darkmaas
Literotica Guru
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Well, up here we are a tad anti-bush, but free whiskey is above mere posturing.
Well, up here we are a tad anti-bush, but free whiskey is above mere posturing.
Angeline
Poet Chick
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We're (more than) a tad anti-Bush down here, too, though I'm not sure I'm technically "down" from you. I might be more "up."
UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
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I started off trying to rhyme 'love' but beyond dove and shove it was a no go lol
Angeline
Poet Chick
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UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
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Thankyou kind lady I never actually thought about 'of' ryhming with 'love' and don't know if I will be doing anymore of these anyway I kept losing my place but please someone tell me if I did it right!
Remec
Master Glomper
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Angeline
Poet Chick
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Here's the cheat sheet. I always use these when I write in unfamiliar forms (except last night when I was doing it all in my head and I messed up!):
Stanza 1
A1
B1
A2
Stanza 2
A3
B2
A1 (Repeat line 1 from Stanza 1)
Stanza 3
A4
B3
A2 (Repeat line 3 from Stanza 1)
Stanza 4
A5
B4
A1 (Repeat line 1 from Stanza 1)
Stanza 5
A6
B5
A2 (Repeat line 3 from Stanza 1)
Stanza 6
A7
B6
A1 (Repeat line 1 from Stanza 1)
A2 (Repeat line 3 from Stanza 1)
That's it. When you have this in front of you as you write, it gets a lot easier.
UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
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It's similar to the spreadsheet someone told me to use for a sestina which is something else I would rather not experience again!! Hey someone just called me a Villannier lolol (part of my screen name on Aol is Annier)
Angeline
Poet Chick
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I like Villannier! It sounds like Mouseketeer to me! I'm a Villannier!
*ponders what sort of headgear we need*
UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
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Not the ears pleeeeeeeeze not the ears !
The_Fool
smiling for the camera
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A sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
a greeting murmured into afternoon.
Their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
and without words their eyes are speaking while
the caress of fingers is a silent tune:
a sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
hair fanned dark across his chest, no guile
in decadent distraction, and so soon
their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
that strains each whisper to a cry, tensile
she yields, she charms him, he is not immune
a sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
Damn, if this was all mine I would have started over a long time ago. This is a hard one. It might not be your fault, Ange, but I'm blaming you...
Angeline
Poet Chick
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A sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
a greeting murmured into afternoon.
Their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
and without words their eyes are speaking while
the caress of fingers is a silent tune:
a sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
hair fanned dark across his chest, no guile
in decadent distraction, and so soon
their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
that strains each whisper to a cry, tensile
she yields, she charms him, he is not immune
a sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
Damn, if this was all mine I would have started over a long time ago. This is a hard one. It might not be your fault, Ange, but I'm blaming you...
What? We can't edit? Honey, there's always editing. Though you can blame me if you want. I def dragged you into this. I'm no shirker of responsibility!
A sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
a greeting murmured into afternoon.
Their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
and without words their eyes are speaking while
the caress of fingers is a silent tune:
a sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
hair fanned dark across his chest, no guile
in decadent distraction, and so soon
their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
that strains each whisper to a cry, tensile
she yields, she charms him, he is not immune
a sip, a momentary pause, a smile
to prey this way and pray that no trial
unpredictablebijou
Peril!
- Joined
- Apr 21, 2007
- Posts
- 5,507
It may be cheating, but i'm using this as my 30/30 today too.
I need to stop reading challenge threads at 3 am. I seriously do.
Lines from a Pillow Book
The dragon is entangled in the snare
The heartbeat of your body on my tongue
And what is raised becomes the perfect prayer
As sky and earth are balanced in the air
And vibrate with the motion of a song
The dragon is enchanted in the snare
The braid of mouth and music hovers there
where twining serpents keep the lovers young
And what is raised transforms the perfect prayer
All desperate fingers tangled in the hair
The tongue that leads, the cock that comes along,
The dragon is engorging in the snare
This trade of angels turns a solar flare
A sweet flag raised and round the temple hung,
And what then flies transcends the perfect prayer
For life we drink as much as we can bear
and stoke the inner fire so it burns long,
The dragon is enlivened in the snare
and what's exchanged becomes the perfect prayer.
.
I need to stop reading challenge threads at 3 am. I seriously do.
Lines from a Pillow Book
The dragon is entangled in the snare
The heartbeat of your body on my tongue
And what is raised becomes the perfect prayer
As sky and earth are balanced in the air
And vibrate with the motion of a song
The dragon is enchanted in the snare
The braid of mouth and music hovers there
where twining serpents keep the lovers young
And what is raised transforms the perfect prayer
All desperate fingers tangled in the hair
The tongue that leads, the cock that comes along,
The dragon is engorging in the snare
This trade of angels turns a solar flare
A sweet flag raised and round the temple hung,
And what then flies transcends the perfect prayer
For life we drink as much as we can bear
and stoke the inner fire so it burns long,
The dragon is enlivened in the snare
and what's exchanged becomes the perfect prayer.
.
The_Fool
smiling for the camera
- Joined
- Jan 14, 2003
- Posts
- 17,755
A sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
a greeting murmured into afternoon.
