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Borrowed Rhymes 1 of n
Poetry Contest Description
Fun Competition
On the Coursera Course, "Sharpened Visions" they have an exercise called, 'Biting Rhymes'. In this exercise you take the end rhymes from a published poem and use them to make a different poem.
For example, from
Don Juan, Canto XII, XXVII by Lord Byron
The little Leila, with her orient eyes,
And taciturn Asiatic disposition
(Which saw all western things with small surprise,
To the surprise of people of condition,
Who think that novelties are butterflies
To be pursued as food for inanition),
Her charming figure and romantic history
Became a kind of fashionable mystery.
We have: eyes, disposition, surprise, condition, butterflies, inanition, history and mystery.
Which I used to make the following ...
Butterflies
On the train, that first meeting of our eyes
shocked and quite upset my disposition.
My heart began to pound to my great surprise,
adding to my confusing condition.
Massive as fruit bats were my butterflies,
clubbing me and causing inanition.
Of these events I have no history,
making it all to me: a mystery.
This is for practice and for fun; the better poets no doubt will make poems that will compare or contrast with the poem from where the end rhymes originate.
If the competition is of interest I'll repeat it when it seems appropriate to do so.
Lastly, good luck!
Her True Beauty
We meet each other in the middle of the night
With the Milky Way and all of the clear skies
Above us. She has a soul that is always bright.
With that one look into her mysterious eyes
And I am gone. With one single streak of light
She is all that more beautiful and no one denies
Her loveliness in the dawn. No one thinks less
Of her charisma and all her delicate like grace
In a porcelain doll or ballerina. Her dark tress
In a smooth wave down her back and her face
Reflects like moonbeams. Her thoughts express
Themselves clearly or concisely. Her safe place
To rest when the light travels over her brow
And the words flow out like an eloquent
Language. Her essence and smiles that glow.
Her skin color that changes with days spent
In the sunshine. All that is laying below
The surface is a love that is innocent.
With the Milky Way and all of the clear skies
Above us. She has a soul that is always bright.
With that one look into her mysterious eyes
And I am gone. With one single streak of light
She is all that more beautiful and no one denies
Her loveliness in the dawn. No one thinks less
Of her charisma and all her delicate like grace
In a porcelain doll or ballerina. Her dark tress
In a smooth wave down her back and her face
Reflects like moonbeams. Her thoughts express
Themselves clearly or concisely. Her safe place
To rest when the light travels over her brow
And the words flow out like an eloquent
Language. Her essence and smiles that glow.
Her skin color that changes with days spent
In the sunshine. All that is laying below
The surface is a love that is innocent.
Written by eswaller
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Good choice of poem which earned a cool point ... here's a review of it https://www.shmoop.com/she-walks-in-beauty/ ... and you got another for the competition entry ... plus a bonus point for being the first to enter. Good luck.
The gentler gender for gentlemen . (For contest)
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I'm proud of belonging to the female race,
To hail from the fair sex
To be a part of womanhood , earthly sisterhood
Not only because I have far less hairy
Smoother, softer fairer pinker skin
than the gents and men
But also because it is only
Our womb that cradles the unborn human
That's why we are the cradle of civilisation and humanity.
And our womanly lap that ensures the survival of the human race
Our motherly lap is said to be a child's first university.
I don't even mind being referred to as the weaker sex
For I connote it to refer to how we are a delicate delicacy
Upon which our men ravish and feast upon
Wherein also lies part of our powers ironically.
I mean I have read of kings who gave up thrones
Just so they can feast their enamoured eyes upon and love a woman!
The chauvinistic world of men has tried to sideline us
Yet powerful women have risen and shone in all ages nevertheless.
Thank you God for creating the mother of all humanity, our first mother, Eve.
Long live womanhood, be proud of your gender.
Let's change the male dominated masculine mindset of this world
And make it more women friendly and feminine.
Men are referred to as gentlemen in English,
yet that can be paradoxically harsh in reality
For more women are gentler ironically .
A woman is flower power
That can shake the world with her delicate petals
As her softer voice has learnt
to pierce, melt and mould his fierce metals
of masculine armours of physical strength
Without employing swords or guns.
A woman is divine art admired by her admirers
A vital divine creation that creates and nurtures
because the Creator has entrusted her with that magnificent role.
( comments are fine but I don't invite them for such contest entries)
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I'm proud of belonging to the female race,
To hail from the fair sex
To be a part of womanhood , earthly sisterhood
Not only because I have far less hairy
Smoother, softer fairer pinker skin
than the gents and men
But also because it is only
Our womb that cradles the unborn human
That's why we are the cradle of civilisation and humanity.
