An attempt to rhyme
i am so sorry for you Johnny Doe
but i cannot rhyme for you
i have been in all these
What a pretty mess!
Life does not really Rhyme
Time mistaken for Thyme
Nothing really jibes
That's why we have tribes
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Rhyme
Poets rhyme from time to time
They don’t find rhyme a crime
It’s no sin, their using rhyme
Inspired rhyme is so sublime
Can often form a perfect line
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Rhyme
This is a rhyme I rhyme
And made rhyme
'Cause with you I like to rhyme
I want to give my best
Before I go to rest
poem by Efe Benjamin
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My Rhyming Poem
I am 55 and a little crazy,
If I stand up to fast things become a little hazy.
I need another line,
I am really in a bind.
So early in my rhyme,
I've really messed up this time.
Hey this is kinda fun,
Reminds me of good old days in the sun.
This time I have really lost my wits,
Man this surly is the pits.
Some day I'll get this down,
Or Saint will take me to the pound.
With blue juice he'll say,
Baby you just couldn’t rhyme so this is your day,
The day I do this often,
Is the day I lay in my coffin.
I hope all of this rhyme’s,
Because GOD knows I have tried 100 times.
I think I might have been a tard,
My first rhyming poem really wasn’t that hard.
(this goes to all my friends and readers on here to show you I really cant rhyme but this was fun maybe I will do it again I said maybe Saint Maybe lol... I Love you guys)
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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0026 Why Waste Time
Why waste time
on searching rhyme
unless the knowledge wants to sing?
why waste time
on searching rhyme
unless the joy can’t help but dance?
why waste time
on searching rhyme
unless the mind is full of sound?
then rhyme with time
and sing and dance
and lose your heart
to happenstance.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Woman Of Rhyme
She is not what you'd call beautiful though still in her prime
And to those who know her she is known as The Woman of Rhyme
In Local Literary circles not even one of note
As she does not fit the bill of the Modern Poet.
But the rhyme from her gushes and it races along
And in five minutes flat she can pen you a song
And though not classified as a poet her verse is not doggerel
And with her gift of rhyme one might say she does well.
Some fifty years ago she would have known fame
And her's would have been a great Literary name
But rhyme it would seem has passed it's use by date
And what's now seen as old fashioned was once seen as great.
Even the best of the Local modern poets seem strangers to renown
But then such is life in a football mad Town
In the pubs the names of famed poets and artists they never recall
Their small talk mostly of sports, footballers and football.
For what she is good at she is not recognized
But having said that I am not really surprised
since rhyme verse has long passed it's glorious time
And none to applaud the young Woman of Rhyme.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Line By Line
Writing line by line
Can i capture the truth in rhyme
You tell me okay its fine
Whats fine my writings or the rhymes
Have you read enough this time
Rhyme line rhyme
Am i wasting my time
Do i even comprehend
The thoughts the static static
Inside my head
I send a piece to a friend
Or are they scared to offend
I need to know if its rubbish
Putting it out there to be published
Rhyme line verse
Do you speak the truth or were you coerced
So im taking you at your word
You have listened you heard
Line by line
Rhyme by rhyme
Can i be convicted of poetry crimes
For writing dribble
About nothing as long as it rhymes
Well thank you my friend
Here is another i am about to send
Read it and read it again
Maybe you can send on to a friend
Okay time to go
I have more pieces of dribble you know
A Journey Through Time
A journey through time
Which in life's rhyme
Everyone has to take
For his survival sake
Is full of joy and smile
Even in trouble's pile
But to see this life's ease
We must look for peace
And see how life; s way
Can be travelled with fay
And how we can enjoy
With love, care and joy
So the best thing to do
Is to look at rainbow hue
And then in this life's rhyme
Start journey through time.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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The Rhyming Flu
It’s 1: 15 A.M.
I’m sitting here in bed;
I want to go to sleep,
But rhymes are in my head.
I just came upstairs;
I was just on the com,
Working out a poem;
For Ainaa to recite in the morn.
The problem with rhyme and I;
Is that it starts and never stops,
Remember it’s one o’clock;
But rhymes still pulse my thoughts.
So I’m writing this very rhyme;
Hoping my rhyme runs out,
But such a hope’s impossible;
When my rhymes are as abundant as trout.
I know what you all are thinking:
“This rhyme is simply a gimmick;
This boy’s not really sleepy,
He’s wide awake with this limerick.”
