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Ali zonak
Posted on: Feb 15 20, 12:46


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From: Arizona, USA
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Hello, dear Sylvia;
just browsing through all the forums I have participated in, I opened this one up--and there you are. Good to see you.
Yes, the story is true. "Old Red" existed. I was a stubborn youngster then, but in my long life, I must have done something right, mostly due to my parent's influence and, later, the love of Lynda, my wife. Thanks to her, we are comfortably retired and able to enjoy our upper-middle-class status. So, life is good. Thanks for reading my roach-encroached Christmas horror story that was somewhat brightened by a reformed flapper girl/landlady who must have been touched by that year's Christmas angel. Thank you, Sylvia. Hugs, Jerry
  Forum: Short Stories & Chapters for Critique ->... · Post Preview: #152847 · Replies: 2 · Views: 9,581

Ali zonak
Posted on: Dec 26 19, 13:07


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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (Psyche @ Dec 26 19, 11:16 ) *
Great poem for kids and adults. It's really amusing, enjoyable for all.
I'll try to get back for more reads. Got my grandson and his girl on a visit, as you know.
Best wishes, Sylvia



Thanks for reading, Daniel.
........................................
Sylvia, thank you and I appreciate your comment. Enjoy your visitors. I came down with a major cold---just in time for Christmas, lol. I must have picked it up while shopping at the department store. That'll teach me to get caught up in the crowded Christmas rush. Happy New Year to you,
Ali
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #152277 · Replies: 4 · Views: 842

Ali zonak
Posted on: Dec 23 19, 17:41


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


* Hark!

A Christmas Story

In the year 1958 my life stunk like the part of the big city that smelled of stale beer or worse—the constant odor of yeast. Times were hard for this student. Across the street, the neighborhood tavern’s broken sign flickered drunkenly, Sch~itz Beer; one letter, the "L" had gone AWOL, but what boozer would care, as long as the watering hole was open for business?

Shadows dance in the flickering neon light; the mood’s almost perfect—for slashing my wrist. No, really, I should buy a light bulb for a dump that my stingy landlady rents out as a “studio.” But the ex-flapper girl turned landlady—I nicknamed her “Red”— doesn’t permit anything over 40 watts. Now and then, she will draw attention to her still impressive breasts, but I wish she’d offer me a 60-watt light bulb instead. It’s so dark in here, roaming roaches collide on my linoleum-covered kitchen floor.

Yucky? Not really; they clean up every unwashed cup and bowl. Why fight them? They’ve been here since Adam and Eve set up housekeeping in this place. One small thing: ask not how I can stand this kitchen’s odors. These are trifles when one lives in this city’s brewery district; trust me, I have seen my roaches heave at the stench of brewer’s yeast. It permeates the house, clings to clothes, and ferments the brain.

Tonight, by the twinkling of that neon sign, I watch the mother of all roaches lift the linoleum’s upturned corner. Crunch. Something inside me snaps. All right! I give up, and gather my belongings; I’ll humble myself before my parents, and they’ll forgive me. After all, it’s Christmas and I know, Jimmy Stewart will have softened them up by now. “It’s a Wonderful Life” will do it.

But here is the big question: Will my landlady let me pass? I owe her rent. Through her open apartment door I hear Bing and Catherine Crosby croon— I tiptoe down the hall. The old TV flickers worse than that Sch~itz sign across the street . . . . But—foiled again; my landlady can sense an escaping rent check. Nothing escapes her sharp eyes and finely-tuned ears. Caught!

Then, to my surprise, she gently speaks, “Come right in.” And then she said, “Merry Christmas, young fellow; now close your eyes.” I feel a motherly kiss on my cheek, “This is my gift to you; and never mind the rent,” and with that, she sends me on my way. See? Christmas does soften the heart—even that of a stingy landlady. Or was it because she realized that one can’t squeeze blood out of a turnip . . . me?
  Forum: Short Stories & Chapters for Critique ->... · Post Preview: #152245 · Replies: 2 · Views: 9,581

Ali zonak
Posted on: Dec 16 19, 14:13


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


The Baby Pond
(a poem for inquisitive children and adults)

A stork flew over hill and dale
To bring these words from lands beyond;
Of birds and bees is not this tale,
But little babies in a pond.

