A Plastic Daffodil in a Grecian Urn's Journal (original) (raw)

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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded inA Plastic Daffodil in a Grecian Urn's LiveJournal:

Friday, December 19th, 2003
_10:38 pm_[apel]	Introduction and Help With a Limerick Hi everybodymactavish pointed me at this community when I was talking about exploring new verse forms. I'm impressed by what I've seen so far. Lately I've mostly been writing haikus and reworking some with my photography into haigis. Thinking I wanted to branch out a bit, I've been trying my hand at a limerick. It's not going all that well, though, so I thought I'd ask you guys for some pointers. Below is the limerick in its present shape. As you can see the most glaring problems are the missing rhyme in the fourth line and the extra weak syllable in the last one. Any ideas would be most welcome. The poem is about an actual person. He also has raven black, glossy hair and a beer belly to play around with. Limerick about M. There was a young man from fair Bangalore,Who swaggered like cowboys of yore,In his bellbottoms wider Than the Ganghes and nobody Could have guessed that he's a terrible bore.Any ideas gratefully received. Current Mood: rhyming (7 Comments \|Comment on this)
Saturday, November 29th, 2003
_9:51 am_[hitchhiker]	The Klein Stein, or A Mug's Game (Yes, there really is one)A mathematician named KleinRegarding a puddle of wineSaid "It's true, not a lot'llRemain in my bottleBut I did hope for more from the stein!"Which prompted his friend to observe"The mug has a beautiful curve,But it doesn't take EinsteinTo notice the Klein SteinIs totally unfit to serve"( thoughts on multiple-limerick poems Collapse )p.s. I'm finding it unusually hard to write a ballad (partly as a result of being writers-blocked over the last month or so, partly because it's a very difficult form for my style), but I'm loath to abandon it altogether and move on to C. So I'll be trying to ramp up with a series of easier exercises, while keeping the ballad simmering on the back burner. (2 Comments \|Comment on this)
Monday, October 6th, 2003
_2:14 am_[hitchhiker]	B is for Ballad _The tension-then-release, almost "Slinky" approach is really a song form -- more than half the songs you listen to on the radio are ballads -- even many where the beat is speeded up well beyond its deliberative roots in story-based, English folk music. -- Al Rocheleau_The ballad's roots in song and story are well known; less well known is that the word refers to a well-defined (though not too rigid) form. The form is a fairly natural one - four line stanzas, usually with a 4-3-4-3 metrical pattern (one form of the classic 4x4 metre underlying most English poetry), and most commonly rhyming abcb. The length is unprescribed, and (as the name suggests) the poem should tell a story.A good introduction to the form More on the underlying stanza, with some famous examples A detailed guide to writing a ballad Writing an authentic-sounding "period" balladAs usual, discussion and suggestions for a C here, poems posted to top level. (Comment on this)
Saturday, October 4th, 2003
_2:42 am_[hitchhiker]	Alchemist (acrostic triolet) 'Alchemist'Earth and water, air and fireSwirl beneath my guiding handSubtle tracing of desireEarth and water, air and fireNature rendered in my pyreCrafted, shaped at my commandEarth and water, air and fireSwirl beneath my guiding handCriticism welcome as always. Current Mood: And that (said John) is that (7 Comments \|Comment on this)
Sunday, September 28th, 2003
_8:40 am_[livingfire]	Acrostic Siamese (haiku) Creamy fur, dark tippedAzure eyes demand worshipTimid, but untamed (1 Comment \|Comment on this)
_7:12 pm_[hitchhiker]	A is for Acrostic Acrostic Verse: A form in which the first letters of each line spell out something meaningful. For full effect, the poem and the spelt out words should be connected. Here are some examples[Not to be confused with the acrostic puzzle, where the verse consists of a series of clues, the answers to which are the lights of the acrostic. (Lewis Carroll is perhaps the best known practitioner of either form).]The actual verse form is not prescribed, but it is usually structured (there is little challenge or point, after all, in simply writing a series of lines that start with the letters you want). Other than that, it spans the gamut - my personal favourite is a limerick I once saw in an old issue of Asimov's where the initial letters spelt out ALIEN, the first four lines were a plot summary of the movie, and the last line was "Now we're waiting for Alien 2" (if anyone remembers and can tell me the full limerick, I'll be eternally grateful).I'll write and post an acrostic sometime this week; if anyone else would like to play along, please post in top-level rather than as a reply to this post. I'll move on to B next Sunday - suggestions welcomed :) (4 Comments \|Comment on this)
Thursday, August 7th, 2003
