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Get Off Your Assonance!
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Get Off Your Assonance! |
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Balladeer
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Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA 
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So how has the workshop gone? Let's see now. In the first color assignment we had: Alison Marge Ron Maureen Munda In our second assignment on colors we had Alison Maureen Sunshine Munda Marge Dr. Moose On the iambics assignment we had Alison Maureen Essorant Nan Munda Claira Dr. Moose Internal Rhyme brought out Sunshine Titia Essorant Alison Susan Caldwell Marilyn Dr. Moose Male, Female & Triples were performed by Alison Marilyn Dr. Moose There were a couple who never returned after being critiqued and I'll apologize for that. I've tried to keep things friendly, encouraging and positive. For those who have stuck with it, I thank you. And now it is time for you to get off, or rather get on, your assonance! Assonance is repetition of vowel sounds to create internal rhyming within phrases or sentences, and together with alliteration and consonance serves as one of the building blocks of verse. For example, in the phrase "Do you like blue?", the "oo" (ou/ue) sound is repeated within the sentence and is assonant. Hear the m(e)llow w(e)dding b(e)lls. — Edgar Allan Poe, "The Bells" And (mur)muring of innu(mer)able bees - Alfred Lord Tennyson, The Princess VII.203 The cr(u)mbling th(u)nder of seas — Robert Louis Stevenson That solit(u)de which s(u)its abstr(u)ser m(u)sings - Samuel Taylor Coleridge So on with the assignment. Give me a poem with strong usage of assonance to give the lines strength. Be sure not to let the meter or rythm suffer through the attempt. You still here?  |
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Dr.Moose1 Member Elite
since 1999-09-05
Posts 3448Bewilderment , USA |
Balladeer, Yup, you ain't skeered me oft yet. Doc P.s. but, don't think I didn't notice you listed me last for every assignment. Is that any way to treat your star pupil? |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Never heard of saving the best for last, Moose? |
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Alison 
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
Well, the doc might be your best student - but I am your slowest learner, by cracky!  |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
All depends how you look at it, Alison. Doc has a lot of experience and natural skill. If I judged my students on how much they have improved, you would get the gold star |
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Alison
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
Why thank you (and I think that the Doc takes his sense of humor very, VERY seriously - or so he says. Yep, that is what he says.). |
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Alison
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
Man, this is hard!  |
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Marilyn Member Elite
since 1999-09-26
Posts 2621Ontario, Canada |
I didn't leave...just life getting in the way as usual...lol. Things get very busy with a household of teenagers. I will be back maybe with some pauses but I really want to get my writing back on track. I am finding it difficult but nothing in life worth while is easy...lol M |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Marilyn, you mean you're choosing your teenagers over the Poetry workshop????? That's appalling ANYTIME you show up is a treat, m'lady. Put them up for adoption and come back to us!  |
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xTr3m3sT Member
since 2008-03-03
Posts 415 |
My pain b(e)llows, (e)cho's, m(e)llows when I hear the cell(o)'s foll(o)w my thoughts of imm(e)nse, t(e)nse, suspenc(e) ang(e)r while it ling(e)rs again. |
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Munda Member Elite
since 1999-10-08
Posts 3544The Hague, The Netherlands |
I'm so sorry Balladeer for disappearing, but real life has found a way (again) to keep me busy. My job is on the line and right now I need all my energy (and creativity) for that. GRR! I'll be back, although I have no clue when. Sigh... |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
My pain b(e)llows, (e)cho's, m(e)llows when I hear the cell(o)'s foll(o)w my thoughts of imm(e)nse, t(e)nse, suspenc(e) ang(e)r while it ling(e)rs again. Ok, Angel. You have good assonance there. The (e) in suspence is not one since the letter is silent). I twould be interesting to know what you mean by this poem. What pain are you referring to? What is suspence anger? Simply employing assonance isn't enough if it doesn'a add to the poem or readers can't relate to it. Care to enlighten me? |
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xTr3m3sT Member
since 2008-03-03
Posts 415 |
Well, I wrote this because I was feeling very upset due to family affairs, and my friend showed me a cello piece that calmed me down o.o though the anger still lingered. |
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xTr3m3sT Member
since 2008-03-03
Posts 415 |
