Free Verse or Prose
Sadly, to me
This thing they call Prose
Is naught but just talk,
And often verbose;
I think it's too easy
And honestly, I'm
Just wanting to say
I much prefer rhyme.
And almost the same is the
Form called Free Verse,
It isn't for me, I'm not keen,
And what's worse:
Explaining the differences
Should be a breeze,
But even amongst the 'experts'
No one agrees.
Now I'm no academic
But I won't be fooled
By the 'cleverer' people,
By the so-called, 'well-schooled';
I favour good rhyming
O'er Free Verse or Prose,
And I'm calling to mind now
The Emperor's New Clothes.
poem by John Carter Brown
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Related quotes
Song Of A Rhyming Man
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
This modern verse too much for me it's way above my head
Though modern poets are now the rage and Rhyme is with the dead.
I love the sound of rhyming words, I love the verse that rhyme
To blank or free or non rhyme verse prefer it every time
And there's many who will disagree and most will say I'm wrong
But give me ballad or rhyme verse or good old rhyming song.
You may say I am limited and with you most will agree
That I'm not into modern verse of twenty first century
But I've been an old style rhyming man since nineteen seventy three
And I am in my sixties now and there's no changing me.
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
And I am guilty of no sin and I can't see no crime
In liking sound of rhyming verse and loving words that rhyme
poem by Francis Duggan
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A matter of opinion.
Some people say I am perverse
because I choose to write in verse.
The kind of stories I compose.
They think I ought to write in prose.
They have the right to I suppose.
But I won’t do as they propose.
I much prefer to write in verse
Because I think there’s nothing worse
Than badly written boring prose.
That is the reason why I chose.
To concentrate on rhyming verse.
I see no reason to reverse.
My original decision
to conform to your opinion.
I do not choose to write in prose
I am convinced that I would lose.
My rhyming capability
reducing my ability.
To write my words spontaneously.
I don’t expect you to agree.
Although I am compelled to write.
You’re free to exercise your right
To read or not as you choose to.
Though I confess I hope you do.
I know I can’t please everyone.
That is something that can’t be done
By any writer though they try
A truth no writer can deny.
Your comments are of interest
they spur me on to do my best.
We can agree to disagree
on which is best quite easily.
A poet must choose poetry.
But other writers are quite free.
to share their thoughts written in prose
Because they choose to I suppose.
If you should doubt my competence.
I will not choose to take offence.
You are entitled to your view
Please remember I am too
Sunday,02 May 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Two schools of thought.
.
The lady chose to take offence
Although I said she wrote fine prose
She may not know the difference
between poetry and prose
She thought that she wrote poetry
But what she wrote was free form prose.
I offered no apology
It was not my fault that she chose.
Not to learn the basic rules
defining prose and poetry
Two very different writing schools
in which to show your artistry.
The so called experts can’t agree
and coined the term poetic prose.
Though writing cannot possible
be classed as poetry and prose.
If it’s not metered it is prose
no matter how poetical.
But you’re entitled to compose.
Fine prose and call it poetry.
Though I suggest respectfully
you should be proud of writing prose.
As some do most successfully.
But it was poetry I chose
Thursday,11 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Poet's Thirst
Why do I thirst to pen a verse?
Would prose not do as well?
The rhyme is music to my ears
and the lyrical swell
can never be found in prose
and so I say to those.
'Write your story in novel form
or fictionalize your book.
I will pen my verse instead
and capture you with my hook.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Totally Biased
I do not often write free form
to me it is not poetry.
Freely admit my prejudice
I think it’s just a passing phase
Although I can appreciate
poetic and well written prose
This does not make it poetry
When I consult my dictionary
it makes it very clear to me.
All writing must be one of those
It can’t be both at he same time.
Prose poetry cannot exist
an obvious oxymoron
Though modern writer still insist
that what they write is poetry
.It may be really beautiful
and well presented on the page
but definitely not poetry.
Why can they not be satisfied
with their well written thoughts in prose.
Why do they call it poetry
a dandelions not a rose.
Its meter defines poetry
it doesn’t even need to rhyme.
Even free verse had its rules
but writers seem to think today
There are no rules anything goes.
I nail my colours to the mast
Not afraid to let my bias show.
31-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Most Of The So Called Literary Experts
Most of the so called literary experts are dismissive of rhyme
They say 'tis the poetry of a long gone time
Yet the poets that they laud the poems they do write
Cannot be put to music and are hard to read and recite
The rhymer of today is not looked on as a poet
Or is not seen as one worthy of literary note
By the so called literary experts with literary degrees
Though their judgement on what is or is not poetry not everyone does please
They never will convince the old style rhyme buff
To him or her well written rhyme is not throw away stuff
In well written rhyme are the words to a song
And good rhyming poetry to music belong
Yet the degreed literary experts who on poetry like to have their say
Dismiss rhyming poets and their poetry as of yesterday.
poem by Francis Duggan
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There once was a poet called Brown
Who liked getting his ideas down
At rhyme he was Swell
Which is just as well
As free form and prose made him frown
quote by by Stevie Taite
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Fashions are a passing phase for friend Jon London
I read your words with greatest care
and try to see your point of view
Although sometimes I must declare
I find it difficult to do.
