd preached...
and run away;
but when we sense we speak of me
it's easier for us to see
ourselves... an' stay.

© 07 Aug 2006 MLee Dickens'son

deLightin' in the process, Daniel

Very powerful message. Don't quite well. When you have some time, perhaps posting it for revision will weed out any little clunks and bring out the profound message for many others to see. I think the message here is valuable and needs to be read by many.

Best Wishes, Liz

[JustDaniel]

.... When you have some time, perhaps posting it for revision will weed out any little clunks and bring out the profound message for many others to see. I think the message here is valuable and needs to be read by many.

Best Wishes, Liz

Thanks, Liz... and I'll post it as my next one in Homely Herman's Hideaway... as soon as I can rent a space.

dashing... sLightly, Daniel

[AMETHYST]

On This Night- Logarhyme

Tonight's the night, I wait all year
to fill with fright and put in fear
all who will call.
When little goblins, ghosts or imp
come trick or treating, watch me limp
stumble and fall;

I needn't wear a costumed dress
for on this night I must confess
No mask have I.
Old pumpkin head is who I am
my fame recalled; that little lamb
I once made cry.

A knocking on my door it came,
and witnessed me lighting the flame
on candle wick-
The little lamb had took to flight
into a dark Halloween night.
My treat, his trick...

To see me there, by light of moon
with orange smirk just like a loon
noone would ask-
When midnight strikes, I'll go and hide
my pumpkin grin, all tucked inside
a handsome mask.

[AMETHYST]

My shoeless ex in garbage stench
was sitting quiet on a bench,
this early morn.
I quickly asked why was he there
but he just sat, grub in his hair-
his clothing torn.

I tried directing him inside
to save myself a little pride;
no neighbor's out.
He mumbled, grumbled, stumbled up
and on his feet, said "Hey's what's up"
he yelled quite loud-

I led him in, walked down the hall
toward the bathroom's shower stall.
An aweful smell
coverd about with gravy and goop
a slight scenting of doggy poop,
oh what the hell ...

In his rambling I heard him say,
"I came to call this holiday
and have a chat-
I slipped a passed your window sill
intent to offer a sudden thrill;
stepped on the cat.

The dog awoke and chased me down
I jumped the fence, and there I found
a garbage can.
This guy appeared within my sight
and gave to me an awful fright,
who was that man?

[JustDaniel]

That's quite a story, Liz, my friend;
I hope there is a pleasant end
to give us too.
There's myst'ry hid inside your lines
that sends sharp chills all up my spine;
is all this true?

appreciatin' Light, Daniel

[jgdittier]

Dear All,
This is a real peach of a thread. I doubt I've ever read a better thread!
Cheers, ron

[JustDaniel]

Too many months have passed since we
have played this tune. Some repartee
is overdue.
No Grace, no Liz... we've lost their fizz...
but we can get 'em back, gee whiz,
to fill their pew!

[Larry]

Hi Daniel,

I read this thread with great interest and amusement. Thought I'd give it a try. If I have failed to comply with the rules of this form, let me know.

Larry



Impaled upon the vagaries
of fate; or fortune if you please
I shall embark
upon a yet untraveled trail
of Logarhyme, which may entail
trips into dark
or dimly lighted errant steps.
I know precursor guidance helps
me through the stark
and scary realm of something new.
Where this may lead, I can’t construe.
It’s just a lark.

[JustDaniel]

Dear Larry, you have started well,
and where you go, no one can tell,
but I expect
with how you've written here thus far,
you'll move ahead, pass many a star
you'll intersect.

You've used enjambment well, my friend,
continuing right through the end.
I tip my hat.
I've nothing more to teach you here,
so move ahead, where'er you steer.
Frame them with matte.


deLightingly, Daniel

[Larry]

Thanks Daniel!

I'm so delighted that I got
a big thumbs-up; it means a lot
coming from you.
For in this form, words seem to dance
from tongue to page, given the chance
and thus, imbue
the thoughts we wish to share with those
poetical or even prose.
Although they're few,
a permeating swell of rhyme
entices strangers to this clime
'till there's a queue.

Larry

[Larry]

Here then is my first real attempt to write a long Logarhyme. Hope it pleases!

Love Bug Billions

There is a tale I must impart
about a plague which seems to start
as summer wanes.
It’s not a virus or a germ
but its effect I can confirm.
No baseless claims
are made of the severity.
It’s rampant, the epitome
of Southern woes.
Entomologic magnitude’s
extent must not be misconstrued
for Nature throws
a plethora of wing’ed swarms;
red-eyed with lust, in fields and farms
which nothing eats.
In tandem flight, they’re always seen;
a procreating bug machine
‘till it completes
that yearly rite, but I digress.
I’m here to tell you of the mess
they leave on cars.
The Love-bug’s why I’m so aggrieved
through evolution, they’ve achieved
adhesions stars.
For reasons unbeknownst to man
they’re filled with glue which no one can
get off with ease.
On roads and streets, on freeways too
they turn to kamikaze goo
on glass and paint
of every car and truck. The blight
continues on both day and night
without constraint.
I’ve seen the evidence first hand
of body parts which can withstand
ten gravities
while pasted to a speeding car.
Your wiper blades will only jar
your fantasies.
If there’s an innovative mind
who can concoct or maybe find
a way to glean
that magical adhesive blend
of love-struck bugs will comprehend
what riches mean!