It is the womb of unborn babies.
This fertile pool gives life to man;
The stork takes one—or more—to ladies,
Who then must do the best they can.

I learned, by way of lengthy talk,
This feathered, stilt-legged, flying friend
Brings babes to folks with pleasant squawk,
And runs his errands without end.

Cute babies sleep on water lilies;
(They care not about egg or sperm—)
Attended by three fairy dillies
Who want to see them reach full term.

Pretty, Dawn, and Awful are their names.
It’s up to them who leaves the pool
(No one to blame but those three dames,
Should you be parent of a fool).

Pretty and Dawn are sweet and lithe;
Beneath their feet fresh flowers grow,
But fungus trails that Awful sprite—
Each boot conceals one extra toe.

“Awful” she’s called, and so she feels.
An apple makes her mean, at best,
But like a maddened boar she squeals—
When she bears grudges in her chest.

The first two glide along the pond,
But Awful—she just clumps along.
Now Dawn scoops up the cutest blond,
Without a flaw, plain nothing wrong.

While Pretty and Dawn have gifts prepared
With which they’ll send the girl away,
That Awful sprite is love-impaired—
She chomps her apple for the day.

“I have a gift for you,” said Pretty.
“A life that’s rich in love and beauty . . . .”
(“A slap,” so growled the awful biddy,
“Nothing more; we’ve done our duty!”)

She told that babe, fresh off her patch,
“I hate to be the raining cloud,
But beauty? That, I will not match;
With all ten toes—you’re well endowed!”

Her apple splashed into the pool—
She shook the babe and yelled out loud,
“You made me drop it, little fool;
I wish it were stuck in your mouth!”

This was the fairy’s curse, and—lo,
The girl was ‘dressed’ in roast pig fashion;
But Dawn cast forth some fairy glow
And spoke with fervent passion:

“Now hear me, Awful, let me speak:
Cursed apple, leave that mouth—right NOW!
It is my wish that you should seek
The snout of a well-roasted sow.”

Dawn wrapped that bundle of sweet joy,
Tied it with ribbons, a pink bow
(Yes, pink; ‘cause blue goes with a boy).
The stork was ready, set to go.

His wings were strained, but not the will;
He shivered, but stayed true on course
Across the lands in wintry chill—
Oh, it was cold, but sleet is worse.

Through frosted window he could see
A quite old pair (she at the stove).
The stork hailed them and smiled with glee—
Behind the couch that couple dove.

Though tired, the stork still would not rest.
“Madam, has there been dilatation?”
(That is his one maternity test;
He knows nothing about gestation.)

“What? What!” she asked the feathered guest,
Her wailing bringing down the wall.
The man called out, “Is this a jest?
We haven’t planned for this at all!”

“Well,” said the stork, “this babe must stay!
You think I froze my tail for fun?
It’s yours; take care, I’m on my way.
Farewell, good luck, what’s dun is dun.”
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #152138 · Replies: 4 · Views: 842

Ali zonak
Posted on: Dec 16 19, 14:01


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (JustDaniel @ Dec 16 19, 11:49 ) *
Unimpeachable

Yes, our President Trump is a sleaze,
just as Clinton, recall, if you please,
but he doesn't have suave
to apply as a salve
so impeaching him's done with a breeze

not because we've uncovered some facts
but from digging out dirt from the cracks:
repeat, "crimes, misdemeanors"
with stiffened demeanor
feeding media's daily attacks.

Clinton, Kennedy, Trump low on morals
yet each of them's earned many laurels
'cause each presidency
helped to set many free
and has hundreds of choirs singing chorals.

Since they'll not vote him out, clear the slate
will they next pay to kill him with hate?

© MLee Dickens’son 15 Dec 2019
Daniel J Ricketts


My arbitrary designation "Limerick Sonnet" is a three-limerick series followed by a limerick-cadence couplet.