I hesitate to criticise.
Aware the fault may lie with me.
Nor dare I offer you advice.
You might resent it bitterly.
The messages you try to send
to me lack simple clarity
I cannot see what you intend.
It makes no sense at all to me.
Your random thoughts lack coherence
They’re neither poetry nor prose.
An unintended consequence
of fashions changing I suppose.
The way that poetry is taught
in schools and colleges today.
They do not know although they ought.
Anything goes is not the way.
Most modern so called poetry
can only be poetic prose
Although it’s written beautifully
Opinions differ I suppose.
I’ll stick to formal poetry
Perhaps I need the discipline
that rhyme and meter gives to me.
And free form verse I will decline.
2-Feb-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Who stands with me?
True poets write in meter.
Not because they think it’s neater
but because the flow is sweeter
When their words are read aloud
as they perform before the crowd.
Their poems pass the acid test.
Prose writers do not choose to rhyme.
They see it as a waste of time.
Although their word choice is sublime.
Without meter it is prose,
not poetry as they suppose.
Their definition I contest.
Poetic prose it’s plain to see.
Can not be classed as poetry.
I can accept you disagree.
I know I have a biased view
I think I am entitled to
Decide which one I like the best.
I choose meter every time
Preferably with lines that rhyme.
I find such poetry sublime.
Though I enjoy well written prose.
Each to his own I must suppose
So write the way that suits you best.
I am old fashioned I admit
and not one whit ashamed of it.
I do not find rules inhibit.
Free expression of my views
They merely mean I have to choose
the words that will express them best
Free form, free verse, poetic prose.
Are methods other writers chose
as being fit for their purpose.
To rebel against fixed form.
Which was regarded as the norm.
Just to be different from the rest.
But fashions change and now free form
Must be regarded as the norm.
I see no reason to conform.
I choose to write my poetry
In the old way that pleases me.
A lonely voice raised in protest.
The wheel of fate will slowly turn
Metered poetry will return
and well deserved plaudits earn.
I hope I live to see the day.
when classic poets can display.
That fixed forms can outshine the rest.
Monday,06 December 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Verse or Prose
A verse written like a prose
Or a prose written like a verse
Is readable without divide
If it has a flow with a thought.
22.07.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What I do say is that I can write verse, and that the writing of verse in strict form is the best possible training for writing good prose.
quote by Philip Pullman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Emphasis - Does Prose Satisfy?
Do rhyme and structure strangle sense,
Or emphasize emotions which
Eclectic rhythms render rich?
Stress reinforces verse, intense
Pleasure may be felt, with scents
Recalled from seasons past. Why stitch
On prose per prose that joy, its switch
So seldom magic supplements.
Excessive style is sterile, whence
Some seem to say that those who ditch
A long tradition feel the itch
To sense in rhyme mime or pretence.
It could be this misrepresents
So much which should be shared, keyed pitch.
Facts dry may well define a rose,
Yet can its scent pour through poor prose?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Poet Goes to the Doctor
'Doctor, doctor! Can't you help me please?
I'm suffering from a dreadful disease,
A rhyming disorder, and what makes it worse,
I can't help speaking or writing in verse! !
These sleepless nights of alliteration
Are causing me such consternation,
The assonance too is making me ill -
Please give me a potion or some kind of pill! ! '
'Calm down, my friend, no need to worry, '
The doctor replied, 'Don't be in a hurry, -
I've got the answer, - a good dose of prose
By the dullest of authors, everyone knows,
Will speedily remedy your inspiration
By giving you TWO YEARS of verbal constipation! !
You can say goodbye to your fluent verse
As your poetry goes from bad to worse,
Don't change your mind and run to your Muse,
She won't grant your prayers, she'll simply refuse! !
Poetry is always a pain in the *rse,
But I promise you your illness will pass,
You'll just be a bore like the rest of us,
Scansion and metre? What an awful fuss! ! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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An Amateur Penner Is All I Can Be
An amateur penner is all I can be and my worth as a rhymer I doubt
But when you tell me there's music in blank verse I wonder what you are on about
I've always thought music has rhythm and rhyme and is married to rhyming song
But of literature and music I am not a judge and maybe I do have it wrong
The music in good rhyming poetry one sense at least that's how it does seem to me
But I'm leaving room for an argument here and some with me may not agree
But that's my opinion make of it what you may we all look at things differently
If we all looked at life in the very same way how dull and boring we would be
Some will tell you a songwriter is not a poet their opinion on that is different to mine
Like some are very happy to welcome the rain and some want the day warm and fine
You tell me that there is music in blank verse though I cannot see it that way
But your opinion on the matter is as good as mine and with me that is quite okay
Oh give me a song that is built of good rhyme that to music is easy to sing
With such I am happy for to sing along and I find it such a joyful thing.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Free Verse
I admire all the aims of Free Verse,
‘tis explicit in all that I do
in shaping the stress to converse
with a rhyme-scheme restricted to two.