[JustDaniel]

Oar Again

I'm sorry that it took so long
for me to read your sad, sad song
about love bugs.
The sticky subject fills my mind
with things that I have left behind...
with great heart-tugs.
But I cannot be thinking now
of what's behind, for I must plow
the furrow here
and plant and water; then I'll reap
what I have sown, and then dig deep
to be austere
'til we retire with something saved
since former years that we had braved
ere starting o'er
with nothing sixteen years ago
and marching through the ebb and flow...
who knows what for?

© MLee Dickens'son

[Larry]

"He" Provides

It's sad that you must now restart
retirements hedge. It breaks my heart
for I'm as old
as you my friend. I now depend
on checks from "Sam", watch what I spend
and what I fold.
I ne'er would ask "What was the cause?"
Being so rude would give me pause.
That wouldn't do.
So I'll just say, "Good Luck", "God Speed",
I know He tends to every need
and so do you.

[JustDaniel]

We ran a mission right from scratch,
helped many folks, did not detach
until too late.
I didn't act as some advised
and ended up hospitalized;
it was my fate.

My family finished up the year;
the school-year months are just a blear
inside my brain.
We used the little we'd accrued
to get a mortgage, acting shrewd.
We'd start again

with nothing but my Chaplaincy
and temporary jobs; we'd see
what God would do.
Now ten and seven years have passed
and Uncle Sam pays me at last,
soon Eileen too.

But we must work at least a while,
repairing, sharing without wile
to pay our bills.
A year or two, or maybe three
we may retire, but we will see
through all our ills.

[Larry]

You gave your all but more than that
you gave much more while others sat
upon their hands.
New life and second chances doled
to all in need should be extoled
by marching bands.
What you have done impresses me,
I laud your generosity
for I, like them
was homeless without love or care
when folks like you had both to share.
My eyes still brim
with unshed tears. Your treasures lie
in wait when e'er you bid goodbye
to live with Him.

[JustDaniel]

Your words mean much to me, my friend;
this long delay was not the end
that I had sought.
Sometimes we don't know what to say
when folks commend us, so we stay
in silent thought.

I hope my silence hasn't seemed
that I don't care; you are esteemed
by me, for sure.
Just know that though I'm forward oft,
to you my old black hat is doffed.
I've been demure.

I'm focusing on losing weight
lest leaving you should be my fate --
and far too soon.
The exercise I do as well
is helping; anyone can tell --
small gut-balloon.

Along the way I'm being blithe;
my goal is to be once more lithe --
at least not fat.
I hope at length, when I retire
that I won't gradually re-tire.
Please, abs, stay flat!

[Larry]

In silence, we must contemplate
the choice of words which may relate
just how we feel
when given praise. Although it's earned
by unsung deeds, false pride is spurned;
has no appeal.

This sharing self, when times are hard,
brings two-fold gifts as a reward
which I'll relate.
The first is a more humble mien
from helping those, the poor unseen,
their need is great.

The other gift you'll get, my friend
is you will have much less to spend
on treats or snacks.
This should assist you in your goal
of slimming down as you cajole
chocolate attacks.

Abs will stay flat if you abstain,
and size with exercise remain
but it's a chore.
This calls for lots of sacrifice;
no bread with butter; no more rice...
blandness explore.

[JustDaniel]

There's much to eat that is not bland
though much of it is not at hand;
you have to look
in unfamiliar places where
before to go, you would not dare
but you mistook

what you'd not tried for something bad --
a wondrous taste you've never had
but now you know
there's more out there to seek and find
and places where you've never dined;
search high and low.

Ere long, you'll find a sumptuous dish
that's made of vegetables and fish
and makes you lean
towards the lighter side of food,
'cause losing fat is always good
when you're between

obese and morbidly obese.
Your bread and butter has to cease
or you will die
of heart disease or cancer or
be prostrate, beached upon the shore --
there choked on pie.

[Larry]

If that pie were mincemeat, I would choke
though I know it's enjoyed by come folk,
never been one of them.
Coconut or pecan on the beach
sounds quite nice. Think I'd have one of each
or key-lime. On a whim,

I have tried other country's cuisine
with delight, though some were garish green
made from sea-weed, I guess.
Others curried and spiced with, "who knows?"
They were delicacies I suppose
but not mine. I confess

to a penchant for food from the south.
Etouffee or gumbo in my mouth
is like Heaven on earth.
Though from Texas, I like chili too
and a big plate of good barbecue
which might add to my girth.

Thank the Lord for my genetic past
which made my metabolic rate fast;
sedentary I'm not.
I work harder now that I'm retired.
It's as if gardening has conspired
that I not go to pot.