Listen to the cello's bellow in my sleep while my hollow sorrow burns in yesterday's tommorow. Wallowing in despair for the shadows don't care about the pain that shoots right there....there... Listen, the strings of the cello moves the mellow nature of my fingers. Please, see the light in my sight for this fight is on bended knee the trio of pain hurts me deeply and I have nothing to gain. |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Now you are talking, Angel! The meaning is much clearer and the wording and usage of sounds precise. Very nicely done....  |
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xTr3m3sT Member
since 2008-03-03
Posts 415 |
:]]] Thanks, am I doing well here? |
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rachaelfuchsberger
since 2007-02-21
Posts 609Las Vegas, NV |
Hmm...I can't seem to find the first (or maybe second) color assignment or the iambic. I've found the others. Perhaps someone knows where I can find the missing color assignment and the iambic one? Arana Darkwolf |
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crosscountry83 Member
since 2009-07-30
Posts 345 |
This was hard! I'm not even sure if I'm doing it right but here is my try. I gl(a)nce up (a)t my d(a)d. I f(i)nd his m(i)nd in m(i)ne. Why c(a)n he (a)ct so s(a)d? Because h(i)gh fl(i)es the t(i)me. |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
I thought that the following poem ~ which I posted back in 2002, might work for this exercise. Here's hoping! 'Angel' crosses her proverbial wings.  In Days of Yore In days of yore, on distant shore, Merry minstrels made their way, Blowing flutes, and plucking lutes, ~ 'Twas a fanciful display. As jesters pranced, their merry dance, Children laughed with mirthful glee, For what they saw, filled them with awe, To behold such pageantry. As all drew nigh, with spirits high, To join this revelry, Dog nips at heel ~ made children squeal, ~ 'Twas a merry sight to see. Fresh-baked bread, filled their head, As villagers gathered 'round, Vendors shout, "Come buy my stout! It's the best brew in the town!" Both knight and serf, gave of their worth, To honor one another, Come once a year ~ at this time of cheer, All became the other's brother. As village folk, did laugh and joke, In joyful merriment, All was well, in the derry-o-dell, On this day of sweet content. LLD |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
Well, I decided that I should probably write something new for this assignment ~ instead of borrowing from the past, if you will! I threw in a mix of assonance and alliteration.  My muse intrudes my solitude with mumblings She flutters and mutters ~ nearly ev’ry night! Tho’ Mary the Fairy is cute and capricious, I need my sleep and do not want to write! LLD |
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Alison
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
Me thinks our 'deer is playing hooky. Hope he is not out sick - thinking of you, Balladeer. xooxxo A |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
I'm baaaaack! Angel, your second one is much more in tune with assonance than the older one, although I really enjoyed it. (even if it goes back to the days when you employed the evil "did"). Thank you!  |
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Alison
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
Yay! |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
Adorable Alison, it would appear that our dear Deer has recuperated from his golf game. lol Hi, Teach! I'm pleased that you enjoyed my "In Days of Yore". Aw, yes, the good ole days. I remember them well. I'm relieved that I had my Ass(onance) in gear for the second submission. Thank you for checking them out and for your comments. Cheers! LL |
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Alison
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
Yeah, that's right. It's all about putters and ... never mind. A |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
relentless these: my dreams are screams the painted open mouth of "O" the torque increased my tainted sheets still creased from last night's episode... |
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crosscountry83 Member
since 2009-07-30
Posts 345 |
Sir Balladeer, I think the poem I tried to write with assonance got lost in all posts. I don't know though hehe. Rileigh |
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Dr.Moose1 Member Elite
since 1999-09-05
Posts 3448Bewilderment , USA |
OMG! Balladeer, now you've even managed to lure serenity in here! And at one time you thought you were wasting your efforts! Perseverence m'friend. Doc |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Good grief! It IS her!! She got off, or rather on, her assonance and submitted an excellent piece. I will never doubt again!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
*raising my hand* Is there a difference between slant rhyme and assonance? Or does it depend on which way the wind is blowin'?  |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
tsk to me... I forgot to give hugs and kisses.  |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Hey, serenity gal! Actually there is no similarity between the two. Slant rhyme is using words that "sorta" rhyme at the ends of the line. I tried to find a bar But couldn't find one near. Assonance is using similar sounding vowels within words, like you did in your example. That's the slant of it |
