Know Holds Bard
To fix a headlock on a
metaphor, or
clamp a full nelson on a
simile, body slam a weak
double-entendre &
choke the life out of a
forced rhyme. To get a toe hold on a
trochee, apply an
armlock that brings a
cliche to its knees, dropp an elbow on
trite alliteration, or
execute a powerbomb as easily as
coining a phrase. To lay the smackdown on
doggerel, and fling a
timeworn platitude from the ring, bridge
out of a writer's
block, pin
down
that cringing flowery sentiment &
celebrate that
seamless rhyme as the
referee slaps the
mat with that triplet coda &
calls for the bell
fresh and sharp as a sapling sprouting new
looming over your flattened foe
as the oak stands awesome and true.
Poetry and wrestling, each an art
not easily mastered,
like shaping a schooner from fresh-cut wood
or a god from alabaster.
poem by Cretan Maineiac
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
0004 The world has lost the ear for rhyme
The world has lost the ear for rhyme.
It still makes children squirm with pleasure;
and from some witty pens and minds, its fireworks fizz;
so, after all these centuries of rhyme
and all the games of meter, dancing words,
should we now mourn its passing?
Have we lost the music of another world?
Instead, the easy unpretentious discourse,
sober, light, familiar, honest -
the world of daily, homely, shared sharp life,
that's now preferred. Not prose;
much more than 'chopped-up prose' as those may say
who think that poetry should be more visibly hard-earned;
- as if a human life set down in honesty
were not a poem in itself, unwrit;
'prose with enhanced consciousness' it's often now defined;
and consciousness - now that's earned, if you like...
and simile, and imagery, and metaphor - all the repertoire
of glorious poetry - they're all still here
to work their magic; if more played down, now,
unostentatious as T-shirt and jeans;
unostentatious as the beating, bloody heart.
And yet, when years bring tears
and time brings death and dying,
it's time for rhyme, to heal the heart
and charm away the crying.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Crime
I get lost in metaphor,
I'm confused with simile
Or what analogy is for,
Though I try some imagery.
I transgress with my meter
And force with my rhyme,
I guess as a writer
That is my true crime.
'A man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.'
...................................... ..........................July 23,2009 Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Say
Some say that I am doomed and bound for hell
Since I commit the sin of doggerel
That I am guilty of the awful crime
Of tainting poetry's name in slipshod rhyme.
Some say I ought to hang my head in shame
Since I am one who sully poetry's name
And though with them I can't say I disagree
Still have they right to pass judgement on me?
Some say that I can never be a poet
Since doggerel is all I've ever wrote
But they tell me something I already know
As I've realized that many years ago.
Some say that I should put my pen away
But I hope that they will never see that day
For though in me I don't have poetic eye
The writing of doggerel verses I enjoy.
Some say that poetry is for those with brains
And not for one whose job is digging drains
And that poet should at least have literary degree
And graduate from university.
Some say that I am guilty of grave wrong
That I defile the name of verse and song
And that there's a place reserved for me in hell
As punishment for writing doggerel.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ring My Bell
Artist: dj jazzy jeff and the fresh prince
Intro
Yo yo yo yo
Yo yo yo yo
(ring my bell, ring my bell)
Yo yo yo yo
Yo yo yo yo
(ring my bell, ring my bell)
Verse 1
Im just a telephone call away
You can pick it up and call me any day
And ima listen to all you got to say
Cause Im the type of man that never turn a woman away
Think of this as an invitation
Your heart to mine in a conversation
So when things get to much to bare like the jackson 5
Ill be there
Just call me up on the telephone
Call me up when youre all alone
And Ill give you a verbal massage
Until your man gets home
Or if you want to you know what you could do, well
You could always hop in your car and you could come and ring my bell
Chorus
Ring my bell, ring my bell
(ring my bell, ring my bell)
Ring my bell, ring my bell
(ring my bell)
Ri-i-ing!!!