[JustDaniel]

Who'd think our Larry would invent
another form; is there intent?
Loglimerhyme ?
He starts it off as limerick
with no iambs. Is this a trick?
We'll see in time.

Quite honestly, I think that he
got carried off with Lim'ricks, see?
It's no surprise;
excitement with the form can make
you go in tangents 'til it takes
you as its prize.

Loglimerhymes won't likely gain
a place that we must then maintain
to be complete.
We'll let it die and move along
and not expect a growing throng
that must retreat.

[Larry]

Retreat from innovative change?
Just thought I'd try to rearrange
the metric pace.
'Twas purposeful, for my intent
to use the Limerick form's extent
might then efface

parameters of certain rules
now taught, by rote, in writing schools.
Their noose pulled tight
diminishes creativeness
which most now lack so I would guess
the poet's plight

could be pedantic guides. Without
a tiny tweak, I have no doubt
there would not be
the sonnets of Shakespeare and those
of Browning or Millay. They chose
a different key.

I care not if the torch I lit
goes out or maybe burns a bit
before its death.
I only want to stretch the bounds
of verse 'till doctrinaire hell-hounds
run out of breath.

[JustDaniel]

Iamb so sorry, Larry friend.
I hope my words did not offend
your wondrous heart.
I also love to stretch the rules
while making use of all the tools;
I think it's part

of how new forms come to the fore:
at first some can't come through the door
that's been locked fast.
Some utilize it anyway;
ere long the new form wins the day...
purebreds aghast!

So....

Loglimerhymes seem really fun;
though surely for not everyone,
so I offer you mine.
I certainly do understand
and certify your fledgling brand;
it's deliciously fine.

Iamb sure that you'll note that iambs
are required in pure Logarhyme brand
yet your variant is
but a breath of fresh air to my ears
so I hope this allays any fears
and you won't let it fizz.

deLightedly, Daniel

[Larry]

Let it fizz? Well gee-whiz, I had thought
there was interest in what I had wrought
as a jest or a game
some might play. Anyway, I liked yours.
Flattering emulation ensures
some brief fame, but the name

which you coined feels just right. Thanks so much!
The Loglimerhyme title, as such
shall be known by a few
who might try it. Deny it exists?
It can not be undone. I'll persist
but there's only we two

who have written such stanzas. I'll say
I'm enamored in the weirdest way
but I won't push this form.
Logarhymes are done with the iamb
so I'll follow the rules like a lamb
though I do hate the "norm".

Maybe if a new thread were to start
others who break the rules might impart
their ideas in this way.
But the minimal interest I see
in all forums just convinces me
Loglimerymes won't play.

RIP LOL

[JustDaniel]

The course is set with your new tile;
your variation won't defile
the Logarhyme;
We shan't confuse folks in this thread
with how we stretch the rules; the dread
won't bloom this time.

We're free to spread and dry our wings
creating strange and wondrous things
that sometimes fail
and sometimes blossom like a rose.
Let no one say that Larry froze;
we soar and flail.

[Larry]

We’ll soar and hope that we won’t fail
to gain some interest as well.
Loglimerhymes
are lots of fun, as you well know,
and give you freedom with the flow
of verse sometimes.

I do appreciate the tile;
it brought surprise and then a smile
wide as my face.
The credit for the name is yours;
I just hope that its strangeness lures
more than a trace

of curiosity, intrigue;
but until then we stand in league
and wait a bit.
Then, as you say, a rose may bloom
and flowering, will fill the room
without a crit.

[JustDaniel]

Without a crit, some roses bloom
but most of us need help to groom
their blossoming.
Let's post new pieces there for crit
and hope the forum will come lit
from possuming.

[JustDaniel]

Here's one from last week's Flash Jam 97:

... now with the inadvertently omitted final line of S1! Thanks, Larry!!!


Dear Writer's Block

Dear writer's block, it's I, not you
who's got my thinking in a stew.
You're always there
to put a noose around my neck
when I am hearing "What the heck!"
That is your fare.

But I've not heard it for a while,
and though your gift is not from guile
I can't accept.
I write because it whirs inside
although sometimes it's misapplied,
and I'm inept.

So, good or bad I spew it out,
'cause I'm not gonna sit an' pout
about your rope.
It matters not if others read;
their absence simply won't impede.
It's how I cope.

© MLee Dickens'son 2013

[Larry]

Un-trans furred tail


If rhyme and beat, properly spaced,
were written out I’d cut and paste
my thoughts for you
to read. Enjoy each witty phrase
I’ve labored with to garner praise
as is my due

but something is amiss my friend
for Logarhymes must have an end
in each tercet.
Your second one is lacking that;
I wonder where it’s gone or at
but I would bet

the mouse’s shadow which you use
is more at fault than is your muse
and left it there
upon your document in Word.
Without the end, it looks absurd.
Can you repair?

[JustDaniel]

I've now repaired it, as you see.
I do not know how lines so flee
from little Mouse.
I use her all the time, of course,
and maybe sometimes I'm too coarse
when in my house.

