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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Related quotes
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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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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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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The Rhythm (feat. Ice-T, Donald D & Diva)
The rythm is both the songs manicle and it's demonic charge charge
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
I'm Everlast born to be a caucassion but it makes no difference what persuasion you are
As long as you know how to get up on the floor and start workin' a sweat
To a musical measure that makes you move as soon as the needle drops into the groove
So get up and dance to the gift I'm giving, forget about your troubles get into the rhythm
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Yo, yo, you know what the world needs...we need peace, rhythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
You linger for the rap singer, when Donald D brings the party to the deal my presence is felt world wide
You don't dance to this it's suicide
Put your hands into the air on, the M.C. cop, the girlies are pipen' hot
Natorious Lama is how I'm livin' don't step to me step to the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
You make me feel so good
Like I said before the world needs a lot more rhythm
Talking 'bout the rhythm
Talking 'bout the rhythm
Talking 'bout the rhythm
Talking 'bout the rhythm
Talking 'bout the rhythm
Listen to the tracks that rolls, watch the mic as it glows
The lethal weapon got you trapped in this dance mode
Ice-T's throwin' words at you like dodge ball y'all
You gotta move get hit, if you get hit, you fall, no jokin', no boastin' and no bragging
Grip the mic like a .44 magnum, dust you off if you suck 'cause I ain't
You want me to write soft rhyme's, sorry, I write the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
(Talking 'bout) the rhythm
We need rhythm for the world to have peace and unity, we must first have rhythm
song performed by by Everlast
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Time To Time
From time to time,
the breeze sings
silently, peacefully and harmoniously
Behind the rhythm of excited raindrops
on tarnished aluminum rooftops
and as I listen, metaphors of you,
travel before my eyes,
each one bouncing off the other,
in a kaleidoscope of moments.
Sometimes the breeze recollects our memories
and as I listen, from time to time, I blush,
I love you too
poem by Nikhil Chandwani
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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
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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.
422
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
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I love you too
The breeze is singing,
silently and pleasingly
Behind the rhythm of impatient raindrops.
On a tarnished metallic rooftops.
And as I listen, metaphors of you
spiral ahead of my eyes,
each one bouncing off the new,
in a kaleidoscope of recollections.
From time to time the breeze sings your distant heart
and I listen, and sometimes, I whisper
I love you too.
poem by Nikhil Chandwani
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Let's Leave The 'Poems' Without Metaphors
LET’S LEAVE THE ‘POEMS’ WITHOUT METAPHORS
Let’s leave the ‘poems’ without metaphors
Bare and stark and original
Quiet and sleeping and still
The soothing poems the calming poems
The poems that even in the middle of the night
Let us sleep.
Let’s leave the poems without metaphors
And go back to the simple words
And let them say all they can by themselves
Until they become metaphors too.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Listen To The Rain
(Rain)
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen listen
Listen to each drop of rain (listen listen)
Aaah
Whispering secrets in rain (listen listen)
Aaah
Frantically searching for someone to hear
That story be more than it hides
Please don't let go
Can't we stay for a while?
It's just to hard to say goodbye
Listen to the rain
Aa...ah
Listen listen listen listen listen listen to the rain
Weeping
Oo...ooh oooh ooh oo...ooh
Oo...ooh oooh oh oh
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen
I stand alone in the storm (listen listen)
Suddenly sweet words take hold
(Listen listen)
Hurry they stay for you haven't much time
Open your eyes to the love around you
You can feel youre alone
But I'm here still with you
You can do what you dream
Just remember to listen to the rain
oo...ooh oh oh oh oh
ooh ooh oh oh oooh
Listen
song performed by by Evanescence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tomas did not realize at the time that metaphors are dangerous. Metaphors are not to be trifled with. A single metaphor can give birth to love.
Milan Kundera in The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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 Wait For Better Metaphors
let go that patience
waiting for a load of metaphors
to make your poem
for today, you end up poor
with no poem to share,
are you conscious about what the lords, the gods, will say?
about your creations?
the beauty that you must exude to please these lords, these gods?
they, who left you here, they who do not feed you
crumbs, left-overs,
they, who live in the clouds, who feast among themselves
and look down upon you
as mediocre crab
running to catch the ebb and
tide of the sea,
you write, because you do not rhyme
because you cannot count
the beat of your aching heart
you write, because your mind is blank
blacked-out,
look at you,
you do not look like any human being at all?
you fear
losing your poetic sense?
damn, write, do not pray for metaphors
do not crack your head for images,
do not pray for the gods and lords
they too have problems of their own
mindless,
senseless,
quarelling among themselves on some crowded skies,
your stay is short
there is no specific duration of your stay
write and write, let them have their own shame
life has no rhyme
in fact, senseless,
why pretend you rhyme? why pretend you make sense at all?
you are never god in the first place,
you are the quiver of this universe, the hum that numbs
why bother?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Inanities...
