Take a famous poem and

[butters]

mix it up a bit with your own words.

you can change anything you like, just a first or last line, for example, or lots of changes throughout. make it funny or smart, or simply surprise us by making something familiar truly odd. great examples are the kind of thing bronze does with the ubiquitous 'I wandered lonely as a cloud' or 'I think that I shall never see ...'

I think that I shall never see
a maid more orangey than she
a tango'd miss, coloured amiss
with teeth as white as white can be

 

[bronzeage]

Hail to thee, blithe Spurt!
from friction happily worked,
Solitary pleasure is love's substitute,
that from such effort, so little gained,
but a moments release and sheets stained.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I'll be back

 

[Angeline]

How about a glosa?

This is a glosa I wrote several years ago based on WB Yeats' The Wild Swans At Coole, which is one of my favorite poems ever. Some poems are really hard for me to write: I labor over them, but this one was pure pleasure because I so love the poem on which it is based.

Also I didn't follow the glosa guidelines to the letter, having moved the last line of the texte to the end (instead of the beginning) of the last stanza, but I think it sounds much better there. And I have no problem whatsoever breaking a rule if I think it yields a better result.

Glosa on Coole Park

But now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
~ William Butler Yeats, The Wild Swans at Coole

But now they drift on the still water
Where once they rushed in tides,
Silenced by a distant daughter,
Lake’s mistress who abides

Mysterious, beautiful,
Laurel crown and empty hands.
Is this prison? Was she dutiful,
Married to the stands

Among what rushes they will build
Their nests, companionable in pairs,
While she alone and wise, stilled
By moon ennui declares

By what lake’s edge or pool
She might have made her home,
Or known how gentler rule
Might keep her safe as starlight’s dome

Delights men’s eyes, When I awake some day
From ancient dreams to find that dawn
Reveals a feather, will I shake away
Sleep from my limbs, and with a yawn

Exhale memories, unfold these wings
To flight, release hope to another day
And soar skyward as hours cling
To find they have flown away?

 

[UnderYourSpell]

This is a glosa I wrote several years ago based on WB Yeats' The Wild Swans At Coole, which is one of my favorite poems ever. Some poems are really hard for me to write: I labor over them, but this one was pure pleasure because I so love the poem on which it is based.

Also I didn't follow the glosa guidelines to the letter, having moved the last line of the texte to the end (instead of the beginning) of the last stanza, but I think it sounds much better there. And I have no problem whatsoever breaking a rule if I think it yields a better result.

Glosa on Coole Park

But now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
~ William Butler Yeats, The Wild Swans at Coole

But now they drift on the still water
Where once they rushed in tides,
Silenced by a distant daughter,
Lake’s mistress who abides

Mysterious, beautiful,
Laurel crown and empty hands.
Is this prison? Was she dutiful,
Married to the stands

Among what rushes they will build
Their nests, companionable in pairs,
While she alone and wise, stilled
By moon ennui declares

By what lake’s edge or pool
She might have made her home,
Or known how gentler rule
Might keep her safe as starlight’s dome

Delights men’s eyes, When I awake some day
From ancient dreams to find that dawn
Reveals a feather, will I shake away
Sleep from my limbs, and with a yawn

Exhale memories, unfold these wings
To flight, release hope to another day
And soar skyward as hours cling
To find they have flown away?

Yes you're quite right it fits perfectly and you beat me to it I immediately thought glosa too!

 

[UnderYourSpell]

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.
Leo Marks

This is part of the 'code poem' for Violette Szabo who was shot in the back of the head in a concentration camp in 1945, holding the hands of two other Special Operations Executive agents. Filmed as Carve her name with Pride.

I'll go not to this dark alone
nor hide beneath the stone
a sleep I shall have
sisters kneel but we are never prone.

Hands that now are clasping mine
so will our hearts combine
a rest I shall have
my labours done behind the enemy line.

What matters where my body lay
released from torture on this day
yet death will be but a pause
my soul shall rise above the fray.

I see my home in my minds eye
life has been just a passing sigh
for the peace of my years
not lost even in this last goodbye.

To look to the sky as in a dream
beauty of earth below would seem
in the long green grass
reflected my final passing gleam.

Left behind on these foreign shores
a heart so true my spirit soars
given to you a freedom paid
will be yours and yours and yours.

 

[Angeline]

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.
Leo Marks

This is part of the 'code poem' for Violette Szabo who was shot in the back of the head in a concentration camp in 1945, holding the hands of two other Special Operations Executive agents. Filmed as Carve her name with Pride.

I'll go not to this dark alone
nor hide beneath the stone
a sleep I shall have
sisters kneel but we are never prone.

Hands that now are clasping mine
so will our hearts combine
a rest I shall have
my labours done behind the enemy line.

What matters where my body lay
released from torture on this day
yet death will be but a pause
my soul shall rise above the fray.