I'll try to be more gentle now
and see if that will help somehow
to calm the tyke.
I'm grateful that you checked me out,
or others soon would think, no doubt,
that I'm a psyche!

Lightly, Daniel

[Larry]

You're not a psyche, Daniel my man;
although sometimes, you surely can
contort a phrase
to difficult. Impossible
to figure out unless I mull
and blankly gaze

while cogitating what you mean
'till finally its meaning glean
ere brain is fried.
Control and c, control and v...
but in this case, obviously
it's misapplied.

[JustDaniel]

Sometimes I simply make mistakes
as when my mental substance flakes
and clogs the flow
of juices in my cranium
so something that I say is dumb.
I'm no Thoreau.

I'm glad that you can figure out
betimes what I have said; no doubt
you'll keep me humble.
You often ask me what I mean
or point out things I should have seen
for oft I stumble!

[Larry]

I stumble too, when something's strange
but mainly when you rearrange
the posted form.
Is that permissible to do;
to add an extra beat or two
over the norm?

Or is it something else instead
where you are messing with my head
for humor's sake?
If not, then I shall have to spend
time to confirm the female end's
not a mistake.

[JustDaniel]

Good grief!!!

I'd just completed a three stanza response to this that I was also going to post for critique....

and Microsoft decided to shut my computer down without warning to do UPDATES!!!!! Obviously I LOST the whole thing. And I think there was even some tongue-in-cheek profundity in it. Not sure I'll be able to recreate it!!!! I'm discouraged!!!

sLightly upset, Daniel

[Larry]

Sorry about that Daniel,

If you have MS Office's newest Word program, you may be able to find it in "recent documents" and there is also an "auto-save" for inadvertently deleted files. Hope you find it!

Larry

[JustDaniel]

Thanks, Larry. Unfortunately I was using VoicePerfect. I had even just COPIED it, so if the computer had not shut down, even the the PASTE did not complete (I had actually just pasted it to MM, but it didn't 'take', since Microsoft was in the process of shutting down my computer. Yes, If I'd successfully pasted it to MS, I would have been able to recover it, but alas.... Maybe I'll be able to recreate it, if I can wrestle through my frustration and negative expectation of it.

deLighting in your encouragement, Daniel

[Larry]

To recreate; first, you will need
a comfy chair and then proceed
to read the post
while you relax. The one by me
which did inspire. Perhaps you’ll see
the muse’s ghost

which hovers, slightly out of reach
with hints and thoughts. You may beseech,
implore or ask
for one more peek. Apologize
that words were all technologized
before your task

of sharing them with all the world
was done, complete. They were e-hurled
into the net.
Perhaps your muse will grant reprieve
and help you out, let you retrieve
that long lost set.

[JustDaniel]

I fear that set is off somewhere
a-weepin' in a deep despair
that it can't find
me any more, but then alas
I still sit here upon my gas-
emitting hind.

[Larry]

This flatulence, which you emit
while in a funk about that bit
of Logarhyme,
may be the cause your Muse has split
in fear the gas may burn if lit
and flaming clime

will catch his ancient robe afire.
Does your posterior conspire
with methane’s scent
to drive your muse further away?
Just use Gas-X or floral spray
and he’ll relent.

Mayhap a change of appetite
might be conducive; apposite
to stop the leak.
If not, I don’t know what you’ll do
to win him back, but I construe
the future’s bleak.

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi Larry,

I haven't written one of these in like forever, so if you don't mind, I am going to copy the end words of each line in your poem below.
Here goes:

The time has come, it's true, I'll need
to take control, and then proceed
to write a post
that pleases me.
It takes some thought, but soon I see
past writer's ghost

(which tortures me). I strive to reach
coherent rhymes, and not beseech
the ones who ask
for clarity. Apologize?
I've tried and then technologized
the bloody task.

It seems in this chaotic world
where change is slow: my muse been's hurled
without a net--
phantom quicksand. Soon comes reprieve:
I break the trap, grin and retrieve
game, match and set.

To recreate; first, you will need
a comfy chair and then proceed
to read the post
while you relax. The one by me
which did inspire. Perhaps you’ll see
the muse’s ghost

which hovers, slightly out of reach
with hints and thoughts. You may beseech,
implore or ask
for one more peek. Apologize
that words were all technologized
before your task

of sharing them with all the world
was done, complete. They were e-hurled
into the net.
Perhaps your muse will grant reprieve
and help you out, let you retrieve
that long lost set.

[Larry]

Hi Lori, I don't mind at all. In fact, I like the end-rhymes so much, I'll use them once more!


Lori, I fear that you will need
refresher courses to proceed
before you post
another Logarhyme to me
because line four, as you can see
is but a ghost

with two beats gone or out of reach
when pasted here. I now beseech
you and would ask
you, “come and fix”! Apologize?
No need! You’ve been technologized
on this small task.