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crosscountry83 Member
since 2009-07-30
Posts 345 |
Sir Balladeer, Sorry to be annoying, but I'm re-posting this because I think it got overlooked. If not, just ignore it... "I gl(a)nce up (a)t my d(a)d. I f(i)nd his m(i)nd in m(i)ne. Why c(a)n he (a)ct so s(a)d? Because h(i)gh fl(i)es the t(i)me." Rileigh |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Hi, Rileigh....yes, it was overlooked, sorry. You got the vowel sounds in nicely and provided the assonance requested...good work! |
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crosscountry83 Member
since 2009-07-30
Posts 345 |
Thanks, What about meter, I know I've been having lots of trouble with it, what can I change? Rileigh |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
I'm glad to see that the workshop is well and alive - the last few times I have posted here, I've never got a response  Here's a translation of Rimbaud with which I've focused mostly on assonance and consonance; I've followed the original French syllable-count, and - with some metrical substitutions - have kept it mostly iambic (it is, after all, a translation.) A DREAM FOR WINTER To xxx Her Winter: we will go in a little pink caboose adorned with blue cushions. We will feel well. A nest of crazy kisses rest in each mellow recess. You’ll close your eyes, and, in the looking glass of ice, grimace at shadows in twilight. Those are monstrous, aggressive creatures: a dark mass of demons and of wolves, all black. Then you’ll become aware of your cheek being scraped by a little kiss, which, like a crazy spider, will run along your nape... and you will tell me, “Seek!”, as you let your head lean; - and we will take some time to find this tiny beast - which does travel a lot. Here's the original French poem for reference: REVER POUR L’HIVER A xxx Elle. L’hiver, nous irons dans un petit wagon rose Avec des coussins bleus. Nous serons bien. Un nid de baisers fous repose Dans chaque coin moelleux. Tu fermeras l’oeil, pour ne point voir: par la glace, Grimacer les ombres de soirs, Ces monstruosites hargneuses, populace De demons noirs et de loups noirs. Puis tu te sentiras la joue egratignee... Un petit baiser, comme une folle araignee, Te courra par le cou... Et tu me diras: “Cherche!”, en inclinant la tete; - Et nous prendrons du temps a trouver cette bete - Qui voyage beaucoup. [This message has been edited by Marc-Andre (08-12-2009 03:24 AM).] |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
This one uses poetic devices. Will it also go without response? You wrote: There were a couple who never returned after being critiqued and I'll apologize for that. I've tried to keep things friendly, encouraging and positive. For those who have stuck with it, I thank you. I say: I welcome critiques, and the more thorough the better. I had not returned for a while after NOT being critiqued at all. I understand that there are circumstances in life when one is out of time, so I thought I'd come back when things seemed alive again. But somehow, I've got my doubts...if you can dispel them, I'll be more than delighted. [This message has been edited by Marc-Andre (08-13-2009 12:34 AM).] |
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crosscountry83 Member
since 2009-07-30
Posts 345 |
Don't worry, Sir Balladeer has a lot of poems to review, he will get to your eventually. If not, just *bump* it to the top. He hasn't answered my question above either, so chances are he hasn't been on this thread... be patient haha. Rileigh |
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Alison
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
Ya know, Mark, we all have had to bump our work up from time to time. Sometimes it gets lost in the posts. Sometimes there are things going on when Balladeer just can't be here. This is a huge undertaking for one individual. Why not do like the rest of us and just nag him? It makes it far more fun here and you get the desired result. Critique. We could also consider taking up a collection and offer him a raise. Last I heard, he made nada for all this free advice and expertise he offers. I think we could, at least, offer him brownies (points). Welcome back. Alison |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
Here's another one, where I've tried to actually make the sound structure of the poem an ugly one: 10 years later: 14 April 1922 I met a sailor from a dated era who boasted to a deafened flock of drunk riffraff about the riches in his trunk and of a beautiful young bride named Sarah. In this odd pub an hour drive from Canberra across the street from where I had found bunk, I pitied this old bloke, his fortunes sunk in rum, and squired but by his own Chimera. “My name is Edward Smith, the ‘Millionaire’s Captain.’ God himself couldn’t sink my ship!” It was then I saw Beelzebub come in, who said: I, who shares Santa Claus’ despairs since Lust increased dust-destined souls to whip, proclaim you ‘Pride’, a premier deadly sin!” |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
A very interesting write, Marc, constructed with wrap-around rhymes that make it a rhymed poem but reading like free verse. That's a good style. I thought the first half of the poem was excellent. I could see and feel the scenario you painted. Beginning with the "My name is..", however, I started to feel a little confused and lost the flavor I had had. God knows that I am not well-schooled in free verse and things obvious to many tend to get past me and I'm afraid that happened here....my problem, not yours. COuld you enlighten me on the ending? |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