I see my home in my minds eye
life has been just a passing sigh
for the peace of my years
not lost even in this last goodbye.

To look to the sky as in a dream
beauty of earth below would seem
in the long green grass
reflected my final passing gleam.

Left behind on these foreign shores
a heart so true my spirit soars
given to you a freedom paid
will be yours and yours and yours.

Very moving and beautiful, Annie. I do love the glosa form--it's so flexible and your poem (like mine, I think) has a strong echo of the original poem in the way the lines from the texte weave through it.

 

[CharleyH]

.....

 

[CharleyH]

Well. Interesting and the original poem is from Basho:


His version is:

old pond . . .
a frog leaps in
water’s sound

My change is:

old pond . . .
a frog leaps in
concrete

 

[CharleyH]

Sorry, Ang. Diverged. Sweet bump. xo

 

[Angeline]

Sorry, Ang. Diverged. Sweet bump. xo

xxxxoooo (half for you and half for La Hynde)

 

[butters]

Hail to thee, blithe Spurt!
from friction happily worked,
Solitary pleasure is love's substitute,
that from such effort, so little gained,
but a moments release and sheets stained.

blithe spurt... *chuckles*

 

[butters]

Glosa on Coole Park

But now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
~ William Butler Yeats, The Wild Swans at Coole

But now they drift on the still water
Where once they rushed in tides,
Silenced by a distant daughter,
Lake’s mistress who abides

Mysterious, beautiful,
Laurel crown and empty hands.
Is this prison? Was she dutiful,
Married to the stands

Among what rushes they will build
Their nests, companionable in pairs,
While she alone and wise, stilled
By moon ennui declares

By what lake’s edge or pool
She might have made her home,
Or known how gentler rule
Might keep her safe as starlight’s dome

Delights men’s eyes, When I awake some day
From ancient dreams to find that dawn
Reveals a feather, will I shake away
Sleep from my limbs, and with a yawn

Exhale memories, unfold these wings
To flight, release hope to another day
And soar skyward as hours cling
To find they have flown away?

beautiful poem, ang, and this phrasing especially:

When I awake some day from ancient dreams to find that dawn reveals a feather, will I shake away sleep from my limbs, and with a yawn exhale memories, unfold these wings to flight, release hope...

 

[butters]

I'll go not to this dark alone
nor hide beneath the stone
a sleep I shall have
sisters kneel but we are never prone.

Hands that now are clasping mine
so will our hearts combine
a rest I shall have
my labours done behind the enemy line.

What matters where my body lay
released from torture on this day
yet death will be but a pause
my soul shall rise above the fray.

I see my home in my minds eye
life has been just a passing sigh
for the peace of my years
not lost even in this last goodbye.

To look to the sky as in a dream
beauty of earth below would seem
in the long green grass
reflected my final passing gleam.

Left behind on these foreign shores
a heart so true my spirit soars
given to you a freedom paid
will be yours and yours and yours.

imo you've definitely found the voice of that genre of film... takes me right into the world of black and white movies, musical scores, softened focus, moist eyes and moist handkerchiefs...

 

[butters]

Well. Interesting and the original poem is from Basho:


His version is:

old pond . . .
a frog leaps in
water’s sound

My change is:

old pond . . .
a frog leaps in
concrete

the frog's aha! moment?

*snerk*

 

[CharleyH]

xxxxoooo (half for you and half for La Hynde)

And all the hugs and kisses back from us both. xoxox

 

[CharleyH]

the frog's aha! moment?

lol - indeed.

 

[butters]

the frog's aha! moment?

lol - indeed.

well, i did vacillate between aha! and argggh!!!!, so i'm glad it worked anyway

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Very moving and beautiful, Annie. I do love the glosa form--it's so flexible and your poem (like mine, I think) has a strong echo of the original poem in the way the lines from the texte weave through it.

imo you've definitely found the voice of that genre of film... takes me right into the world of black and white movies, musical scores, softened focus, moist eyes and moist handkerchiefs...

that was for Survivor and it took me ages to get it right, had to keep leaving it and coming back to it

Well. Interesting and the original poem is from Basho:


His version is:

old pond . . .
a frog leaps in
water’s sound

My change is:

old pond . . .
a frog leaps in
concrete

you're bad you are

 

[CharleyH]

the frog's aha! moment?

*snerk*

Maybe I should have changed two words:

New pond
a frog leaps in
concrete

And yes, I am bad to the bone! xo

 

[CharleyH]

I'll be back

I think this is said with a lilt:

All be bach. xo

 

[Remec]

OT insertion

I think this is said with a lilt:

All be bach. xo

Ja, Ah'll be Mozart.

 

[twelveoone]

Well. Interesting and the original poem is from Basho:


His version is:

old pond . . .
a frog leaps in
water’s sound

My change is:

old pond . . .
a frog leaps in
concrete

a chunk of concrete
conks a plump frog. a ker thunk
Basho has dinner