Their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
and without words their eyes are speaking while
the caress of fingers is a silent tune:
a sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
hair fanned dark across his chest, no guile
in decadent distraction, and so soon
their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
that strains each whisper to a cry, tensile
she yields, she charms him, he is not immune
a sip, a momentary pause, a smile
to prey this way and pray that no trial
lead them astray. Each time they share a boon
their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
a greeting murmured into afternoon.
Their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
and without words their eyes are speaking while
the caress of fingers is a silent tune:
a sip, a momentary pause, a smile,
hair fanned dark across his chest, no guile
in decadent distraction, and so soon
their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
that strains each whisper to a cry, tensile
she yields, she charms him, he is not immune
a sip, a momentary pause, a smile
to prey this way and pray that no trial
lead them astray. Each time they share a boon
their sense of sinful pleasure worn with style
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,051
This is good. I like the way you shift the repeating lines around.
Tzara
Continental
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- Aug 2, 2005
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Where's Eluard? I have been waiting for some villanelle about, oh, maybe Bertrand Russell and Lady Morrell, or something:
Sweet Ottoline Morrell
Lord Bertie's parts did swell
And, perhaps, sweat.
Formed this a set
He was member of as well?
Oh, wait. That wasn't a villanelle, was it.Lord Bertie's parts did swell
And, perhaps, sweat.
Formed this a set
He was member of as well?
El! Where the hell are you?
Sara Crewe
Whatever
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Tzara
Continental
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- Aug 2, 2005
- Posts
- 7,609
Sara Crewe
Whatever
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- Jan 18, 2006
- Posts
- 1,692
Tzara
Continental
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- Posts
- 7,609
I was baiting him with Russell's antinomy. He claims to have solved it.
But, y'know, there seems to be time to kill before he shows up, so I thought I'd maybe just, y'know, hang out with whatever friendly birds might be about.
No barnyard jokes now, please. Farmer's daughter ones are OK, probably.
I do not want to hear anything about eggs, though. I am too old for that.
Sara Crewe
Whatever
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It is Never a good idea to tell me what you don't want to hear.
It's that red flag thing for me.
champagne1982
Dangerous Liaison
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2002
- Posts
- 7,671
I wonder if, with judicious editing, I could turn this into a villanelly? ...
Jonathan (Beyond Delicious)
Jonathan Apple showed up in the fall,
his cheeks red and round,
a smile like no other, on dark ruby lips,
the like of none else ever found.
The farmer's daughter delighted that he
chose to stop in at their place on his way,
to sip of the autumn's fresh pressed cup
on a gentle, Indian summer day.
Johnny Apple had promised that surely as spring
would bring fragrant blooms to the trees,
she would find him as willing to take her to wife
as orchards could bait honey bees.
But alas, bright May passed without his knock
on the door or him showing up like a weed
A bushel of apples grew in the sweet girl's womb
for Jonathan Apple had planted his seed.
The farmer was incensed that his girl had been duped
by a smooth talkin’ sharp with bright cheeks
but he loved his child and the fruit that she bore
enough that revenge no more would he seek
Twas enough, the man said, that the fool
never sees the sweet on the ground by his foot.
and he took his grandson from his girl's arms
and vowed Johnny would never watch this one take root.
Woe to the lad who steals of another man's orchard
for bitter are the fruits that he reaps.
Instead of the joy found in the love of a child,
he wallows in dirt with the company he keeps.
I tried, it's still a fun rhymer even so (and it is about a farmer's daughter).
Jonathan (Beyond Delicious)
Jonathan Apple showed up in the fall,
his cheeks red and round,
a smile like no other, on dark ruby lips,
the like of none else ever found.
The farmer's daughter delighted that he
chose to stop in at their place on his way,
to sip of the autumn's fresh pressed cup
on a gentle, Indian summer day.
Johnny Apple had promised that surely as spring
would bring fragrant blooms to the trees,
she would find him as willing to take her to wife
as orchards could bait honey bees.
But alas, bright May passed without his knock
on the door or him showing up like a weed
A bushel of apples grew in the sweet girl's womb
for Jonathan Apple had planted his seed.
The farmer was incensed that his girl had been duped
by a smooth talkin’ sharp with bright cheeks
but he loved his child and the fruit that she bore
enough that revenge no more would he seek
Twas enough, the man said, that the fool
never sees the sweet on the ground by his foot.
and he took his grandson from his girl's arms
and vowed Johnny would never watch this one take root.
Woe to the lad who steals of another man's orchard
for bitter are the fruits that he reaps.
Instead of the joy found in the love of a child,
he wallows in dirt with the company he keeps.
I tried, it's still a fun rhymer even so (and it is about a farmer's daughter).
Eluard
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 28, 2007
- Posts
- 994
Funny you ask because I was waiting to get a chance to post again to this thread and I was hoping that you'd be here by then.
And what I have to post has something to do with Russell's paradox — a little tangentially, but the connection is there.There was a logical puzzle in the first three posts to this thread.
Bijou said I am in in if someone else is in.
I said I am in if bijou is in.
Question: is anyone then in?
I really want all your answers to this question, and I'm particularly interested in what you, Tz, have to say.
So what do you think: was anyone then in?
UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
- Joined
- May 20, 2007
- Posts
- 15,794
I'm still swooning about the dragon engorging in the snare .......
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