Thanks Balladeer. I had written a response, but then thought that I should clarify within the poem. I've already posted a revision below. [This message has been edited by Marc-Andre (08-20-2009 11:57 PM).] |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
First Revision I met a sailor from a dated era who boasted to deserting flocks of drunk riffraffs about the riches in his trunk and of a beautiful young bride named Sarah. In this odd pub an hour drive from Canberra across the street from where I had found bunk, I pitied this old bloke, his fortunes sunk in rum, and squired but by his own Chimera. “My name is Edward Smith, the ‘Millionaire’s Captain,’ the one who said that God himself couldn’t sink his ship.” Sunk are his Turkish bath and Café Parisien. Stripped of his wares, this Job of Satan, this cast out nonself to God, must tread an ever downward path. |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
hiccup* [This message has been edited by Marc-Andre (08-21-2009 07:30 AM).] |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
Revision Two I met a sailor from a dated era who boasted to deserting flocks of drunk riffraff about the silver in his trunk and an exquisite consort christened Sarah. In this odd pub an hour drive from Canberra across the street from where I'd found my bunk, I pitied this old bloke, his fortunes sunk in rum, and squired but by his own Chimera. “My name is Edward Smith, the ‘Millionaire’s Captain, and I still claim that God himself can’t sink my ship.” Sunk are his Turkish bath and Café Parisien. Stripped of his wares, this Satan’s Job, this cast away nonself to God, must tread an ever sloping path. [This message has been edited by Marc-Andre (08-21-2009 07:29 AM).] |
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Balladeer
Administrator
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since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Hello, Marc! Yes, I had read your original notes but didn't have time to respond at the time. As far as referring to it as wrap-around rhyming free verse, I didn't pick up the metrical structure. To me, it began... i MET a SAIL-or FROM a DAT-ed E-ra ...................................... (good iambic for those who would accent 'from')) who BOAST-ed TO de-SER-ting FLOCKS of DRUNK...................(also good iambic) RIFF-raff a-BOUT the SIL-ver IN his TRUNK.................................(begins trochaic) and an EX-qui-site CON-sort named SAR-ah.............................(anapest, anapest, anapest ) in THIS odd PUB an HO-ur DRIVE from can-BER-ra....................(good iambic except for "from can") The Ozymandius reference (which happens to be one of my favorite poems of all times) is clear now that you pointed it out and I should have seen it. My apologies for that. As far as your revisions go, first of all, I think the changes in the second stanza are a vast improvement over the original. and of a beautiful young bride named Sarah.......first revision and an exquisite consort christened Sarah.........2nd revision The first one flows much smoother with the B sounds than the second one with the hard C's, since these lines represent the sad recounting of memories and not actions, where a "hard" sound would add power, instead of melancholy. In the second, though, you did drop the "of", which I agree with completely, which hindered the smooth flow to the rest of the line. SO I would come up with - and a beautiful young bride names Sarah across the street from where I had found bunk, across the street from where I'd found my bunk, Interesting here. There are purists who hate contractions in poetry unless absolutely necessary. I'm not one. The "where I had found bunk" is a little clumsy to me because one needs to put the accent on "had" to maintain the flow and yet it is followed by an action word, instead of a passive one, which makes a difference. The second revision is fine, but I'm not wild about the sounds of "I'd found", in contrast to the smooth sounds of the use of "s" in across and street and the "r" in where. "Finding" a bunk is not necessary, anyway. I'd prefer something like across the street from where I had my bunk. In that way, "had" will receive it's proper accent, being followed by a passive word and the meaning of the sentence is not changed.I will have to get the second stanza later since I'm off to work but those are my thought and suggestions so far. I will say that I enjoy the poem a little more each time I read it |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