“This story of sleep is really;
Just some tricky plot,
To make you think he flows out rhyme;
Like water from a cracked pot.”
But, nay, it is true;
I’ve got the rhyming flu,
I’m hoping that by writing this rhyme;
All my rhymes shall be through.
Aha, I know the cure;
The medicine’s no longer obscure!
To end this awful rhyme;
I need a word that does NOT rhyme!
I’ve heard of the word before;
It’s like English’s Achilles heel,
No matter how hard you rhyme;
Its un-rhyming-ness is an iron veil.
Touché now rhyming flu;
This word I give to you!
Try rhyming the word ‘month’
…Ha-ha, you can’t now, can you! ?
The rhyming flu has left me…
I can feel it leaving my mind…
Ahhh… I am so relieved…
The clock says it’s now sleepy time...
…zZzZZZ
poem by Warren Chan
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In A Simple Rhyme
Well, back in the past when I was treated so coldly,
My love life was a darn disgrace.
Needed someone to love and hold me.
Thats one of the reasons that I was out of place.
So this is love! well, she finally kissed me.
Had me all worked up inside.
I was in love, but cupid missed me.
She up and left, and I almost died.
But I was young and I was far from lonely.
I been that way for a long, long year.
Needed a girl to call my one and only.
Is that you?
You think you got the intrest.
Cmon and take the time.
cause you know I wanna be
Yours in a simple rhyme.
Well, aint life grand when you finally hit it?
Im always a sucker for a real good time.
Woke up in life to find I almost missed it.
Aint I glad that love is blind?
But I was young and I was far too crazy.
Been that way for a long, long time.
Needed a girl, but I was just too lazy.
Now that Ive found you:
You think you got the intrest.
Cmon and take the time.
Im gonna be
Yours in a simple
Rhyme,
Rhyme.
She made her mountains sing.
Birds against an icy sky.
And I heard bells ringin
I think I heard an angel sigh. and she said:
Therell be times,
There will be times
Youre gonna hear the angels singin
Ah.
Ah.
Ah.
You think you got the intrest.
Cmon and take the time.
Im gonna be
Yours in a simple
Rhyme,
Rhyme,
Rhyme.
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Magical Spring Time
Spring time, Oh spring time
Where flows life's rhyme
Tulips, daffodils and other flowers
Showing us all God's power
Gardens are full of flowers and weeds
Its time to sprout the magical seeds
That makes this world's show
And for that we all to God owe
A special thanks in life's rhyme
For sending His lovely spring time
Rainbow appears just after rain
Clear sky all brings us fain
Puddles, splashes and melting dew
Are lovely and magnificant views
Where rain drops come to the earth
To bring us happiness and mirth
And welcome us on this journey of life
Where we are all bound to survive
Spring time, oh spring time
Where flows life's rhyme
Where we are all on board
Ready with zest and packed for the road
And learn to here discover treasure
That no one can ever imagine or measure
And there just leave your heart's door ajar
And let your wings fly you afar
And let you enjoy the light that shines
And spread in life the happiness wine
For here comes the magical spring time
Where flows life's joyful rhyme.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Replacing Hackneyed Tradition Rhymes
slant rhyme
half rhyme
imperfect rhyme
deliberately
concentrated
on that style
on the themes
in work early
instead
of hackneyed
tradition
rhymes
detracting
subtle
or impact
concepts?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Magical Spring Time
Spring time, Oh spring time
Where flows life's rhyme
Tulips, daffodils and other flowers
Showing us all God's power
Gardens are full of flowers and weeds
Its time to sprout the magical seeds
That makes this world's show
And for that we all to God owe
A special thanks in life's rhyme
For sending His lovely spring time
Rainbow appears just after rain
Clear sky all brings us fain
Puddles, splashes and melting dew
Are lovely and magnificant views
Where rain drops come to the earth
To bring us happiness and mirth
And welcome us on this journey of life
Where we are all bound to survive
Spring time, oh spring time
Where flows life's rhyme
Where we are all on board
Ready with zest and packed for the road
And learn to here discover treasure
That no one can ever imagine or measure
And there just leave your heart's door ajar
And let your wings fly you afar
And let you enjoy the light that shines
And spread in life the happiness wine
For here comes the magical spring time
Where flows life's joyful rhyme.