Love it, Daniel!
Of course, I'm an independent voter and have no party loyalty, thank god. In fact, I'm all through voting for these disappointing candidates. It's hopeless, and I'll just resign myself to that. Good job Daniel. Take care, Jerry
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #152137 · Replies: 8 · Views: 9,831

Ali zonak
Posted on: Dec 14 19, 18:18


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (JustDaniel @ Nov 24 19, 00:06 ) *
The chilling winds of Autumn arrive a little late this year, interspersed with one deluge after another, one with destructive winds tearing unmercifully through neighboring communities but sparing us for another time. Then a hard freeze followed by cool breezes with early-fall warmth, grandchildren playing in the yard in light jackets, our Pomeranian trailing them with his four-foot branch, begging for it to be thrown.

bare trees embarking
on a journey to nowhere
will leave in the spring

Fighting irrational gloom, I key into the present, anticipating gastric sleeve surgery three days away. I’d begun this journey forty pounds and four months ago in the warmth of summer, after a spring of depression triggered by weight-loss failures. Five support groups, three meetings with a dietician, a psychological screening, a stress test and meetings with four doctors later…

a weight lifted
as sun melts clouds and blues
cool winds of autumn

Thanksgiving on the horizon, I’ll arrive home amid all the bustle and smells in the kitchen where wife and daughters prepare desserts and delicacies and slice ingredients for the main event two days later, while I sip on green tea and chicken broth without a beef. Soon I’ll feast my eyes on the gathered family as they reminisce and gorge themselves on the abundance before them, while I salivate, watching and rejoicing, taking in the aroma of kinship and love, with a dash of holiday tension.

no carol-singing
‘til leftovers disappear
Noël soon enough


© MLee Dickens’son 22 Nov 2019
Daniel J Ricketts



Hello Daniel;
I must say yours is a well-written haibun; much enjoyed reading it. Sorry about your illness. I had a medical issue as well, although in another department--namely heart related, right after the doctor had told me that I was clean as a whistle, lol. Woke up that morning with crushing chess pain and rushed to the hospital; The surgeon said I needed a stent put into the circumflex artery, which was no picnic for me. I lost 20 lb during my 3-day stay at that chop shop, but I feel fine now. Enough about me! I hope you recover soon, Daniel, and I pray that Christmas will find you seated at the festive table munching your share of goodies. Take care, my friend. xmaswindow.gif Jerry
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #152097 · Replies: 6 · Views: 2,410

Ali zonak
Posted on: Dec 14 19, 11:23


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (JustDaniel @ Dec 14 19, 04:28 ) *
… and I'll look forward to your follow-up, Jerry!

Believe me, Jerry, at 74 myself, I can identify with the eye issues. Much of the time (in addition to my dyslexia, which really acts up with longer pieces and prose), I'm almost always reading lines through a fog-like blur, so lots of things get past me unless I slow down even more than is normal for me! Horribly frustrating. deLighting to see your name here again, Daniel sun.gif


Hi there young fellow, Daniel;
oh to be 74 again! Seriously, when I had my eyes checked for new glasses, the optometrist told me I had cataracts and I should see a surgeon. That was over a year ago. The surgery led to light sensitivity and other problems sight-related problems. But, somehow the show must go on--right? Anyhow, thanks for sharing your story. Take care my friend.
Jerry
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #152086 · Replies: 6 · Views: 1,447

Ali zonak
Posted on: Dec 14 19, 11:08


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (Psyche @ Dec 13 19, 17:41 ) *
Hi Jerry, great to have you posting again. This is a magnificent piece. I love these archaic pieces and you've honored the form beautifully. I've never written anything so long and so well. Congratulations, you've returned with a flourish.
Daniel has already suggested changes, he knows plenty about form. So that leaves me free to enjoy.
I'll be returning because it's long and I need at least one or two more readings.
Cheers and welcome back. Do try the word challenges. Sorry about your eyesight.
Sylvia
[size="2"][/size]


Hi Sylvia;
it's good to see you as well, and thanks for the hearty welcome back! I'm glad you liked my poem about Tannhauser, the somewhat screwed up minstrel, and of course--that hussy Venus. Now, suppose I set my poem to music--would that make m another opera composer like Richard Wagner who wrote Tannhauser in the first place??? Naw!!! Anyhow, poor eyesight or not, I'm happy to contribute to this site again. Sylvia, thanks for reading my poem. Take care,
Jerry
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #152085 · Replies: 6 · Views: 1,447

Ali zonak
Posted on: Dec 13 19, 11:15


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (JustDaniel @ Dec 11 19, 09:07 ) *
Very impressive piece indeed! I don't think I've ever written a piece of this length.