Heartfelt thanks for taking the time to critique in such depth, Balladeer. My scansion of these two lines was different: RIFF-RAFF/ aBOUT/the SIL/ver IN /his TRUNK/ and an /exQUIS/ite CON/sort CHRIS/tened SA/rah I tend to pronounce “riffraff” has a spondee, but you are right in that the primary stress is on the first syllable and probably should be scanned as a tronchaic substitution. Some people pronounce “exquite” with the stress on the second syllable. Also, as there will often be a secondary stress on the second syllable for those who put the primary on the first, I thought it might pass for a minor ionic “and an EX-QUI/site.” I see it didn’t go through as I thought. I'd like to keep vary the meter once or twice in that piece, but I realise that I need to establish the meter firmly in the opening lines first. I will also reconsider the sounds of the second revision. I’d like to keep “consort” as it also has a naval definition. For “exquisite”, I’ve also had “glamorous” in mind, has I’m trying to include words that foreshadow the glamours of the Titanic, the “Turkish bath and Café Parisien” of the second stanza. How about “glamourous consort"? I'd also like to salvage "christened" for its naval connotation. I know there is an anapest in there, but how about "and his olympian consort, christened Sarah." (The Titanic was a ship of the "Olympic" class. It also brings an allusion to the "olympian" greatness of the Greek God. "Sarah", while actually being Captain Smith's wife name, is also the Hebrew for "princess." Am I condensing too much?) Other sounds are ugly (those “uh” and “unk” sounds ) here as the theme I’m trying to work into it is Pride. The dead Captain Smith in this piece is blinded by his own hubris. All the glories of his past are at the bottom of the ocean, and pride is all that remains. But you’re convincing me that a line that makes him more human (where he mentions his wife) is in order. Or is it? I need to consider this more thoroughly. Also, in L7, I'm changing "bloke" to "gob" (sailor), to foreshadow "God" in the sestet (also "Job" at the sight level.) I look forward to reading your take on the second stanza. Mark [This message has been edited by Marc-Andre (08-21-2009 12:35 PM).] |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
A quick revision, not yet addressing all points: I met a sailor from a dated era who boasted to deserting flocks of drunk riffraff about the silver in his trunk and his Olympian consort, christened Sarah. In this odd pub an hour drive from Canberra across the street from where I had my bunk, I pitied this old gob, his fortunes sunk in rum, and squired but by his own Chimera. “My name is Edward Smith, the ‘Millionaire’s Captain! And I still claim that God himself can’t sink my ship!” Sunk are his Turkish bath and Café Parisien. Stripped of his wares, this Satan’s Job, this cast away nonself to God, must tread an ever sloping path. Changed "exquisite" to "Olympian" (L4); "I'd found" to "I had" and "bloke" to "gob" (L7) |
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Balladeer
Administrator
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since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Marc, yes, I see what you mean about riff-raff and exquisite. We are all creatures of our surroundings. Down here, it's EXquiSITE but I know that for others it's exQUIsite. Ain't English wonderful? Olympian consort works for me. I would have a period after bunk, instead of a comma.“My name is Edward Smith, the ‘Millionaire’s Captain! And I still claim that God himself can’t sink my ship!” Sunk are his Turkish bath and Café Parisien. Stripped of his wares, this Satan’s Job, this cast away nonself to God, must tread an ever sloping path. I have a little problem with those first two lines, perhaps because the second sentence is the only one that begins trochaic. The fourth line open with an anapest. I don't know, Marc. I can read it straight through and it reads like an article or paragraph, minus the poetic flavor in the first stanza, but I have no advice on how to change it in it's current form. Sorry... |
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crosscountry83 Member
since 2009-07-30
Posts 345 |
I don't know if it's ok to suggest anything, but maybe using less enjambment would make it less like a paragraph. I don't know, just my thoughts... if I'm not supposed to say stuff like that in this forum please disregard. Rileigh |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Rileigh, you are entitled to share your thoughts here, don't worry. I like the poem. I like the way you have injected the nautical pointers into it and I like the phraseology, such as the nonself to God. I also like the theme you are promoting. I can understand where the "Millionaire's Captain" is something you want to get in, but that phrase just doesn't work for me, poetically, and I don't know how to rearrange it to make it work....or maybe it does work for you and I'm the one with the problem. That's always possible |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
Rileigh, your comments are greatly welcome with me. I see what you mean about the enjambments, and I will consider it. Part of the exercise I’ve given myself here is to write as perfect a Petrarchan sonnnet as possible without it reading like one. Balladeer, thanks for the continuous support. It’s a big bite I’ve taken here, and I am still chewing. “Millionaire’s Captain”, which was his actual nickname at the times, cannot possibly fit without a trochaic substitution. And as it is a verbatim appellation, I hesitate in changing it only to fit the meter. Perhaps I am less of a purist than you are, as I will allow myself a few metrical substitutions in a piece. I do have my self-imposed restrictions in their use though. Here’s another revision, gone is Canberra and the Café Parisien for words that should scan better. I’ve also made a few other changes, exploring a fuller range of the sailor vocabulary. Revision Four I met a sailor from a dated era who boasted to deserting flocks of drunk riffraff about the silver in his trunk and his Olympian consort, christened Sarah. Myself mere flotsam stranded on Madeira, marooned within the pub below my bunk, I pitied this old gob, his fortunes sunk in rum, and squired but by his own Chimera. “My name is Edward Smith, the ‘Millionaire Captain! And I still claim that God himself can’t sink my ship!” The band, his Turkish bath and libraries are sunk. Unrigged for fair, this Satan’s Job, this cast away nonself to God, must tread an ever sloping path. |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