7th April,2009
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Sonnet- Sonnet Needs Rhymes
Can you a Sonnet write without its rhyme?
Now people want the modern verse that's free;
As ideas get stuck and cramped with time,
A Sonnet's like leafless branches of tree!
A Sonnet's great for men who rhyme too well;
Its beauty lives in metre, rhythm, rhyme;
Yet, it can never run into 'pel-mel';
The sonneteer can write in any clime.
Why abhor rhymes and not a Sonnet write?
Each genre has its rules to comply with;
Why sleep all day and stay awake all night?
Rhyme-play is done by Kindergarden kith!
Why ridicule something you can't do well,
Much things are done by practice, Sonnets tell.
poem by John Celes
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If You Look For A Rhyme, So Sorry I Don't Have It
i don't jam and i don't rhyme
my life does not rhyme
and some parts simply
do not fit
until now
like a dovetail
of wooden pieces
to make
your chair
so sorry but i don't have
rhyme
it is the truth
it is the truth of this world
some things do not fit
some people do not just fit
square pegs in a round hole
square lives in a round dimension
it is the truth of this world
fingers in the hands
toes in your feet
look at them as a family of your
unique body
i like to rhyme i like to jibe with you
and sing the harmony of
our song
the truth is
there isn't
and so my dear, let us look at each other's eyes
again
can you do it without blinking?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It's Tricky
This beat is my recital
I think it's very vital
To rock a rhyme
That's right on time
It's tricky tricky yo here we go
It's tricky to rock a rhyme
To rock a rhyme that's right on time
It's tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky
It's tricky to rock a rhyme
To rock a rhyme that's right on time
It's tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky
I met this little girlie
song performed by by Bloodhound Gang from One Fierce Beer Coaster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Moderns
To many reading modern poetry more interesting the meaning in the metaphors they seek to find
They feel it makes their brains work that much harder that it is good exercise for the mind
Rhyme for their great brains seems that bit too simple it does not test their thinking power at all
'Tis not a poem to them if it seems simple and the meaning in it easy to recall,
Yes rhyme for them it does seem that bit simple and deciphering it to them is not a test
The hidden meaning in the metaphors is something that does seem to try them best
Rhyme poetry to them is too simple and far too easy for to understand
It has to be blank verse with dozens of metaphors for their interest for to command
They look on rhyme and bush poets as inferior their preference in poets and poetry they make known
On literature they air their opinions like it is said to each their own
Their poetry evenings do seem quite exclusive rhyme poets to read they never do invite
Their unmusical lines that are laced with metaphors to each other they do recite
They do not like rhyme or they do not like bush poetry to them it is of another time
And in their poetry evenings there is no place for the men and the women of rhyme.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I don't like Lines that Rhyme
In my lines
They all think
I rhyme,
But I cry.
I cry
For lost
Of my right.
In my mind
I know I don't
Like lines
That rhyme.
All I know
I'm not afraid
To die
For my right,
Cause if today
I die
Tomorrow
I shall rise.
With Christ
I shall fly.
As was profesied.
Tho' I don't like
To write
And my
Lines
Don't rhyme
But my love for
You is no lie.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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In Green Melted Yellows
it was in green melted yellows
amid branches of rhyme,
hidden leaves of moisture
at the dryest of times
where i first let unspoken lips,
speak for the mind.
in green melted yellows
betwixt with bananas and thyme
and old dying man sighed
'love itself cannot rhyme'
though it echoes down ages of pages,
shadows and scenes
honeygrass lemons, and
aqua sunbeams.
it was wrapped in green melted yellows
where i then understood;
the beauty of two lovers drowning
over one alone and afloat.
poem by Eddie Frelford
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The Old Rhyming Poet
In his early eighties his best days long gone
But the gray haired old poet he keeps penning on
Though many see him as of another time
Sixty years as a poet and still writing in rhyme.
Though not seen as a mentor to the young poets of the town
He once was the Regional Poet Laureate and he knew of renown
When rhyme it was popular a long time ago
And his hair was as dark as the wing of a crow.
Not hard to tell he's known a far better day
The old rhyming poet that the years have left gray
It has been more than five decades since he was in his prime
Eventually we all become victims of time.
In time as in life few things do seem to last
And verses that rhyme are now seen as of the past
But to him to stop writing would be living a lie
And he will be a poet till the day that he die.
poem by Francis Duggan
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