And our womanly lap that ensures the survival of the human race
Our motherly lap is said to be a child's first university.
I don't even mind being referred to as the weaker sex
For I connote it to refer to how we are a delicate delicacy
Upon which our men ravish and feast upon
Wherein also lies part of our powers ironically.
I mean I have read of kings who gave up thrones
Just so they can feast their enamoured eyes upon and love a woman!
The chauvinistic world of men has tried to sideline us
Yet powerful women have risen and shone in all ages nevertheless.
Thank you God for creating the mother of all humanity, our first mother, Eve.
Long live womanhood, be proud of your gender.
Let's change the male dominated masculine mindset of this world
And make it more women friendly and feminine.
Men are referred to as gentlemen in English,
yet that can be paradoxically harsh in reality
For more women are gentler ironically .
A woman is flower power
That can shake the world with her delicate petals
As her softer voice has learnt
to pierce, melt and mould his fierce metals
of masculine armours of physical strength
Without employing swords or guns.
A woman is divine art admired by her admirers
A vital divine creation that creates and nurtures
because the Creator has entrusted her with that magnificent role.
( comments are fine but I don't invite them for such contest entries)
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Written by Zaynab_kamoonpury
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Thanks for the poem. Here's a link to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shel_Silverstein the author. Interesting that you followed the original poems meaning as well as rhymes.
My Old Friend (You Are Not Alone)
My old friend, how have you been?
I heard of the storms which you have seen
I heard of the misery that they can bring
And the foreboding it will suddenly spring --
But whatever opioids you have taken
Ancient demons are sure to awaken
I don’t mean to have this ominous tone --
My old friend, you’re not alone --
But just as the light shines before the dawn
Don’t let the darkness bind you or be drawn
Into the depths of sorrow falling ill
As a mysterious torture holds you still --
Look within yourself, your source, your fountain --
And you will be able to climb any mountain --
If you could see the future as the ages roll’d
You have a talent that is as pure as gold --
So if you set your eyes upon the sky
Please don’t let life pass you by --
You can survive this storm –
Regardless of how the grief takes its form
My old friend, don’t feel so sad or blue
If you could be here today you’d enjoy the view --
#edgarallanpoe
My old friend, how have you been?
I heard of the storms which you have seen
I heard of the misery that they can bring
And the foreboding it will suddenly spring --
But whatever opioids you have taken
Ancient demons are sure to awaken
I don’t mean to have this ominous tone --
My old friend, you’re not alone --
But just as the light shines before the dawn
Don’t let the darkness bind you or be drawn
Into the depths of sorrow falling ill
As a mysterious torture holds you still --
Look within yourself, your source, your fountain --
And you will be able to climb any mountain --
If you could see the future as the ages roll’d
You have a talent that is as pure as gold --
So if you set your eyes upon the sky
Please don’t let life pass you by --
You can survive this storm –
Regardless of how the grief takes its form
My old friend, don’t feel so sad or blue
If you could be here today you’d enjoy the view --
#edgarallanpoe
Cool ... here's a link to Poe's attempt, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46477/alone-56d2265f2667d I enjoyed your poem and thanks for highlighting Poe's poem, and thanks for entering the competition.
Reading At Table As Breakfast Goes Cold
The early morning’s summer drone,
While reading, has me drift and drowse.
With heat distressing nerve and bone,
I must decline my eggs, and browse.
I sip the oranges of the groves
Which from the glass I feel its breeze,
To graze my hair that slightly moves
And cools the neckline by degrees.
And past the window lies the lake
Where long ago, far back in time,
A tiny girl would kneel and slake
Her thirst for mysteries sublime.
And comes a moment of showers,
Dismissing the heat of its powers.
June Dywer’s “Afternoon”
Thanks for your entry ... I looked hard but I couldn't find a copy of the original online for comparison. Nevertheless, it is up to your usual high standard with regard to rhyme and meter ... the asymptote to which we all aspire ...
Thank you, sir, and if you will allow me...
Here is a link to my DU forum that I opened earlier this year: POETRY SWAP MEET. It will take you to the first page, and the original poem “Afternoon” is the sixth entry down.
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/poetry/read/10280/
Here is a link to my DU forum that I opened earlier this year: POETRY SWAP MEET. It will take you to the first page, and the original poem “Afternoon” is the sixth entry down.
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/poetry/read/10280/