That's excellent work and changes in the first stanza, Marc! I like them... As far as allowing metrical substitutions, that's what they call "poetic license". |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
Thanks Balladeer. Poetic license...I believe this must be earned, that all substitutions must be "unavoidable", in the sense that avoiding it would diminish the poem in both sound and meaning. "Captain" will probably have to stay, but I'm trying to bring the substitutions to the bare minimum. The other two I see are "Olympian" and "riffraff", which I could replace but I do not want to use a filler adjective between drug and perhaps "scum". Or would it be better to start that line on a headless iamb. I'll keep thinking. Surely in the ocean of 650,000 English words, I'll fish one that will be right. I won't let go of it until it's as perfect as can be. Again, thanks for your time and support. I am still learning a lot from you. |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Here are a few thoughts for you to consider. Yes, I added a line but it's just fiddlin' around, looking for ideas... "My name is Edward Smith, my hearties 'Captain to the Millionaires!' and I still swear No man alive or even God himself Can sink my ship!" The band, the lavish parties, And libraries are sunk. Unrigged for fair, this Satan’s Job, this cast away nonself to God, must tread an ever sloping path. |
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Marc-Andre Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501 |
Thanks Balladeer, I like the idea of adding "no men alive" and I'll sure try to have it fit within the sestet. |
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Amaryllis Senior Member
since 2010-05-20
Posts 1306Mi now |
Three things, he said, have wings: the kestrel, when aloft; flaunts a soaring ownership which man has ever sought. The lowly insect lifts on bits of gossamer, never second-guessing this, in his own motion sure. But last, the rebel tongue when loosened, rumor frees- and soon words whirl like rockets: the quickest of the three. . . .i couldn`t resist this workshop... I absolutely looove playing with sonics! I know you asked for simple assonance but I found I couldn`t resist some consonance and alliteration, too... . Thanks~ Amaryllis [This message has been edited by Amaryllis (11-22-2010 09:51 PM).] |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
assonanance, consonance, alliteration...you certainly have them all, miss! Not only that, I love what the poem says, the truth behind the humor. Beautifully done.... |
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AlCowie Member
since 2011-05-13
Posts 92London, UK |
Nonsense Assonance... By my houses front door, sat just there on the floor, was a member of the local poor He had been born on a cold Sunday morn whilst his father watched internet porn He only ate pork, and when given some chalk, wrote his name as Billy O'Rourke When he was only short, he used to cavort as a king on the old Roman fort And come rain or come storm his old ripped uniform, kept the old boy alive, kept him warm But one day our senyor, he stood up from the door, and decided to try Ecuador Where he opened a forge in a dried up old gorge and bizarrely renamed himself George He'd walk round his fiord with a battered old sword and an Argentine made harpsichord And he taught himself morse and bought a white horse, on whom he'd perform inter...national eventing, or something like that... |
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AlCowie Member
since 2011-05-13
Posts 92London, UK |
Wasn't happy with the previous draft, so have tried again, with double assonance at the end of each stanza (get me, starting to get the old lingo!) Still not happy with the second line, suggestions on a postcard! By my house's front door, sat just there on the floor, Was a member of the local poor. He had been born on a cold Sunday morn Whilst his father watched internet porn, He only ate pork, and when given some chalk, Wrote his name as Corkey O'Rourke. When he was only short, he used to cavort As a king on the old Roman fort, And come rain or come storm his old ripped uniform, Kept the old boy alive, kept him warm. But one day our señor, he stood up from the door, And decamped to explore Ecuador, Where he opened a forge in a dried up old gorge And bizarrely renamed himself George. He'd walk round his fjord with a battered old sword And an Argentine made harpsichord, And he taught himself Morse and bought a white horse, On whom he'd perform inter...national eventing, or something like that... |
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