Verse 2
I hate to see you cry, tear after tear while this guy
Plays you like your life is a game
Ive seen his type and there all the same
Breaking your heart without a care
Girl if I was in you shoes hed be outta there
Your man is wak good for nothin but flack
Id tell him to pack and hit the road jack
Who loves ya baby I do you know
He doesnt care about you let him go
Where he at now? you dont know
Layin up under some whole double waste
Just let me chill, no need for me to get ill
Cause yo Im the best and yo time will tell
But Ill be here so ring my bell
Chorus
Verse 3
Now I know this sounds like a fairy tale
But this aint no childrens book
Im here, for you to take me dear
Just open your eyes and look at what the future holds for you
And if you lunch then you might ruin
Something great dont make a big mistake
Pay attention to what youre doing
Life is full of pitfalls, ups and downs
Its sort of a mission
Now youre on a rocky road
But you could get up just make that decision
That you want the one to love adore you and hold you and treat you well
So when youre ready to be treated that way
Baby you can ring my bell
Chorus
(repeat till fade)
song performed by by Will Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Fresh
*Let's listen to this dramatic show which was popular in the early days of radio*
*So fresh*
haha haha uh yeah Jazzy Jeff Fresh Prince and a
Jazzy Jeff Fresh prince and a
Uh little taste of the ol skool
Jazzy Jeff y'all break it down one time say what uh
Uh Uh Uh
One for the treble
Two for the bass
Jazzy Jeff and Fresh Prince back up in ya face
Me and Jeff again "Oh My" you say
1985 till the Y2k
The new millennium
Prophesies I'm fulfilling them
Everywhere I go people be yelling yo that's Will and em
*So fresh*
I check the rhyme like quest
Sat and wrote some dope do do rhymes at my rest
The B I G double U I LL
King of swing and I rock well
The nail in the coffin of the average rapper
Jeff do the ditto of ya average scratcher *fresh*
Stature of a rapper slash actor
Back to the future on wax
The future of rap
Tap like Gregory Hines
Read the headlines
Hip-hop's number one sun still shines
Cause I'm
*So Fresh*
Big Will is
*So fresh*
Jazzy Jeff is
*So fresh*
West Philly is
*So fresh*
Ha ha ha ha
Ladies and Gentlemen Biz Markie
Yes y'allin
To the funky beat en
Every time ya hear me rhyme y'all be freakin
The beat I be makin
Are are o-kay en
Your guaranteed to like me for what I am sayin
To all the sucker emcees that be trying to get the info
Forget the rest cause I'm the best and I'm a nympho
Maniac insaniac I put you in a trance and
If you party with me I'll always give ya dancin
Always keep ya hyper
No matter what type a
Jam
song performed by by Will Smith from Willennium
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where You Want To Be (original Demo Recording)
Hey there stranger
Do you remember?
You were a part of my life
Early December
Think I remember?
Sentiment cuts like a knife
The seasons are changing
Life's rearranging
Full of good times
Would a have beens
Its all your fault
And whereve you been
And how time goes
And though I dont even know
How to fill in the spaces
of the love youve erased in my life
Are you where you wanted to be?
Did you get there easily?
Did I make you sacrifice?
Did you make a sharp left
When you should have turned right?
Are you whereyou wanted to be?
Did you sell off all your gold
Did you trade it in?
Did you wait for love
Or settle for someone to hold?
And barely symphonic
But strangely ironic
Moments contained in one glance
Oh how i adored you
But now im ignored by you
Nowhere a tint of romance
And now its vaguely familiar
i think i remember sharing every single intimacy
It doesnt seem so strange to me that we barely entertained
Even the politest of phrases
But sometimes at night
I conjure you up in my mind
Are you where you wanted to be?
Did you get there easily?
Did i make a sharp left
When you should have turned right?
Are you whereyou wanted to be?
Did you sell off all your gold
Did you trade it in?
Did you wait for love
Or settle for someone to hold?
While I was busy
Perfecting the art
Of deflecting compliments
I took it too far
And i let a ripple run right through my heart
Of battle stations we're building
You and i just grew apart
We grew apart
While i decided
To make everyone else happy
i just put aside
My foolish pride
I guess I denied
My own desire
I was too busy pleasing
To ever be pleased
I forgot how to breathe
Or question anything
Or ask why?
Am I?
Am I where I wanted to be?
Did i get here easily?
Did I make a sacrifice?
Did I take a sharp left
When i should have turned right?
Am I where i wanted to be?
Can i sell of all of my god?
Can I trade it in?