There are a number of lines in which you've inverted the meter at the beginning, and several that are a foot or a half-foot too long. Perhaps another proof-reading is in order, but otherwise a very fine piece.

deLighting to read, Daniel sun.gif



Hi Daniel;
indeed, my write contains all the flaws you have pointed out and therefore requires an overhaul. It is meant to be a medieval, archaic write that has its roots in the Tannhauser-Venus legend. Said archaic verbiage then resulted in the inverted meter--I think.
Furthermore, now at the age of 85, approaching 86, my eyesight is fading and lots of mistakes seem to slip through these days. Nevertheless, I shall rectify those errors as you have suggested. Thank you, Daniel; much appreciated. Jerry
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #152064 · Replies: 6 · Views: 1,447

Ali zonak
Posted on: Dec 5 19, 09:55


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325



Knight Tannhauser and Venus (After a legend. All comments and sugestions are welcome.)

Canto I
Narrator:
“Oh noble knight and troubadour
why dost thou through the darkness creep
as though you were a common thief
intending harm on those asleep?”

Knight:
“It is the entrance to a cave I seek,
where I among the naiads whiled
and drank the wine of one so fair;
from her sweet presence I was exiled.

“Venus is the one of whom I speak;
I gladly sank to any depth,
and pledged my very soul to her,
my honor, dignity, life’s breath.

“I now desire to gain her love
once more, melt into arms that blest,
embraced me with her love divine
as wanderer and welcome guest.

“Those tousled locks of flame-red hair,
that skin of alabaster white,
her tempting smile and open arms
enchanted me, the lovelorn knight.

“We loved, but then I wished to see
the human world and hear the flutes
there played by unsoiled shepherd boys,
and eat again sweet earthly fruits—

“but she grew full of wrath and spoke:
“Remorse will gnaw you at each turn,
no love shall cheer you, fickle man;
soon humbled, then you shall return.”

“I dream now of her locks cascading--
oh, memories so slowly creep
through my tormented, spellbound mind!
No peace--except in death or sleep.”
Cantos II
(The knight’s reminiscence)
Venus seduces the Knight Tannhauser

Rest here with me, thou weary knight.
Take off thine armor, sheath thy sword.
Am I a monster thou wouldst smite?
I am but Venus, much adored

by gods and mortal men alike.
Thy songs have well preceded thee;
I heard of thee, O troubadour,
and now at last thou came to me.

If thou hast ever longed for love,
then enter freely this enchanted
cave; nymphs invite thee to gay dance,
All these pleasures shall be granted.

Horned fauns and sibyls dance to tunes
by god Pan himself; hear his pipe?
Come, join us in a madrigal.
Why hesitate? The time is ripe.

O dearest knight, now nears the night,
the night of love that smiles upon
our pleasures. Sweeter than the day
are thou, O night of love! The dawn

must call an end to tenderness,
therefore, do not waste fleeting time
that should be used for sweet caress
and freely given love sublime.

Reach out for me; embrace me now;
Thy passion will become the fire
that sear me. Give me thy kisses!
O night, that fills us with desire.

Canto III
Tannhauser responds to Venus’ Temptation


O Goddess, remove thy garment
of gossamer. Strip down to nothing
so I can see thy nakedness.
Thy weblike gown is coarsest clothing

that only mars thy lovely form;
shall I remove it, Goddess fair?
I long to press my manly chest
against thy godly bosom bare

Purse thy lips, complete our oneness--
allow probing tongues to touch
in deep erotic kisses. We grope--
like vines we twist, now lips on lips. . . .

Canto IV

Narrator:
Oh, noble Knight, unhappy man!
your tale of Venus in her cave
is more than just a wild phantasm
that soon may take thee to thy grave...

but tell me, Sire, what art thou called?
Hast thou no loving wife nor kin
to give thee comfort and new hope?
Have faith, the Lord remits all sin.

