I Am Tired Of The Rhyme I Am Tired Of The Rhyme
i am tired of the rhyme
and rhyme just to rhyme with you
at the expense of my thoughts
at the loss of my spirit
at the defeat of my spontaneity
my streams flowing and stopping looking for the proper word that sounds
like the previous word
until i am drowned by the rage and upsurge of my emotions
just let me be myself
let me flow like a river without the banks restraining me
in the canalization of my dreams
i will be nothing
but a line
parallel
to yours and they do not really look and sound right
i am afraid to say i am sorry
i will not be beautiful with you
i will be beautiful alone so alone in my own solitude.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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i am tired of the rhyme
and rhyme just to rhyme with you
at the expense of my thoughts
at the loss of my spirit
at the defeat of my spontaniety
my streams flowing and stopping looking for the proper word that sounds
like the previous word
until i am drowned by the rage and upsurge of my emotions
just let me be myself
let me flow like a river without the banks restraining me
in the canalization of my dreams
i will be nothing
but a line
parallel
to yours and they do not really look and sound right
i am afraid to say i am sorry
i will not be beautiful with you
i will be beautiful alone so alone in my own peaceful solitude.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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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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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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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Wasting My Time
And if i'm wasting my time
then nothing could be better
than hanging on the line
and waiting for an honest word forever
And if you're saying goodbye
please don't you think me bitter
for recalling every rhyme
from the book the page
the line the word the letter
Well the windows turning blue
and the waters ever flowing
and i hope i'm not a fool
for laughing at myself
as you are going
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Rhyme?
I wonder now and again
whether or not
my poems should rhyme
if they should have a rhythmic
pentameter that catches the readers
like small fish out by the moonlit lake
where they jump for joy
when the humans have gone
For the world is filled of rhyme
as we whittle down our time
we spend it all down on this earth
the flesh decays and brings new birth
But then I realize
to rhyme is not my style
for at times, I feel that
more so than a line
the rhyme is a trap
more of a bear than a mouse
and I wonder if with my first couplet
where there begins a sort of catchy scheme
the readers bob their head to
-dah dah dah dah dah dah dah
and then they realize
that I've lost most of my flare
for my expression has been limited
by this beautiful
yet altogether mortal language
so with that
I continue to roll my tongue
as my fingers clatter on the keyboard
and I tell you stories
instead of singing you songs
poem by Jorge Garcia
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To ----, With A Rose
I asked my heart to say
Some word whose worth my love's devoir might pay
Upon my Lady's natal day.
Then said my heart to me:
`Learn from the rhyme that now shall come to thee
What fits thy Love most lovingly.'
This gift that learning shows;
For, as a rhyme unto its rhyme-twin goes,
I send a rose unto a Rose.
poem by Sidney Lanier
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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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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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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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On Being Told That There Is No Rhyme For The Word “Limerick”
After I heard Harry’s limerick,
I found that my mind set to simmer. “Rick, ”
I said to myself,
“One might write it itself, ”
But I answered, “You’re chances are slimmer, Rick! ”
So I can’t find a good rhyme for Limerick.
Told myself, “ You are just a beginner, Rick
And though there’s no reason
You can’t write something decent,
I fancy your chances get grimmer, Rick! ”
He said that it might rhyme with turmeric
But I thought, “You’re not that fast a learner, Rick:
Ditch your thoughts wasting time
Finding suitable rhyme;
Let your plans, man, stand on the back burner, Rick.”
But the cogwheels had started to turn a bit
As I guessed I had started to learn a bit
And I might find a line
That rhymes Limerick fine
And might win me a prize, so I earn a bit.
But I thought, “Though there was just a glimmer, Rick.
You will think till you’re needing a zimmer, Rick,
Since the muse isn’t kind,
I am sure you’ll will find
Not a word that will rhyme fine with Limerick.”
poem by C. Richard Miles
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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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That Word That Smells
I've found a reason not to rhyme.
Or open a door to flowing prose.
I suppose I am not feeling poetic today.
Nor especially free of speech.
Although there is a discipline to write.
Sometimes my mind turns off like a light.
And even though I said,
I've found a reason not to rhyme...
Something 'automatic' within me resists.
Something inside of me refuses to respond,
To my temptations that exist to just say...
It!
You know.
That word that smells when one feels like hell!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Failure Of Rhyme
it i were to speak to you
in rhyme
and well thought of metaphors
it will take me
more time
and i do not have much of it
and i cannot possibly tell you
what i have within
completely
i have no dream of perfection
there is no such things as us
as perfect as a cup or a ring
and we will be at a loss at the end
not having said
what should have been stated so clearly
and spontaneously
as river and rain
or as dew on a leaf of grass
early dawn
when metaphors fail
when rhythm and rhyme stand aloof
along the boulevard without rails
the streams of our consciousness is always there
to save us
willing to adopt us in the form of a sacrifice
i am here now and
i am talking to myself
and since you are here not to listen
i reserve this
space for you for the future
for time that does not die
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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A Poem Does Not Have to Rhyme
There are those who think in order for a poem to have rhythm it must rhyme, but a poem does not have to rhyme to have rhythm.
The rhythm comes for the poet’s soul not the rhyming of words.
The rhythm is in emotions that the poet’s poem evokes.
From a soulful cry to feeling of love and from the passion of hate to the awakening of understanding this is the beat, the rhythm of a poem. Now don’t get me wrong if a poem rhyme and has soul it is cool too, but I just wanted everyone to know that a poem does not have to rhyme.
Stop Is Such A Taboo In The World Of Inspiration
in the world of inspiration where
the fireworks come like an everyday feast
in the world of colors like dusk and twilight
and summer nights and auroras of the stars
and the silvery moon sliding on the shiny river,
the word 'stop' is a taboo, for in the world of imagination
where everything comes and goes
like the snap of a finger or the blink of an eye
the world is a long, and wide, and winding river
without banks and ends
with a mouth always opening to the sea beyond this horizon
where everything that floats and swims along with it
is taken and made a part of the beautiful world
of sights and sounds
and space and sense
in my world there is only the ceaseless flow of freedom
of thought, no one stops me
i may rest for a while and take a look at something that catches
my attention like the burst of red oranges in the sky
and too,
like that creature
that person that takes a mutual look
once in a while, a pause,
a comma, a hyphen
but then, i am back to the world of the river
the world of clauses and dashes,
flowing, floating, flowering
forever flowing, unstopping, unceasing, always going and going
and on and on and on, to the flowing waters of the soul.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Keep Writing
We share thoughts, and ideas, and hopes, and fears
And dreams of nightmares that ask why we're here
The anger and rage that we cannot ignore
Rampages on pages no one can deplore
Our longings for belonging to someone special
While we try to figure out a good rhyme for special
Choosing one word for another, and which goes first
We inspire our humanity, until it knows no thirst
From the hearts and the minds of the young and the old
There is no normalcy, no conventional code
Our pens flow freely as space is black
Experience makes trusty keyboards 'click-clack'
Imagination colors images on every line
Scribbled in a moment or trapped in time
To all who may read this, I ask just one thing
Write what you want, just write something
It may not reach the entire world, or a newsstand
But no one can tell your story, quite like you can
poem by P.R. Prosper
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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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