That I stay with this number is true, -
a linguistic abuse, maybe worse,
how it weighs and encumbers the view! -
but French art needs its aid, though perverse.
Else the Muse would be dumb to a curse,
for to accent, the lingo’s deaf too, -
though what can one do? All’s averse
to fantasy rhyme calls on cue!
May Free Verse’s aims bring joy unto
the young sparks who chance meanings coerce -
whose mental gymnastics’ fun value
is the fire to inspire hopes they’d nurse.
They’re young colts who green pastures traverse
with gravity worthy their virtue,
though mad they’re superb, and no hearse
they’d inherit! Free Verse tempts! You too?
poem by Paul Verlaine, translated by Jonathan Robin
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Free verse
I want to write always in free verse
In free verse there is no pressure.
I do not want to keep any goal
I really do not want any roll
I also do not want to play any role.
I want to see this earth free from hunger
Free from poverty and I do not want to
keep anybody within an artificial boundary.
I want to write always in free verse
I want to move freely from place to place
To see people in various glaze.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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0338 Just couldn't hack it
A hard writing I had of it;
the words clumsy, the sense banal...
escaping from rhyme isn't easy;
half a lifetime to work up to it
then like skirt length, that's it,
the line's short this season,
and rhyme is, so, like, so last year...
(and must be insincere
if you have to work at it
or even want to)
so there I was in the
midst of getting the
hang of cutting the line at the
best place for the
sense, to avoid the
artificial on the
one hand and the
banal on the
other -the
art that conceals the
art -
and scenting euphony, when suddenly -
a crash - and in there lumbered - 'woodenly'...
I twigged instantly that it wouldn't
go without a struggle;
and called in Suddenly for questioning -
had they some sort of pact in the recesses of my mind -
kissin' cousins, blood brothers, partners in rhyme?
Suddenly denied this vigorously -
never been asked such a question before,
wouldn't want to associate etc.;
a word only used by theatre critics...
So I sighed and threw out my neatly chopped prose,
spontaneity, jokes, and anything goes;
and returned to meaningful old-fashioned verse
so woodenly crafted - well, poets have done worse.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Walked In The Rain
I've been away
High on a breeze
Tasted the salt of the seven blue seas Verse 1
Washed upon shores
Sun in my eyes
Stayed long enough just to say my goodbyes...
I walked in the rain
Wet me through and through
Following rainbows that lead me back to you Chorus
I've always believed
In what I've been told
Where rainbows end there's a pot of gold...
I'll read the stars
Talk to the moon
Stop when I hear somebody playing our tune Verse 2
Any excuse
And you'll see me
Drifting back home to the place I should be...
Some people say
Listen to me
Mostly I find that I disagree Verse 3
They tell me to change
Set myself free
I'm not convinced I don't want to be me
Maybe I'll stay
Maybe I'll go
Maybe I'll stick around I don't know Verse 4
One thing for sure
This I can say
I'm coming back; I've been so far away
song performed by by UB40 from Cover Up
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Liking For Rhyme
My literary tastes have not changed with the passing of time
I have always been one with a liking for rhyme
To rhyme is so easy as some like to say
Though rhymers seem so out of fashion today
But I am a lover of ballad and song
And rhymes with a lilt that just jingle along
I loved reading the old rhyming verse as a boy
Something to this day I do thoroughly enjoy
Some literary dons refer to a rhymer as a doggerel poet
As not anyone worthy of literary note
From the Poets Club with their words rhymers they exclude
For educated people they seem rather rude
But I am a fan of good old rhyming stuff
And for many years now I have been a rhyme buff.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Call for freedom
Call for freedom
~
My hearts talking
I try to drink it away
Silence the voice within
Tired of it repeating your name
~
It would be good for me
If only I could forget you
I’m not calling out for help
I’m calling for freedom
To be free of you
~
I could say this affection
Is undoing my work
Leaving me in an addiction
Just wanting to be with you
~
It would be good for me
If only I could forget you
I’m not calling out for help
I’m calling for freedom
To be free of you
~
You never gave me a look
That I could instantly see
How we may have a future together
I only saw what I wanted to see
~
It would be good for me
If only I could forget you
I’m not calling out for help
I’m calling for freedom
To be free of you
To be free of you
A call to freedom
poem by Matthew Holloway
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