Tannhauser:
I am ashamed to speak my name
that once rang true and was well known
throughout this land and far beyond,
I sung before the royal throne.

My name? Tannhauser. Cursed it be!
A maiden once spoke it out loud;
with love it pealed from paling lips--
too soon concealed by death’s dark shroud.

A love I had . . . Elizabeth,
so pure and faithful unto death;
to my forever lasting shame--
for me she took her final breath.


I wandered far through woods and plains,
until I rested at this place
where I now stand to tell my tale
of how I saw that wondrous face--

I met the goddess—nay--temptress
who took my heart and swooning mind,
made me her vassal—nay, her slave,
until her love for me declined.

An all-consuming opiate
she hath become to me; each kiss
hurled me toward hell’s flames, into
the gaping, sneering fiend's abyss.

Alas, the goddess, tired of me,
told me to leave her fair domain,
return to my crude upper world
to never see her face again.

I spoke these words as though they would
bring me relief in my despair.
“Rejoice, oh man! I thank Thee, God!”
Still, how can I forget her hair,

enticing locks, that frame her face?
No hope! I can not deny the charm
she cast upon my mind--the demon
who came to cause me utter harm.

Canto V
Tannhauser Abandons Love

Love was my assailant, the trickster
that had disguised itself as pure;
but now my heart is skewered
by passion that I will not endure;

Shall I give in or fan the flames
that rage through this man’s savage breast?
No! Cupid, take thine erring sting
the arrow; though thou didst thy best—

Thou couldst not hit a wide barn door,
yet, thou didst manage to wound me.
How deep and wide? It will suffice
to leave a mark, thanks to thee.

The moon grows pale, my spirit sighs;
I play my harp with certitude,
coaxing melancholic notes
from it that subdue my sullen mood.

As a mirage I now can see thee
once again, Goddess, O, so fair,
how pure moonlight doth become thee
as it adds brightness to thy hair.

But, as for you, my Aphrodite,
today’s love pain will soon become
a bitter memory, I hope–
To Thee-- I shall no more succumb.

Fini

  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #151944 · Replies: 6 · Views: 1,447

Ali zonak
Posted on: Aug 10 18, 13:06


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


Hello Bev, and thank you for liking my poem. I haven't been on this site or any others in ages. Parkinson's has caught up with me at the ripe old age of 84, which slowed me down quite a bit. Still, I'll try to appear here on this site when I can. Meantime, thank you very much for your pleasant visit, Ali
  Forum: Poetry Exhibition -> Plato's Pearls of Wisdom · Post Preview: #150951 · Replies: 4 · Views: 33,206

Ali zonak
Posted on: Oct 5 17, 14:24


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (Psyche @ Oct 1 17, 02:42 ) *

Very amusing, dark humor, Ali.
I had myself a good laugh.
Bring 'em on!
Best wishes,
Syl*** butterfly.gif


Thank you, Sylvia;
I'm glad my story of Wrangler Bill amused you. I'm sure Bill would have a good laugh himself, alas he is 6' under, and I'm not sure he is allowed to laugh where he presently resides--or is he? Thanks again for appreciating my "darker" side, Sylvia.
Take care, charliebrown.gif Ali
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148679 · Replies: 2 · Views: 2,051

Ali zonak
Posted on: Oct 5 17, 14:12


Babylonian
*

Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (Psyche @ Oct 1 17, 03:22 ) *

Hi Ali,
I've come over for a visit after a long time.
And I've been fortunate in finding this lovely painting, as well as what appears to be a true love poem.
Beautifully achieved, both of them.
The ending sounds sad, I don't know whether "asleep" may mean that this beautiful lady has passed away... After all, she would awaken and could be painted then.

Never mind, I've probably opened my mouth and put my foot in it. Please forgive.

So glad you shared these two sentimental works of art with us.

