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Passions in Poetry

Poetic "Theft" Challenge

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Ringo
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Saluting with misty eyes


0 posted 08-13-2010 12:57 AM       View Profile for Ringo   Email Ringo   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Ringo

Many years ago, there was a challenge to use another poet's words to create something original. I recently completed it again, and figured it would be interesting to see what came out of it all these seasons later.

The rules are thus:
Chose the opening line to any poem by any poet and use it as the opening line for your work. Then, keep writing your own original words behind the borrowed phrase.
Bonus points if you can begin and end the poem with the same line.

Here is my entry: http://piptalk.com/pip/Forum112/HTML/002400.html

Have Fun!

Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting, "WHAT A RIDE

Amaryllis
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since 05-20-2010
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Mi now


1 posted 08-13-2010 04:02 PM       View Profile for Amaryllis   Email Amaryllis   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Amaryllis

*Inspired by (1st line borrowed from)  Ted Kooser`s  `Tattoo`.  I do adore Kooser! His every work is a masterpiece.
.
.
What once was meant to be a statement
only, merely an observation
of the world as viewed through
my particular kaleidescope,
became instead a sieve,
a lattice of transparancy
patterned with holes
through which my editorial
flowed helpless and indulgent:
though my words said
"You seem distracted"
all the history poured
out with the syllabels;
the heavy silences, the
sleepless dawns,
the cruel convictions and
the empty tissue boxes,
the discovery on
white receipts,
confession, absolution
empty beds, all these,
though overcome,
but not forgotten,
took the chance to leap
away through space,
so although you simply nodded,
while pawing through the mail
your set of lip,
your turn of shoulder
led me to understand
all that I had said in
what once was meant to be a statement.
.
.
.
PS: I deliberately departed wildly from Kooser`s use of the line; I did not want to even attempt to approach his masterpiece.. I hope I have been able to do it justice to some degree...or at least to not have made a fool of myself.. :p  heh!
Ringo
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2 posted 08-15-2010 12:17 AM       View Profile for Ringo   Email Ringo   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Ringo

Life and laziness has prevented me from coming back to this forum....
I think you did a phenomenal job of this...

Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting, "WHAT A RIDE

Amaryllis
Senior Member
since 05-20-2010
Posts 1325
Mi now


3 posted 08-15-2010 12:29 AM       View Profile for Amaryllis   Email Amaryllis   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Amaryllis

Thank you, Ringo... it cannot compare to your take on Ginsberg, which as I mentioned in poetry #46 forum was excellent.. and I understand about life and difficulty visiting the forums! That`s the pace here in Poetry Challenge, it seems.. and no problem there.     
Will be interesting to see what others come up with, also..!  Fun.  I`m glad you put this idea out there.
~Amaryllis
Graffiti Poet
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since 06-21-2011
Posts 12


4 posted 06-24-2011 05:08 PM       View Profile for Graffiti Poet   Email Graffiti Poet   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Graffiti Poet

The first line is from Marriott Edgar's The recumbent Posture. Couldn't do the last line this time. Stephen

Alberts Christmas Present

The day afore Christmas young Albert
was anxious and wanted to know,
"Is Santa still coming tomorrow
on account of the sleet and the snow?."

Mr. Ramsbottom assured him
“Of course he is lad 'ave no fear,
he's transport for all kinds of weather
what's powered by eight flying deer.”

“Should a thick fog descend in the evening
and no matter just how hard it snows,
he's another he's able to call on
what's famous the most for it's nose.”

Dad said "Have you written to Santa
to tell him what you want most?",
Albert said “Yes, yes I have Dad,
and I gave it to Mother to post."

Mother poured a large Sherry for Santa
to drink with a mince pie or two,
a saucer of milk for the Reindeers
and a Carrot for Rudolf to chew."

Alberts fears had been fully abated
contented he went to his bed,
to wait for St. Nick and the Reindeers
and Rudolf who's nose was bright Red.

When Albert was finally sleeping
Mother turned round and told Dad,
“Bring yon stick with the 'orses 'ead 'andle
we bought down the town for our lad."

Mother said as she gift wrapped the present
and finished it off nice with a bow,
“It's too big to put in his stocking
so under the tree it must go.”

When Albert woke up in the morning
he were eager and anxious to see,
if Santa had granted his wishes
and left him owt under the tree.

He jumped out of bed all excited
it didn't take long to get dressed,
Albert jumped up and down when he found it
shouting “Santa's sent just what I'd asked.”

He charged round the room at a gallop
his shouting woke up Mum and Dad,
“It's the best thing I've ever been given”
Mother and Dad were both glad.

“It's nice too see Albert so happy”
said Mum as she snuggled up warm,
"and with a stick and an 'orses 'ed 'andle
our Albert should come to no harm.

[This message has been edited by Graffiti Poet (06-24-2011 05:41 PM).]

Balladeer
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5 posted 06-24-2011 05:28 PM       View Profile for Balladeer   Email Balladeer   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Balladeer's Home Page   View IP for Balladeer

Excellent work, GP!!!!!
Balladeer
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Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA


6 posted 06-24-2011 06:07 PM       View Profile for Balladeer   Email Balladeer   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Balladeer's Home Page   View IP for Balladeer

With apologies to Joyce Kilmer....


I think that I shall never see
Myself conduct a symphony.
I’ll never see a silver star
Or   be a hero in a war.
No children will I ever raise
To add small pleasure to my days
Nor will I ever take a wife
To join me for a happy life.
It pains me greatly to report
That I will never play a sport
Or feel the thrill of victory
As fans applaud and envy me.
I watch the children as they pass
And frolic in the new-mown grass
Hear their laughter – see their joy.
How I wish I were a boy!
But those things I will never see
For I am nothing but a tree.

Graffiti Poet
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since 06-21-2011
Posts 12


7 posted 06-24-2011 06:33 PM       View Profile for Graffiti Poet   Email Graffiti Poet   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Graffiti Poet

Right back at you Sir....
 
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