Will I wait for Love
Or settle for somebody to hold
I'd settle for somebody to hold now
You know that ive been up and ive been down
ive been picked up and spun around
id do it all again
if i could just have somebody to hold now
I just need somebody to hold now
Could somebody hold me now?
I just want somebody to hold me now
I'd do it all again
[Thanks to [email protected] for these lyrics]
song performed by by Darren Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Well Crafted Word
Why am I so philosophical, a philosopher a long time ago once wrote.
The song writer, script writer, poet and novelist like to use a great quote.
Some poems are written with a catchy rhyme and a theme.
A well crafted word can help and be a great writers dream.
Everyone knows that the pen is mightier than the sword.
A well crafted word can give the reader great reward.
'A metaphor is just like a simile'; An unknown author once quoted.
It's true about all writers I know, they all hate their words being misquoted.
To writers one and all, a well crafted word is always a must to write down.
Just remember this about all writers, they can make great use of a pronoun.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet Of Our Time
He doesn't like non rhyming poetry ignore what he has to say
About your fashionable writing you are the poet of the day
Your thoughts on paper are as deep as the ocean you are a wise one indeed
You are an emerging writer as a poet you will succeed
Everyone has their opinions no two exactly the same
He doesn't like modern poetry but he has not sullied your name
It only means you are a good writer when others your works criticize
You are a poet of the future you've won a literary prize
At poetry nights you read your verses and always for you there's an encore
You feel so proud and so happy when the audience they beg you for more
People love you for your poetry see you as a poetic great
But not everyone as you know your success will celebrate
He is a man of the fifties he only likes poems that rhyme
So many do love your poetry you are a poet of our time.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet Of Our
He doesn't like non rhyming poetry ignore what he has to say
About your fashionable writing you are the poet of the day
Your thoughts on paper are as deep as the ocean you are a wise one indeed
You are an emerging writer as a poet you will succeed
Everyone has their opinions no two exactly the same
He doesn't like modern poetry but he has not sullied your name
It only means you are a good writer when others your works criticize
You are a poet of the future you've won a literary prize
At poetry nights you read your verses and always for you there's an encore
You feel so proud and so happy when the audience they beg you for more
People love you for your poetry see you as a poetic great
But not everyone as you know your success will celebrate
He is a man of the fifties he only likes poems that rhyme
So many do love your poetry you are a poet of our time.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Check It Out Y'all... (freestyle Rappin')
[Mr. Mixx]
Check it out y'all
Ch-ch-check it out y'all
2 - 2 Live Crew
2 Li - 2 Li - 2 Li - 2 Live Crew
Fresh - Fresh - Fresh Kid Ice
Tre - Treach Dee Jay
Bro - Brother Marquis
Bus - Bust a rhyme
Verse 1: Brother Marquis
Extra extra, hear all the bad news
About the wacky-wack MCs and the ones like you
Because I've done everything that you have tried
And I've been accepted where you've been denied
I'm the M-A-R, the Q-U-I-S
Here to run down a rhyme at your request
I'm the New York born, who's sharp as a thorn
I came here tonight just to get it on
So listen up close and listen up well
Cause the Brother Marquis has a story to tell
This is a story about an MC
Who got real brave and challenged me
He thought that he was bad, he thought he was tough
Until I, what, until I called his bluff
And as the battle began, his rhymes got weaker
You couldn't even hear his voice come out the speaker
And as he started to get ignored
The party people turned and walked off the floor
They did not applaud and they did not cheer
And homeboys just said
song performed by by 2 Live Crew
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Kids On The Block
We know youve heard this beat many, many times
But we bet youve never heard it with such a vicious rhyme
A rhyme with class and plenty of clout
To show you sucher m.c.s what its about
We hear the same stories everywhere we go
Hey, its nynuk who stole the show
So for all you party people who are in a state of shock
Were the new kids on the block!
Chillin on the corner, the first day we arrived
]from the looks of the hoods, we didnt think wed survive
Second day we were there, we were walking down the street
With a rhyme in mind and a funky beat
But when we turned into the alley, to our surprise
We saw a bunch of hoods right before our eyes
They looked us up and down once, twice and again
There must have been a hundred to a hundred and ten
So, I looked over my shoulder right at my friend
He said nice knowing you but this is the end
So we battened down the hatches and prepared to fight
Then all of a sudden I seen the light
The time was right, the time to rock
cause everybody knows, were the new kids on the block.