_6:28 pm_[onda_bianca]	First Post...:) Hi everyone! I just joined and this is my first post...:) I look forward to posting and reading more here and getting to know you all!:) DelusionI wear Gucci and Prada and shop at SaksYou should see my new $200 slacks.Only the best and most expensive for me,Platinum gold and 24 karot jewelry.You can tell by looking I'm super high classPay no attention to the termite that just crawled up my ass!Throw me a paradeParticipate in this charadeHonestyModestyGenuine compassionWhy should I give a fuck as long as I have fashionI believe to the highest possible degreeThat everyone only wishes they could be just like me. Current Mood: bouncy (1 Comment \|Comment on this)
Thursday, June 26th, 2003
_3:31 pm_[jenlittlebottom]	A sestina... Written as a challenge piece for a friend, who gave me the six words: butterfly, tomato, green, shell, cup, chair( Butterfly Enthroned Forever Collapse ) Current Mood: bouncy (1 Comment \|Comment on this)
Monday, June 16th, 2003
_11:30 pm_[jenlittlebottom]	Chain Villanelle - resurrected and completed. :) By hitchhiker, quasigeostrophy, semperfiona, and myself.Forgive me that my heart could not be boughtWith sparkling promises and gilded liesIt was not love but conquest that you soughtDifficult times and troubles, all you wroughtTurning to grey what had been clear blue skiesForgive me that my heart could not be boughtYour importuning long I foughtMy head denies, my heart complies:It was not love but conquest that you soughtA gilded cage you offered, all for noughtA songbird only sings when free it fliesForgive me that my heart could not be boughtYou spoke of yearning, but your words were fraughtWith tenderness that never touched your eyesIt was not love but conquest that you soughtForgive me that I'd rather not be caughtBy one who thinks me no more than a prizeForgive me that my heart could not be boughtIt was not love but conquest that you soughtOh yeah, and I'm new here. waves (1 Comment \|Comment on this)
Thursday, June 5th, 2003
_12:52 pm_[hitchhiker]	triolet ( mild obscenity - read at your own risk Collapse ) (1 Comment \|Comment on this)
Sunday, June 1st, 2003
_8:07 pm_[cadhla]	Villanelle: The Selkie Bride. I loved you, but you never could be mine;That's what it means to be a selkie bride.I walked the shore and waited for a sign.You used to say there was a grand design,And smile, and I'd forget the ocean wide.I loved you, but you never could be mine.The winter came, and so the columbineForsook the sky and died.I walked the shore and waited for a signTo tell me -- should I stay? Should I resignMy place within your arms, leave you denied?I loved you, but you never could be mine;Our hearts were never meant to intertwine.The day I said I'd stay with you, I lied.I walked the shore and waited for a sign.I'll raise our daughter in the endless brine;She has your eyes. She wears my father's hide.I loved you, but you never could be mine.I walked the shore and waited for a sign.(This poem was written as part of my current round of The Iron Poet game in my own LJ. If you haven't left me three words yet, you should!) Current Mood: artistic (2 Comments \|Comment on this)
Saturday, May 31st, 2003
_6:00 pm_[mabcon]	Twin diamonds dance in the nightStars, eyes watchingLady Night clothed in moonlight.Cloaked in darknessWatch over us and guard our path. (Comment on this)
Friday, May 16th, 2003
_10:23 pm_[mabcon]	Sweet Moonlight Moonlight, sweet moonlightI blush under your gaze.A cat’s eye in the heavensYou look down upon me.From your heavenly perchNothing is hidden.There are no secrets,No path you do not see.You know my heart.From you I can keep nothingThere are no hidden truths Nor thoughts unspokenIn the depth of night youHave watched my dreams.Look down and bless meOh sweet moonlight. (Comment on this)
Saturday, May 10th, 2003
_3:55 pm_[hitchhiker]	The seduction of metre From a piece on Sapphics:If you try your hand at this stanza, you should be warned that it's addictive. When you're in the middle of writing one, its rhythm--so close, after all, to a heartbeat--has a way of entering your bloodstream when you aren't looking. Get up from your desk and take a walk and clear your head, and you'll find that the stanza--the last line especially--is following you. Shave and a haircut; oboe concerto; Emily Brontë; over and over; where am I going? It's insidious; it's unstoppable! -- Rachel Wetzsteon, 'Marvellous Sapphics'I know just what she means - double dactyls have much the same sort of insidious fascination. In my case, it's the last two lines I find especially mindworming, the run of three dactyls and then the single stressed syllable that provides a double closure, both to the metre of the second verse and to the hanging rhyme from the first. (Note that the first verse of a double dactyl typically ends on a bit of a rising note, and the last verse on a properly conclusive end-stop).Particularly when I'm out walking somewhere, and idly daydreaming, I find myself arranging an errant thought into the familiar ten syllable pattern; if sufficiently motivated I might go ahead and write the poem, but I've found that forcing it isn't worth the results.It's an interesting extrapolation of the earworm phenomenon (and it happens with songs too; every now and then I'll find myself trying to recast whatever I'm currently saying to myself into whatever tune is haunting the filk section of my mind). The 'fifteener' metre ("Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay", "In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.") often catches my mind in the same way, and I know other people who likewise fall into blank verse, or Hiawatha metre. Read the rest of the anecdotes site, incidentally - it's a little exiguous, but there's some nice stuff in there. (Comment on this)