Two beats in Logarhyming world
is not a lot but brains are hurled
through ether-net
to land and crash with no reprieve.
Add two da-dum’s and help retrieve
that synapse set.


Hee-Hee!!!

[Cleo_Serapis]

Oh my!!!
I hope this isn't a sign Larry! I started to write that line and then forgot to fill it in all the way!

here goes:

The time has come, it's true, I'll need
to take control, and then proceed
to write a post
that fits the bill and pleases me.
It takes some thought, but soon I see
past writer's ghost

(which tortures me). I strive to reach
coherent rhymes, and not beseech
the ones who ask
for clarity. Apologize?
I've tried and then technologized
the bloody task.

It seems in this chaotic world
where change is slow: my muse been's hurled
without a net--
phantom quicksand. Soon comes reprieve:
I break the trap, grin and retrieve
game, match and set.

Tada!!!!!

[Larry]

It’s been so long that I forgot
to answer back. I’ve gone to pot
or headed there.
I meant to come with some kudos
but senior moments, I suppose
hit me. I swear!

Your ghostly muse has reappeared
and with your end-rhyme use endeared
me to your post.
Now if some others, new and old,
would pass this way with rhymes well told
then we could coast

into another page or three
of Logarhymes but you and me
with Daniel’s aide
may never keep this thread alive.
Although, prolifically we strive
I am afraid

that this poor thread will soon expire.
Like others here, they’ll fuel the fire
and turn to ash
through which the little spiders crawl
while spinning webs and turn it all
to piles of trash.

Larry

[Cleo_Serapis]

Well done Larry!

I'll be back soon to respond! At work right now, last day for a week, then some much needed R&R, so it's CRAZY busy as usual... We've got 30 or so new products coming out this Autumn - YES -- it's true -- BIG changes for Bose so I have been a BUSY, BUSY gal!

Talk soon!
~Cleo

[Larry]

Not a Sound

It’s been a month since I have heard
or seen a post but Lori’s word
is always kept.
She’s busy with her daily work
after her R & R; a perk,
and then she slept

in restful ease. No boss to please!
She’s busy as a dozen bees
with lots of toys
which are acoustically best.
The sound’s divine, I can attest
it’s more than noise.

I wonder if… it’s just a thought,
but since a lot of phones are fraught
with lousy mics
whose bad output gives ears a pain;
so too the “pads” and “pods” contain
a lot of “yikes!”.

Why can’t Bose make a little case
which holds all those in an embrace
and magnify
their tinny music and improve
the quality. It would behoove
someone to try.



Seriously Lori, this thought came to me when someone I know let me listen to what should have been good music on their I-phone. It sounded like a poorly tuned calliope instead of the rich full sound one gets from a decent amplifier system.

Larry

[Cleo_Serapis]

Thanks for the reminder Larry - SWAMPED at work getting ready for 'go-live' - final approvals this week. I WILL be back - I owe 2 responses now, lol!

Cheers,
~Cleo

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi Larry,

Reply #1...

The Gnome's in Town

My wit is sharp, yet I forgot
to plant today. My “Suzie” pot
is over there
and blooming strong. I’ll seek kudos
when planting’s done. You don’t suppose
I heard it swear?

Enchanting gnome has reappeared
to whisper thoughts he has endeared
along that post.
Stark country fence, while it is old
screams ‘Lean on me!’ so I’ve been told.
That gnome can coast

along the rails. Wait! Now there’s three!
Could it be true? It’s not just me?
He’s called for aide!
It seems to me, they’re quite alive--
these helper bees. They do not strive
to be afraid

and yet, the time will come-- expire
like fading blooms, akin to fire
that turns to ash.
And from the earth, next spring they’ll crawl
out from the dust. Yes! One and all . . .
They’ll not be trash.

[Larry]

Better Late Than Never

Another week has gone! Alas,
that number 2 has yet to pass
by bleary eyes
which peer into the catacombs
of forum halls where no one roams.
I proselytize
to ghosts of Poe, Shakespeare and Keats;
and though my voice cajoles, entreats
there's no one here
to listen or conform. I feel
a deathly silence at my heel
and know a bier
is down the hall and to the right.
The echoes fading into night
will dissipate
because there's no one left to read
or write. I'll stay and intercede
but it's too late.

[Cleo_Serapis]

I know Larry.

What has happened? Things were doing well - steady anyways. And lately, not much doing.

I have to tell you about my "bat" story but will see if I can reply with it in a poem. Woke up at 3am this morning to a bat flying circles over my head in the bedroom - EEEEEEwwwwwwww!!! My house is being painted and the only thing I can think of, which might be coincidence, is that the painters blocked off an entry/exit point. Never had a bat in this house in my 4+ years here. We tried to toss a blanket over it after taking a screen out of a window but the thing flew downstairs and then we lost sight of it at 5am. TWO hours of chasing a bat. We ended up working from home today but still - we were told to look for it again tonight in the house and try to close off the room then call this animal control/wildlife guy to come over. If we can't get it blocked in one room then the fun will begin yet again - GROSS!!!!