Best wishes,
Syl*** butterfly.gif


Pleased to see you again, Sylvia'
yes, I wrote that poem in one of my sentimental moments--or should I say, a moment of deepest appreciation of my wife and the many joyful years we have spent together. We both are well--although I just got out of the hospital due to a complicated upper respiratory infection from which I'm recovering splendidly. Thank you for your lovely comment, Sylvia.
Ali
  Forum: Free Verse Poetry for Critique -> Seren'... · Post Preview: #148678 · Replies: 4 · Views: 2,925

Ali zonak
Posted on: Sep 18 17, 07:21


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


[quote name='Larry' date='Sep 15 17, 08:11 ' post='148532']
This was written over 20 years ago, a week or so after the paparazzi caused the wreck which took Diana’s life in Paris. I figured, seeing as how all the television specials aired a tribute to her, I would like to add my two cents. This might be considered a ballad or a “Stretched Sonnet” in iambic tetrameter; whichever you like.





Ode to Princess Diana

Grief flows from souls! A molten stream
falls down upon a world-wide wreath
as anguished wails rise like a dream
to God from mourners’ hearts beneath.

Her shortened life, romance and fame
was ended as from fears she fled;
though mother of two kings, the same.
Earth’s fragrant flower now lies dead.

Great deeds achieved with more to give
the sick and poor; brought hope's bright rays.
Plucked from life's path where she could live;
the long night fell upon her days.

Bright streams of flowers, laid with care,
The whole world paused in silent prayer.

Hi Larry;
your poem is just fine, but by changing the last quatrain into a couplet (see above) you also have a sonnet. And now I should bite my tongue, lol. I never cared for royalty; and I certainly never cared for the woman whose lifestyle was a bit on the fast side--although the press tried to overlook her conduct that, in my opinion, was less than princely. Just the biased opinion of a guy who believes in non-boozing fairy-tale princesses. Sorry, Larry.
Ali
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148549 · Replies: 6 · Views: 2,547

Ali zonak
Posted on: Sep 13 17, 15:48


Babylonian
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (Larry @ Sep 12 17, 08:04 ) *
Hey Ali,

I really wish you hadn't removed the poem you had posted here under your wife's painting. I had worked for two weeks with a critique even though I seldom come to this forum. I'm a dyed-in-the-wool R&M kind of guy but "Ragnarok" was not only an interesting piece but also a very good ancient history lesson.

I just dumped my critique! Oh well, my first thoughts on seeing the painting was that of an immense scaled dragon peering at the world through one eye.

I enjoyed your poem while it was up. Thanks for your insight and for sharing.

Larry



Hi Larry,
I appreciate your own effort of writing a critique and realize that things are moving slowly on this site. But jeepers, after some twenty days of no-comments on my free-verse I had to assume that it had failed to pass muster. The fact is, from time to time I write horrible garbage that I then throw against the wall just to see what will stick. I'm glad you liked my verses while they were up. Most certainly, Lynda will be tickled at your interpretation of her painting. The Sun-devouring dragon works for me, indeed. Thank you, Larry. Ali and Lynda
  Forum: Free Verse Poetry for Critique -> Seren'... · Post Preview: #148531 · Replies: 2 · Views: 2,340

Ali zonak
Posted on: Sep 5 17, 07:28


Babylonian
*

Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (Larry @ Sep 4 17, 21:31 ) *
Hello Ali,

Thanks for clarifying the name thing. I did check the member list and you are still on the list as JerryK. Don't know what the problem with signing on under that name. Why don't you try it again.

Larry


Thanks for checking, Larry,
but no matter what I try, the message remains the same. It's something about an error in the name or password. Actually, I'm quite content with "Ali" as in Ali Baba, lol. See you soon, Ali
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148493 · Replies: 11 · Views: 4,268

Ali zonak
Posted on: Sep 2 17, 06:43


Babylonian
*

Group: Gold Member
Posts: 101
Joined: 22-June 17
From: Arizona, USA
Member No.: 5,325


QUOTE (Larry @ Aug 19 17, 21:36 ) *
Hi Ali,

I am so pleased that you and Lynda liked my answer to the picture challenge. It took me a few days to construct but the first phrase popped into my mind while looking at the picture for the first time.

I love a good challenge!

