When I sit and watch the surf.....................

Yes, we need more, but right now, I'm gonna watch The Sixth Sense for the sixteenth time.

He sees dead people. Now you know the ending for the sixteenth time. :wink:

Hahahahaha!
Thanks for the chuckle Diane!

Re: When I sit and watch the surf.....................


i quoted the poem since as usual - late to the party - i wanted it near for dissection:

realizing now its derivation i can see why it had a curious disjointedness, mixed with an overall unity - unusual!

It works like a musical 'duet' where singers alternate responses to each other.

And it evokes a mood of passive longing - a kind of strained resignation.

Good morning, all.

Strained resignation, Bo? I like that. Damn good critique. How come you don't write poetry any more?

I really appreciate everyone's input. Yes, Diane. I saw dead people last night and it was still good after the sixteenth time.

Letty, I'll be in Connecticut for the next two weeks, clearing out the house, but I'm looking forward to seeing more from you and oak when I return. Please don't stop with this one.

Diane, We've done a new one. I do wish others would do the same. This one, I think, dear Gautam will fall into...sorta like falling into the Ganges in his native dress.

Thank you all for your responses:

D'art
Suzy
colorbook
Bo
edgar
Soz

Until later, and until the last syllable of recorded time..

Where is the new one Letty ?

Hey, Gautam. I have to get it together, and I will post if after coffee.

The moon lights up my garden pond,
Its silver holds my sharp reflection,
an owl calls out a shrill alarm,
A scurrying creature escapes detection.

A curl of cool air cross my face,
A ruffle in my hair and pace.
What other glories can she offer?
What other beams in liquid coffer?

Scent of blossoms, bluebells, snowdrops
Enhance the fragrance, nature's song,
Will it last til early dawn and waking birds
With chanticleer of morning's chanting heard

Robin's reminder, blackbirds chatter, pigeons cooing earnestly
And then between these dawning sounds
There's always you; there's always me
Hand and hand above the turmoil that forever renders pain.

To all gardens that still echo,
Our world's cosmic calm refrain.


This verse is about as free as one may get, because it ignores rhythm while holding to rhyme in an unorthodox way. And that, my friends, is what poetry is all about.

Good morning,
From London and Florida

knock out Letty - the chick's done well. take a bow

and you, as well, OAK. Fun, ain't it.

phun, phun, phun till our Angel takes our brains away

Invited here by Letty
I'll sit and think awhile
How best to contribute
What length, what mood, what style

Ah, McTag. Thanks for responding, buddy, and as usual, I love your versifying.

Actually, this poem was what we call a co-op type thing. John, the Brit, started the first line, I added one, then he added one, etc.

As OAK says, it's a challenge to the matter, and a worthy test of chatter that adds grey stuff to the platter and a mind that's getting fatter.

Will be back !

Okay I've read the thread now and I don't understand how you build up the poem do you do it off-thread by PM and then post the finished article or what I'm confused

SNAFU~SNMIC situation normal, McTag is confused

Ah, Gautam. Surely your banking hours leave you free to see.

McTag. The co-op thing can be done on IM, e-mail, or in reality.

All that is necessary, is to start a line with someone you know, let them add the next, et cetera. It continues to amaze me how well it goes. Of course, it takes some doing to put the poem in its final stages, and that's what Letty did.(for that I take a bow)

I know how to punctuate really. This was my lame attempt at "blank prose". Not very good, very elegant, nor very funny, you may well think, and you'd be right.

Situation normal--All "fowled" up.