Not fun!!!!
Talk soon.
Lori

[Larry]

No Belfry - "tweaked"

As laughter’s tremors still, subside;
amusement’s tears are nearly dried
but lie in wait
for pictures placed within my mind
by Lori. Comedy defined
will percolate
into another round or two
of thoughts about our Lori’s zoo
of wasps and bat.
The poor Chiroptera confused
the house for caves it often used
to hang its hat.
Then Lori, with a sheet in hand
ran through the night. It wasn’t planned
but mayhem on
a grand and comic scale ensued.
The cat was bored, not in the mood
nor would condone
the effort needed to attack
a flying rat for midnight snack
but went to sleep.
But still, our girl was on the prowl
for that small black nocturnal fowl
with high-pitched cheep.
No sleep was had that day, instead
they searched each room with fear and dread
but had no luck.
As dusk relieved four blood-shot eyes
they found the radar rat that flies
and makes them duck.
When finally freed, they hung around
the sun room where dear Lori found
a comfy seat,
then realized what brought bats there
was nests of wasps. Time to prepare...
Bon Appétit!


Thanks Lori!

-------------------------------------------------------------

No Belfry

As laughter’s tremors still, subside;
amusement’s tears are nearly dried
but lie in wait
for pictures placed within my mind
by Lori. Comedy defined
will percolate
into another round or two
of thoughts about our Lori’s zoo
of wasps and bat.
The poor Chiroptera confused
the house for caves it often used
to hang its hat.
Then Lori, with a sheet in hand
ran through the night. It wasn’t planned
but mayhem on
a grand and comic scale ensued.
The cat was bored, not in the mood
nor would condone
the effort needed to attack
a flying rat for midnight snack
but went to sleep.
But still, our girl was on the prowl
for that small black nocturnal fowl
with high-pitched cheep.
No sleep was had that night, instead
they searched each room with fear and dread
but had no luck.
As morn peeked into blood-shot eyes
they found the radar rat that flies
and makes them duck.
When finally freed, they hung around
the sun room where dear Lori found
a comfy seat,
then realized what brought bats there
was nests of wasps where they could share
something to eat.
or
bon appétit

[Cleo_Serapis]

Ha ha ha~!!!!!! Very funny Larry!

Now I owe 3 replies methinks. Oh boy!!! Do bats eat wasps? We did a little more "patchwork" on the sunroom's roof Sunday as we found a larger "hole" near where the nest was - black caulk, caulk-gun and a putty knife are our "best friends" at present!!

I watch the bats every night at 7:40 sharp fly around the yard - two days ago they were joined by a third smaller one - I think it might be a baby ?? As long I see them outside, I can sleep!!!!! LOL LOL LOL

I'll be back soon!
~Cleo

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi Larry - a few thoughts:

No sleep was had that night, instead
they searched each room with fear and dread
but had no luck.
As morn peeked into blood-shot eyes
they found the radar rat that flies
and makes them duck.
When finally freed, they hung around
the sun room where dear Lori found
a comfy seat,
then realized what brought bats there
was nests of wasps where they could share
something to eat.
or
bon appétit

No sleep was had that day, instead
they searched each room with fear and dread
but had no luck.
As dusk peered into blood-shot eyes
they found the radar rat that flies
and makes them duck.
When finally freed, they hung around
the sun room where dear Lori found
a comfy seat,
then realized what brought bats there
was nests of wasps. Time to prepare . . .
bon appétit!!

[Larry]

Hi Lori,

Sorry it's taken so long to get back! It is, after all, your story and I'll make the requested changes with a possible tweak or two.

Larry

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi Larry,

I finally bought a new computer! Been busy trying to acclimate to Windows8, Internet Explorer 10 and Office 2013. YIKES!!! Now, I need to add all my favorites and see if my OLD hard drive will allow me to copy the files to this new laptop.

Gotta run but will be back online real soon!!!
Cheers,
~Cleo

[JustDaniel]

I'm strugglin' with my old laptop,
and all attempts to write just flop....
I'm outa gas.
I'm mediocre at my best
and seem to fail at ev'ry test...
here on my... rear.

But I'll respond to keep this new
although my piece is quite askew...
and maybe crass.
So here it is for you to read;
I hope it sows a little seed...
so please don't jeer!

[Larry]

Apple for the Teacher

I would not jeer nor would condone
disparaging remarks cast on
a posted piece
because this place is where we hone
our craft. If funny, I may moan
and beg surcease.
It's not a forum where crits fly
about the room for change, deny
the merits of
a Logarhyme. It's not child's-play
to pen and in the genre stay
or rise above
the realm of mediocrity.
I'd say you write them just like me
as well you ought
because you've taken up the task
of teaching others. Time to bask!
Insight is taught.

[JustDaniel]

My inseam's taut because my pants
are stretched beyond the patch-implants
I added on.
I've lost a little weight of late
but still I'm hauling too much freight.
Perhaps anon
I'll loose a little hear and there
especially if I prepare
some balanced meals
while exercising twice a week--
or more if I am at my peak--
't would be ideal.