Larry
(this is my real name)



Good Morning/Day, Larry;
once again I thank thee, kind Sir, and I know that Larry is thy rightful name; never had any doubt, lol. As to my real name--well, I confess to having played the chameleon. I think about a year ago I found myself banished from this site--at least I think I was, for I could not log on by my name "JerryK., which stands for Jerry Kemp. Recently I decided to change my alias to Ali, and . . . Bingo! Here I am. Well, now, after this revelation, I can only wait for the other "Boot" to drop as I wonder whether or not I will be "booted" off this site for no real reason that I can think of. Meanwhile, thank you, Larry.
Jerry
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148481 · Replies: 11 · Views: 4,268

Ali zonak
Posted on: Aug 20 17, 07:38


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From: Arizona, USA
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Painting by Lynda Lu
Attached Image


The Solar Eclipse 2017
Baldur the Sun-god is reborn.


Text removed 9-11=16
  Forum: Free Verse Poetry for Critique -> Seren'... · Post Preview: #148331 · Replies: 2 · Views: 2,340

Ali zonak
Posted on: Aug 20 17, 06:31


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QUOTE (Larry @ Aug 19 17, 21:40 ) *
Hey Ali,

If you will notice in the stanza above "Miasma", I used the word fog which is what Websters' defines as a murk, miasma, thick haze, etc.. Not wanting to be redundant, I used a different word. Besides, it matched the metrical flow of the sonnet.

Glad you enjoyed.

Larry



Hi Larry;
actually, in the given context "miasma" does work quite well. As said before, no nits. I wonder where our friend Eagle-eye Daniel might be these days? Greetings to him and all the other absentees. Take care, Ali
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148330 · Replies: 9 · Views: 4,954

Ali zonak
Posted on: Aug 18 17, 16:55


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QUOTE (Larry @ Aug 18 17, 09:05 ) *
Ali, here is a Sonnet "to boot"!


The Shrine

One boot was in the stirrups when he fell
while rounding up some strays that needed brands;
the other one was lost along the trail.
It followed near the bluffs above the sands

and sediment from raging river’s bed
that shaped the land; depositing its silt.
The mouth and delta formed a nice homestead
so that is where his house and ranch were built.

Sunflower seeds were planted in one field
for drying and to feed his little herds
of sheep and cows. He always had good yield
so there was extra seed to feed the birds.

His horse came back, that boot still lodged in place
so it is now a shrine; a meagre trace.


Larry, wow! What a marvelous monument to Lynda's boot you have built. Plenty of Sunflowers to rival the number of poppies in Flanders' fields She loves it; made her day! On a similarly tragic note, I posted a photo shot and poem about Wrangler Bill who died in the saddle. I think I had it published in The Australia Times under my real name. Thanks, Ali
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148309 · Replies: 11 · Views: 4,268

Ali zonak
Posted on: Aug 18 17, 16:40


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Gate to Ali's/Lynda/s Homestead in Arizona
Attached Image


The Rock’n “S” Ranch and Wrangler Bill's Demise

It happened some five miles from home,
the Rockin’ S Ranch in the vale;
Old Wrangler Bill died on his horse,
he was as dead as a doornail.

His ol’ Nell brought him home at dusk,
one hand still holding tight the rein,
the other clutching his mare’s mane;
he was beyond all earthly pain.

We heaved him from the saddle which
by no means was an easy chore,
for here’s the doggone, honest fact
I had not thought of much before:

His pair of legs in chaps were shaped
much like the split-down letter “O”,
he’d rode them horses for so long--
on ground he walked bowlegged--like so: ( )

Each leg looked like a hunting bow,
just as behooves a buckaroo,
but now he’s dead. When all was said,
it’s better him than me or you.

We buried him on top Boot Hill
right next to his old pardner Dave.
We hung a bridle on a cross
and whizzed upon that cowboy’s grave.

We said some words to fit the bill,
then raised a glass of some vile swill
and drank a toast to him and went
to see what he’d left us in his will.

Well, that night we had El Niño
a-comin'-down. That flood we get
about ev’ry so many years—
it rained and rained and all got wet,

and mud came sliding down the hill—
and so did Bill who didn’t pause
till he had reached the bunkhouse porch--
half-buried in the mud he was.

Though muddy, wet, old wrangler Bill,
he did arrive at heaven’s gate;
St. Peter looked him up and down,
and asked, “How come you are so late?”