Friday, May 9th, 2003
_11:17 pm_[mabcon]	Home of my heart Light fall upon me and nurture meSunshine grace my head as I walk byForest path be kind to my feet as I make my way to your center,Home of my heart (Comment on this)
Friday, March 21st, 2003
_12:35 am_[drainthesea]	fear and awe this desert never looked so truetill it shown so red and so freeand we are the holiest of all tonightthe last shall be first when it's throughloving down our barrels we can't seeand when you are alone, who will you fightzealot harlot hypocrit you smoke filled empty room void soul vaccum self consuming worm eaten and rotting you can't go away fast enough can yousend us to our death for an empty word forgotten and lost in a sea of laziness and ignoranceI am sick of this horse shit backwards world and these pathetic excuses for human beingswhen will our desire ever stop (Comment on this)
Monday, March 17th, 2003
_11:45 am_[mylifeundressed]	Lift this veil, so that I may seeThe chaos that’s surrounding me.This perfect box you placed me in,I’ve molded and shaped into my own prison.Vague memories dance inside my head,A childhood lost, firm boundaries instead.I push against the cold, steel doorUntil I can’t feel pain anymore.Numb and ignorant I am forced to be.A flagrant victim of society.Painted windows do not light my way;I live in darkness everyday.Bleeding fingernails scratch and clawAt bitter memories that I can’t recall,And reveal the life I never livedOr ever got the chance to miss. I'm new to this community, so I thought I'd post one of my recent poems. Any/All comments welcome. =) (4 Comments \|Comment on this)
Wednesday, March 12th, 2003
_5:53 pm_[ex_portraitu692]	first post! hey everyone. i just joined up :) i've been writing tanka lately and i'd like some c&c. tanka is like haiku with two 7-syllable lines tacked on the end. here are two i've been working on the past two days:1.the inky blacknessof this december-esque night--driving once alonewindows down - cold wind rinsingyour stain knotted through my hair2.did i eat today?or did i eat yesterdayno memory servesevening that melts away lite--my mouth an open darkness(they're angsty, i know. any suggestions?) (Comment on this)
Tuesday, March 11th, 2003
_11:52 am_[drainthesea]	Collective/group poetry You almost got the idea of what I was talking about. I was thinking of exactly what you guys did, but less strict. Really what I had in mind was that when you continue the poem, you CAN keep up the rhyme scheme or verse form or whatever, but you don't HAVE to. If you feel inspired by the piece to go off in some different direction, then DO IT. Conversely, if you LOVE the flow or sound and want to "come back" with something emulating the previous form or rhyme then DO IT. The idea is to try and tap in to some meaning and nourish it so that it grows. Just decide what it means to you and go from there. Like I said before, no rules, just spirit.I'll continue what you’ve done so far here in this post and we can continue it by replying.Forgive me that my heart could not be boughtWith sparkling promises and gilded liesIt was not love but conquest that you soughtDifficult times and troubles, all you wroughtTurning to grey what had been clear blue skiesForgive me that my heart could not be boughtYour importuning long I foughtMy head denies, my heart complies:It was not love but conquest that you soughtand what a lesson time has taughtof biting and buzzing fliesyour brothers learned but you have notlearned of all these chains and rotthat darken your tired eyesand where were you going with your chains and fineryyour walls giving shape and formhow will you ever reach divinitywith a vessel not worthy of the stormI will drain this sea of the masquerading who want to drown in the their own mudwill you be the wheelwill you carry all things downwardor will you be the creatorcarve new tablets to replace the oldkaleidoscope eyesand happy little lieshave taken me to my endso come jump aboardwith pen or with swordthis death is where You will begin (2 Comments \|Comment on this)
Monday, March 10th, 2003
_1:47 pm_[semperfiona]	Tinkering tailoringDevious clothiersWove some new robes of in-Visible yarn"Caveat emperor,"RevelatorilyShouted a youngster, "YourClothes are a yarn!" (2 Comments \|Comment on this)

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