every rose has its
dawn
and every night
has its thorn
not every buffalo has
its mud and grass
not every mud has its
own water or rain
figure it yourself
all these misplaced thoughts
disturbing ideas
illogical metaphors
absurd world
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Poet's Plight
I have here my pen and pad
And now I plan to prove my genius
If I can only get this stupid pen to work
I will use mesmerizing metaphors
And beyond brilliant similes
I will compare things never compared before
I will give words new meanings
If I can only get this stupid pen to work
I will stitch my story one scene at a time
Decoratively divulging distinct memories
I will quaintly quilt what is on my mind
Even reluctantly memorializing past misery
If I can only get this stupid pen to work
I will tell tales never told before
In ways no one has ever heard before
I will leave my listener wanting more
Each stanza sending them through another door
If I can only get this stupid pen to work
I will cunningly construct a new poetic form
Into which rhythm and rhyme will swarm
Into which even prominent poets will storm
For it will transcend traditional norms
If I can only get this stupid pen to write!
Ugh! I give up! !
This is a despairing dilemma I have disdainfully endured
A wicked war waged against me without forewarning
This
Is another example
Of a Poet's
Plight
poem by Portia Lane
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Song With No Name
Cant sleep, trying hard to find a rhyme
Cant work, I am tired all the time
Cant eat, since my appetite has gone
Cant think, when it started to go wrong
Cant move, Ive no energy at all
Cant see, any end to this in sight
Last week, I could do all of those things
But now, I am just the man who sings
Ive searched around for years and years
Ive drank in bars, destroyed careers
Sold on a need to be famous
Ive seen the good in men survive
Only to fail when I arrive
Convincing them I am blameless
I was the man with future sight
I would change fortunes overnight
Knowing for me it was painless
Cant sleep, trying hard to find a rhyme
Cant work, I am tired all the time
Cant eat, since my appetite has gone
Cant think, when it started to go wrong
Cant move, Ive no energy at all
Cant see, any end to this in sight
Last week, I could do all of those things
But now, I am just the man who sings
One day in april 10.15
Awakened screaming by a dream
Something that touched me was burning
A diamond pin fell from my eye
Then something strange began to cry
Your will can stop this world turning
Since then Ive fought more than I should
Against the will that I withstood
Hoping I could be its master
But now the dream is all I see
There is no hope of breaking free
One song away from disaster
Cant sleep, trying hard to find a rhyme
Cant work, I am tired all the time
Cant eat, since my appetite has gone
Cant think, when it started to go wrong
Cant move, Ive no energy at all
Cant see, any end to this in sight
Last week, I could do all of those things
But now, I am just the man who sings
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beautiful Blue Danube
They drift down the hall together;
He smiles in her lifted eyes.
Like waves of that mighty river
The strains of the ‘Danube’ rise.
They float on its rhythmic measure,
Like leaves on a summer stream;
And here, in this scene of pleasure,
I bury my sweet dead dream.
Through the cloud of her dusky tresses,
Like a star, shines out her face;
And the form of his strong arm presses
Is sylph-like in its grace.
As a leaf on the bounding river
Is lost in the seething sea,
I know that for ever and ever
My dream is lost to me.
And still the viols are playing
That grand old wordless rhyme;
And still those two are swaying
In perfect tune and time.
If the great bassoons that mutter,
If the clarinets that blow,
Were given the chance to utter
The secret things they know.
Would the lists of the slain who slumber
On the Danube’s battle-plains
The unknown hosts outnumber
Who die ‘neath the ‘Danube’s’ strains?
Those fall where the cannons rattle,
‘Mid the rain of shot and shell;
But these, in a fiercer battle,
Find death in the music’s swell.
With the river’s roar of passion
Is blended the dying groan;
But here, in the halls of fashion,
Hearts break, and make no moan.
And the music, swelling and sweeping,
Like the river, knows it all;
But none are counting or keeping
The lists of those who fall.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Butterfly Rhyme
Time to try, time to fly, time to look at the world through a fly.
All love grows for all but the butterfly rhyme.
It's time to try, time to fly for you need the self-impulse controlled.
Love the winter, love the time
Moving through time,
We are all inside the sign they keep intwined around their finger.
Striving for perfection through the winding tide of contraption.
The flowing tide going through the entire mind
In the butterfly rhyme
poem by Brenos Spider
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A poem with the perfect rhyme
If a poem could cost a dime
I will spend my ink and spend my time
Making the perfect rhyme
More than a million people may read it
Even if I have to sell it on credit
I will be the businesswoman with wit
Sit down! Think about it!
A penny for the perfect sentence
A penny for a poem glaring with essence
A penny for writing about the present and past tense
A penny for describing a situation that is intense
A penny if I write truthfully without pretence
As I turn away from crime
Making the perfect rhyme
If a poem could cost a pound
I will turn my life around
As I compose the perfect poetic sound
That rhymes against any background
My words will be sublime
Not just the perfect rhyme
They will be read both at teatime and during bedtime
My sentences will mature in their prime with time
As I turn away from crime
Making the perfect rhyme
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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