Were also devistating when were on stage
The fans start screaming and yelling with rage
With mics in hand and rhymes with clout
So watch it sucker mcs or were gonna turn you out
We never talk trash, our rhymes are clean
Our rhymes are never vague and we say nothing obscene
So any sucker mcs who wanna battle us
Can you go at least 20 lines without a cuss?
Cause once we start to jam, youll be in a state of shock
Clear the way party people, were the new kids on the block
Move it sucker mcs or youre gonna feel the wrath
So dont get caught up in the aftermath
Cause were the funky mcs of the hip hop craze
Our rhymes are done by law and are sure to amaze
With a dj cutting records, steady cross bass
Well leave all you party people stuck in a daze
I say were fresh, new and you know its true
Now let me introduce you to the rest of the crew
J, hes fresh. hes the master of mix
There aint no rhyme that he cant fix
Spinsters next, hes the king of the spin
And if you wanna battle, you aint gonna win
Then theres popeye, but we call him joey
The kids so fresh, youll never be bored
Next is jon, whose word is true
But the party people know him as the runner gq
Im dexter p. the wizard of word
Im the greatest mc that youve ever heard
Now that you know were a gang and you know we dont play
Were the new kids on the block and were here to stay
Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhrock!!!
song performed by by New Kids On The Block
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That's It That's All
Back on the scene for ya'll people's delight
You want peace for the people then ya say alright
'Cause George W's got nothing on me
We got to take the power from he
When I'm on the mic I feel good to go
Like a snow day for school with hot cocoa
So don't speak what I heard, just say what I know
And my zodiac sign is Scorpio
Look what the cat dragged in
The creme de la creme without the skin
So take a rest and mind your own biz
And that's it that's all that's all there is
Fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
That's fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
One for Brooklyn, two for Manhattan
Let's go to work, get those hands clappin'
Make you bounce, rock, roll and skate
Don't underrate how I operate
It ain't what you say, it's what you mean
Intention leads to action, that is my theme
So pay attention now as I begin to recap
Puttin' words and ideas stacked back to back
Some rhymes go flat, well mine go fizz
I got no time for the drama 'cause stress is for kids
'Cause when you're dead and buried well you got no biz
And that's it that's all that's all there is
Fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
That's fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
Brand new
The time and place for the mind is here and now
Keep the mind present less to worry about
But like the hammer to the nail hit the nail on the head
Well I don't shoot blanks and I don't shoot lead
Well I'm a freaky streaker like Winnie the Pooh
T-shirt and no pants and I dance the bugaloo
Like George Whipple on New York One
Got a hairy ass and that's no fun
I'm in the rhyme zone a different time zone
And on the microphone you know that I'm at home
It's time we looked past all our differences
An' that's it that's all that's all there is
Come on
Fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
That's fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
An' that's
Fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
That's fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
song performed by by Beastie Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Critique Of Poetry
A poem is a sorry thing,
Not fit for reading to a king:
It’s often full of silly rhymes
That waste a lot of people’s times.
But modern poets can’t rhyme at all,
Which really is abominable;
Their rhythm quickly gets all out of whack,
Because I guess it just seems like for rhythm and rhyme they don’t have the necessary knack.
Phrases created on demand
Which nobody can understand,
Like wool that's thrown across a fence
And stirred until it is quite dense.
Syntax gets twisted out of shape
Not unlike a grinning ape -
Examples which of, I think cannot,
So, yet to learn have I a lot.
Poems do not make much sense
When talking of abstract sentiments
Or waffle philosophical
On subjects what ain’t topical.
A poem can be so abstruse
It makes you feel you’re quite obtuse;
You scratch your head until it’s sore,
And still can’t follow any more.
So poets often write of love,
Usually rhymed with “heaven above”,
Neither of which they know about -
But mostly they are not found out.
And many a poet is a bore
With simile and metaphor
That fill up many an empty line
With silly thoughts like yours and mine.
A simile is like a ball
(Or maybe not - I can’t recall) ,
Or like a man who runs around
And never seems to touch the ground.
A metaphor’s a stranger’s child,
And so to you it might seem wild;
But just when you think, “This is rum! ”
It up and bites you in the part of the anatomy on which a homo sapiens normally sits.