[Larry]

It would be most ideal but age
has crept upon us, turned the page;
now we’re too old.
Although we strive to exercise
our bellies flat or trim our thighs
the truth be told
we’ve not a chance. Our bodies changed
and all our shape is rearranged
by gravity.
It’s though a force beyond our ken
has locked a door, we can’t go in
and you, like me,
must face the fact that garnered weight
will stay with us. It is our fate
that diets fail
and all the self-help books will cease
to help us with that slight decrease
of our big tale!

[Cleo_Serapis]

As time flies by, I’m caught—alas
between two tasks. I shall not pass
the buck. These eyes
can see beyond the catacombs,
inviting ev’ry one who roams
to come, Arise!
Pick up your pen, be one like Keats
and make your mark; the muse entreats.
Let’s start it here.
Imagination comes, soon feel
that beating march, spin on your heel
away from bier
that waits beyond, just to the right
where junkets wreaking of ‘blocks’ night
will dissipate.
And when your written words--they'll read
those critics long to intercede . . .
It’s not too late.

[Larry]

It’s not too late to enter seeds
into the ground, delay impedes
the planting of
a new idea in the mind.
Procrastination is unkind
to those who love
the written word… to sow a thought
upon a mental garden. Naught
will grow and feed
the hungry soul which searches for
the food of gods. Your cultivar
may fill that need
but you will never know if each
new concept, never shared, would reach
a fertile clime.
Reveal that image from your heart,
dispense a vision to impart
a dream, sublime.

[Keith Logan]

This, if memory serves was the original logarhyme. It was a deliberate attempt to set a jaunty rhythm for a "Lady in Waiting" poem that would have a happy ending. I love a happy ending. (In common with Jane Austen, my favorite author.) I suspect it is borrowed from Rabbie Burns or Rudyard Kipling, both of which influenced my formative years.
Keith, the happy chappy

Lady in Waiting

A thousand years ago and more
upon a strange and distant shore
a maiden wept.
She watched and waited long in vain
within her heart a mounting pain,
she seldom slept.

O that my love might come to me
she cried her silent, doleful plea,
a stifled moan.
The sun would rise, the sun would set,
and still the lovers never met,
she stood alone.

Then hove a sail in view one dawn
as seabirds sang in tuneful song
to welcome home,
the one whose heart ached for the maid
with fortune won, his plans were laid,
no more to roam.

[Cleo_Serapis]

Oh - how lovely!!! Were you the one who created this form Keith?

[Keith Logan]

Around 10 years ago and more I did my rhyming on several poetry sites. (The very first one I discovered was called Salty Dreams.) I think this form took shape on a site called something like "Post Poems" or maybe "Poems Place". It may even have been Liz that named the form. I don't consider myself a poet, I don't take life seriously. I'm content to be a rhymer and a happy chappy. Also, as I said above, the poetic guidelines that it follows almost certainly existed before. There is nothing new under the sun.

Keith, the happy chappy

ps: as a simple rhymer the idea of copyright or need for permissions to use my scribblings is quite alien to me.

An Update...
The lady lived contentedly
within a castle by the sea
for time unending.
As daily she watched o'er the water,
she and her devoted daughter
household mending.

Her husband yet was lion hearted,
but from her side had not departed,
come what may.
Though others went to war for glory,
he knew too well the age old story;
how women pray.

Soon enough would come in sight
some educated noble knight
his charge to wed.
Till then the husband and proud father
would the sweetest love in-gather,
his soul well fed.

[Larry]

Love’s Call

Though soul was fed when roaming ceased
and progeny his line increased,
he longed for more.
His treasures gathered ‘cross the seas
were dwindling now to coin and lees.
He’d soon be poor.

The lady, who had waited long,
could never hear that ocean’s song;
a whispered phrase
which swept into her sailor’s heart.
Each wave a chord that did impart
remembered days

of salty spray on wooden deck.
The bounty saved from sinking wreck
had bought this place
but castle walls, built for his maid,
concealed the ocean’s charms. Her jade
and emerald face

intruded in his dreams each night.
The maid, unknowing of her plight,
would soon feel pain
for vows and troth could stay, not hold
a sailor from the Sirens cold
and sweet refrain.


Keith, sorry about the ending but it was a happy one for the sailor!

Larry

[Keith Logan]

Hi Larry,

Great and thoughtful response. It's amazing how people read the same words in a different way. Your take on the adventurer being a sailor is appropriate but I had in mind a fairy tale knight, seeking fortune in a distant land. Something like the old poem below.

Keith, the happy chappy

The Sacrifice

The sword was from its scabbard drawn
and thrust into the air.
The knight was now a foolish pawn
in taking up this dare.

He stood alone against a dragon
to save a pretty maid,
without suspecting aught was wrong,
the trap was so well laid.

The village knew it would not wait,
the monster had it's price.
The maiden purely used as bait,
the knight, the sacrifice.

