A silly poem or two

rogersgeorge on April 5th, 2012

Fred Langa, a techie whose material I read assiduously, recently posted a link to a humorous drawing. Here’s the link to Fred’s blog, which has a link to the drawing, but don’t click it until you finish my post. The title on Fred’s post was a short version of the picture’s caption (which has nothing to do with my post), and the title was metrical in a manner that reminded me of a poem. Here’s the title:

The bedside lamp flew away in a huff.

The name of this kind of meter slips my mind at the moment, but it’s an old way of writing poetry. We see it in the nursery rhyme Four and Twenty Blackbirds and Pease Porridge Hot. It consists of evenly spaced accents with a varying number of unaccented syllables between the accented syllables. Try it on that title, and you’ll get four evenly spaced accents. Now to the poem it reminded me of:

Way down yonder not so very far off
A jaybird died of the whooping cough.
He whooped so hard of that whooping cough
That he whooped his head and his tail clean off!

The poem is supposed to be recited with some complicated hand motions what would be difficult to describe. The motions  are best demonstrated, and they make a good activity to warm up a crowd. Write me and I’ll tell you how to do them.

Now I have a confession to make. The title about the bedside lamp didn’t remind me of the jaybird poem right away. After all, all I saw was the title. I saw “bedside” and “huff” and my mind went in its own direction. I immediately thought up a poem rather different from the theme of the humorous drawing. I capitalized to help you see the accented syllables.

the Bedside Lamp flew aWay in a Huff
he Said, “I’ve Seen eNough of this Stuff.”
I’ll Come back in the Morning when the Day is Bright;
I Care not What you guys Do all Night.

(I admit it, I’m bad.) Now I invite You to write a Funny old Poem.

 

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Poem rejected

rogersgeorge on December 14th, 2011

Yesterday my wife and I celebrated our ninth anniversary of wedded bliss. We have a tradition that I write her a poem every year to celebrate. For your amusement, here is a quatrain I wrote, then rejected.

A nine-year party, now who’d’a thunk it?
With me so old, that’s quite a junket
‘Cause she’s a young, good lookin’, chick,
At least she likes my manly oops

(You didn’t think I’d really write that, did you?) The one she got was much nicer and more romantic, and I set it in an old-fashioned font (small x-height) nicely formatted on a page. She has a picture frame in her office where she puts the most recent poem. The bad poem, above, is a quatrain consisting of four accentual feet each, rhyme scheme AABB. The good poem, which I’m not sharing unless my wife asks me to, contains four couplets, each consisting of a double dactyl and a molossus. (Look it up. They’re not supposed to exist in English poetry, but I can do ’em.)

Update: Not only does my wife want me to post the “good” poem, but she wrote me one! so if you can stand all the sentimental treacle, here are two more poems. Mine first:

Year nine

Valerie George is my
Dear sweet wife.
Hug her and kiss her my
Whole sweet life.
Tease me and please me my
Whole life long,
Mess me or bless me, my
Life a song.

Just so you know: Four couplets, each consisting of a double dactyl and a molossus.

She said the footnote was very me. (I should add that I read her to sleep every night when I’m home.) Here’s her poetic reply:

Read to me
All my days
Of Science and farming
And kids and their ways.
Your voice fills my mind
With beautiful phrases.
Whether couplets or dactyls
To me it amazes
The love of my life
Gives the gift of his voice
Reassuring to me that I made a wise choice!
The sound of my love fulfills all my wishes,
The only thing sweeter…one of his kisses.

You might be wondering what we look like. Here’s a picture of us.

Valerie and her curmudgeon