Well, Bill then hemmed and hawed, told tales
about the saintly life he’d kept
and some such lies to beat the band,
until St. Peter sobbed and wept,

and let him join the heaven’s host.
In lieu of harps, he plays guitar
and jangles both his rusty spurs.
At times, you hear him from afar

a-singing ‘bout his rugged life
down at the ranch called Rockin’ S
and his beloved a-RI-zo-NA,
then bitchin’ about me, I guess.

Happy Trails, Pardner Bill.



  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148308 · Replies: 2 · Views: 2,051

Ali zonak
Posted on: Aug 17 17, 14:33


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QUOTE (Larry @ Aug 16 17, 14:56 ) *
and on a more serious note...


Sentinels

An ember gleams upon horizon’s lip (horizon's lip is a great metaphor)
when sighted through the fog on stormy seas
and slowly, it becomes a fingertip (same with fingertip)
that points from rocky promontory’s keys

to safer shores. An alabaster spear ( great image)
will pierce the darkest night. Miasma’s heart (unsure about Miasma. As in " miasma of fear"?
is torn asunder like a sailor’s fear
that dissipates with light and will impart

a sense of ease. This stolid knight will stand
on guard, dressed in his comic uniform
of candied stripes. On every shore his band
will warn of danger, keeping all from harm.

A sentinel and shrine for those who brave
the ocean’s depth; a shield from briny grave.


A fine sonnet, Larry. I'm not sure about Miasma's heart. I love what the stolid knight's colored stripes signify. Pressed on time, I'll need to come back. Offhand, except for Miasma's heart (sounds like a proper noun, which you may have intended, lol,) I find no nits. Ali
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148288 · Replies: 9 · Views: 4,954

Ali zonak
Posted on: Aug 16 17, 18:37


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[quote name='Larry' date='Aug 16 17, 14:58 ' post='148276']
City Boy

Howdy, Larry: I don't usually write mixed meter verses because I hate being called on the carpet for an unevenness, but every once in a while I practice what an old sage (who shall remain unnamed) had told me: "Variations are allowed in metric verse. Iambs and trochees may be interchanged in alternate lines; even an unaccented word is permitted like a musical grace note played on the piano. However, the dominant foot should be there to justify the name given to the verse. Yet, without some fluctuation, the constant “ta TUM ta TUM” would make the reading of a poem monotonous." That's why composers stick grace notes into their compositions.
And that is why I can appreciate your Sonnet. Well done, actually. Take care,
Ali
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148277 · Replies: 2 · Views: 2,120

Ali zonak
Posted on: Aug 13 17, 17:29


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-------------- DAS BOOT-----------VERSUS ----------- THE BOOT
Attached Image
------
Attached Image


“Das Boot versus The Boot”

“Das Boot” I wore for riding--
I would not ever wear plain shoe;
one time it had a rusty spur.
I gave the boat to Lynda Lu

who cleaned it up with saddle soap.
I told her, “Get that speck of &%*&...,”
She said, “Go put a sock in it,
Gawd’s sake, you just don’t ever quit!”

“Das Boot” was caught up in a war;
A submarine is called a ”Boat”
but the German says, “It’s a Boot,”
as I, of course, was quick to note,

Shown here is one oil-painted “boat,”
but where the other one might be--
I could have sworn I had a pair--
I guess THAT boot was lost at sea.

(Did I make myself quite clear?) No,huh?
charliebrown.gif
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148246 · Replies: 0 · Views: 1,482

Ali zonak
Posted on: Aug 11 17, 19:24


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From: Arizona, USA
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QUOTE (Larry @ Aug 11 17, 16:06 ) *
for the lighthouse painted like a barber pole


Folks don’t come for a haircut or shave
to this house that’s tucked into a nave
of a rocky coastline
but I think it’s divine
to save most from a watery grave.



Love it, Larry! heheheh

My own meager effort might be:

This painter had white paint and red;
Let’s paint up a lighthouse he said.
Red stripes on pure white,
The beacon flashed bright,
“Get shave’n haircuts, two bits per head!”
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #148233 · Replies: 9 · Views: 4,954

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