[Larry]

Hi Keith,

Thanks for the clarification. I liked your added poem also except for one thing...
It's not a Logarhyme! I know, critiques are not to be made in these forums but reminders seem to be okay.

I'll try to come up with a response more suited to this particular forum.

Larry

[JustDaniel]

To write a poem here is fine;
non-Logarhymes are out of line...
but let's move on.
Mistakes are made by all of us,
but we've not been kicked off the bus
'cept times begone.


We'll look for Keith's next wisdom piece
since he's the one who has the lease
upon the form.
For now I heading off the site
while I continue pain to fight
here in the 'dorm'.

Lightly, Daniel

[Keith Logan]

Daniel, thanks for the head's up.
the happy chappy

non-Logarhymes are out of line...
and that of course, is true of mine,
apologies.
To break some rule, not my intention
but thought the age was worth a mention
(and it might please).

So you're in pain, I empathise
for all too well I realise
where it is founded.
Hope springs eternal, so they say.
then take the suffering away,
for joy unbounded.

[JustDaniel]

I'm looking to the Day when pain
will nevermore be felt again.
Until that time
I'll plug along as best I may
as bit by bit it fades away
to change my clime.

I'll tend the scars; I'll exercise
and stretch my ligaments 'mid cries
of agony.
But pseudo-burn upon my sole
says pain's afoot, out of control...
not just my knee.

[Keith Logan]

Jehovah's witnesses are they
who teach that suffering, one day
will be long past.
That every worry, fear or pain
will not with humankind remain,
carefree at last

If you'll allow to share a thought
about those things we've all been taught,
I'll make it quick.
Its not a logarhyme per se
but something heard back in the day,
a limerick.
-------------------

There was a faith healer from Deil
who said, although pain isn't real
when I sit on a pin
and I puncture my skin,
I don't like what I fancy I feel.

I was probably around ten years old when I first heard this limerick. it appealed so much that I never forgot it.

Keith, the happy chappy

[JustDaniel]

Jehovah's Witness I am not,
but I believe what I've been taught
right from the Book.
When Christ returns, the earth will change,
and many things He'll rearrange;
some will be shook.

I know the rules of Logarhyme;
my Limericks can be sublime,
so what you say
is terribly unclear to me;
perhaps you'd clear away debris
and me allay?

[Keith Logan]

Just Daniel yes, I was misled
by the form of hopes you said
but blame myself.
A Witness of two dozen years
I've put away all doubts and fears
beneath the shelf.

Though basically I share your pain
Angina hits now and again.
Arthritis too.
A double bypass in the past,
both knees replaced, psoriasis last;
that's not quite true.

For there are other forms of ache
like sinusitis that can make
a trial of life.
For many years denied of sleep,
continual watch I had to keep
on my dear wife.

Those casual comments that I wrote
were all upon a lighter note,
Don't think too deep.
The happy chappy's never sad,
abundant reasons to be glad,
my world complete.

[Larry]

And off upon a tangent, new,
of lighter mien which may imbue
thread’s levity.
No talk of pain or dread disease,
religious bent, clogged arteries.
Humanity
is such a fragile state at best
as both of you proclaim. A jest
may bring a smile
to momentarily decrease
the thought of ills, grant some surcease
to daily trial.
I’d rather read ridiculous
than live beneath a pendulous
black cloud of fear
of what the future may comprise.
The aches of age neither surprise
nor dampen cheer
that I woke up with sunlight’s kiss
upon my face. No greater bliss
one can obtain
than knowing we have no control
for life is His to take or dole,
it’s His domain!

[Keith Logan]

On a lighter note, here's an old one that will be topical again soon.
the happy chappy

Firnham Wood

The day dawned bright with autumn gold
where slits of light cut through the wold,
bright flowers stood.
A blessing rang of bird and song
as waters lapped the while along
by Firnham Wood.

At length red flame turned indigo
the moon appeared a distant glow
where blackness fell.
In shifting shades of eerie light
that pressed the silence of the night,
a lonely bell.

There in the pitch of midnight dark
reflecting on the hoary bark,
a flickered flame.
As to and fro it cast about
grotesque girations that standout,
in this timeframe.

When shadows take on shades of life
and sounds are tremblings of strife,
so we believe.
No other date within the year
can fill the darkness with such fear,
All Hallows Eve.

Now homeward bound, the churchbell rings,
caught by a draft it once more swings
in dawn's grey light.
That cast off cigarette burned slow,
the fire it lit, a furtive glow,
to all, goodnight.

[JustDaniel]

Dear Writer's Block

Dear writer's block, it's I, not you
who's got my thinking in a stew.
You're always there
to put a noose around my neck
when I am hearing "What the heck!"
That is your fare.

But I've not heard it for a while,
and though your gift is not from guile
I can't accept.
I write because it whirs inside
although sometimes it's misapplied,
and I'm inept.

So, good or bad I spew it out,
'cause I'm not gonna sit an' pout
about your rope.
It matters not if others read;
their absence simply won't impede.
It's how I cope.

© MLee Dickens'son 2013