Now, if you think you’ve got my drift,
Then you have a very special gift,
‘Cause I can’t understand myself -
So, best to leave me on the shelf!
poem by Rory Hudson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lifted From Descriptive Restrictions
What is this thing called poetry?
Is it depictions...
Of vignettes connected.
Bridged between something said profound.
Recited as a sonnet...
With emotions sat upon it.
Exciting enough to be passed around?
Many try to describe poetry,
With an intellect approach...
Hoping to dull
Diverse interpretations,
With meters, tempo, rhyme
And lines counted!
Learned by rote and blurted.
Regurgitated from memory!
Can true poetry be defined without rhyme?
Can thoughts unconnected but colorized,
And flavored to moisten
Be the choice...
Of those who prefer their poetry moist?
Even though uncomprehending,
The meaning or intention of clues planted.
Seeded by the writer
Delighted to tease with mystery, sex
Or emotional pain aimed at the reader!
Can true poetry be defined,
As heartfelt expressions
Written to describe what then
Is in one's mind.
And who is to say there is a correct way
To reveal what one has to say with or without rhyme.
When those times come to pour a flow
That arrives and awaits the rush.
And thrusting that wish to be expressed as is!
What is this?
That has to find,
Poetic lines.
Requested or not!
When all it wants to do,
Is be delivered for what it is!
Searching for an accepted way...
In a style one owns,
Like none other conveys...
And lifted from descriptive restrictions,
To expand the demands of understanding!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode to the worthy, earthy and free versey
Of what would Spring be
Of what pleasures to see
Were it not for the words
Of a poetic potpourri
A bouquet composed Of fresh
and e'er changing compositions
Of prose composed of flesh,
The heart, and earthy renditions
It's the blossoms of Raskin
Whom to me is a rose
In the pleasure in the reading
As is the scent to the nose
It's the petals Of JewelPhoenix
Which she scatters about
Wonders of her writing
Would be hard to be without
It's Iroconnell, s earthy scent
Of musk and of nectar
That's prosed forth and then spent
To delight those around her
Spring brings also weeds
Like myself and many others
Like thorny Raggindragon, Daddyotom
And many other of my brothers
But today this poem of Spring
Is given to poetesses
Who escape from the trite,
Mundane everyday excesses
Deign to be different
Who, like seedy, Mother Nature
Cast their blossoming thoughts
To the winds of poetic nomenclature
We all write poetry and
By and large we all do it well
But just a few…a favored few
Can gift us the taste, the feel, and the smell
Of not just free verse, nor even of rhyme
Nor so flowery, or convoluted, as often are mine
Just Simple, pure… unadorned…
sweet, honest and sublime
And always poetic, as is Mother Nature
(at least most of the time!)
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bad Poetry Makes Me Ugly
Bad poetry makes me ugly:
Look, each line, a cliche
Each blemish, a simile;
My smile grows more bitingly smug
With each overzealous superlative.
My raccoon eyes are ringed
By metaphorical self delusions,
Badly performing alliteration-
All improvisations of incompetence;
And then the clash of symbol, deranges all thought.
Choose only the wound that is in your heart
That you would earnestly enlarge upon,
Steadfastly ignoring all the others.
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Muse for Me
My poetry doesn’t rhyme or flow
My poetry has no meaning and no feeling
My poetry has sex and violence written into it
My poetry cares for no one
My poetry is lost without you in it
Save me from my angry thoughts and schemes
I don’t want to be lost in a void where all write is uninspired
Become a muse for me, my poetry
poem by Double A P SS
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Poetry
1
poetry can be
like a sky filled with wrangling clouds
or as a sky without a wisp
2
in poetry there are no
clichés in thought and phrase;
and what is left there is
the resplendent and the living
3
poetry leaves one
rich inside
and ordinary outside
4
the fool defines poetry
and poetry defies all definitions
5
poetry entertains, inspires;
poetry tickles, distracts, and shapes and frees -
but its true intent, no one knows
6
many lines, and countless lines
many pages, and thick volumes
don’t make poetry
7
if one had no coins
one cannot buy bread;
but not all the world’s wealth
can bring you poetry
8
Oh no!
Not another love poem!
Oh no!
Not another poem about oneself!
9
rhyme, technique and meter
and tricks of prosody
don’t make poetry: passion does
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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