Come chew the fat, good poets all--
don't drop the conversational ball.
There's only one condition:
What you write here has got to rhyme,
so open your Wood and take your time
in posting your submission
in formal forms or nonce--you choose
the rhyme and meter scheme to use.
Nigel's gone cyanotic!
He'll hold his breath till he gets his way;
says either we nonce or he won't play.
(Is that a bit despotic?)

So Nigel, dear, this thread's for you:
Do whatever you want to do.

Carol

Oh Nigel dear, I hope that you
look good in blue.

Nigel started up a thread
on Gazebo where he said,
"Poets, all, I challenge you
to write a silly poem or two
based on movies you and I know
(much as Tom just did with Psycho)."

Nigel's word is my command
and so at once I tried my hand.
What I produced I reproduce
upon this thread for double use,
confirming once again my motto:
What's good for the Gaz is good for Erato:

I refuse to participate; this is too crazy.
I'm crabby, cantankerous, feisty, 'n lazy.
I don't follow rules any more. That's for sure.
And you can't make me rhyme. I won't do. No Sir!



[This message has been edited by Pua Sandabar (edited January 12, 2002).]

Nigel, are you grieving
Over one old thread leaving?
Thoughts, like the things of man, you
With fresh words will rhyme, too, can you?
Ah! as your breath grows shorter
You will come to such sounds smarter
Very soon, nor spare a sigh
of the pure air you deny;
And yet you will breathe and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Nonce or formal--all the same.
While you slowly fade, breath bated
What you hoped for is created:
It is you this thread was born for,
It is Nigel whom we mourn for.

Oh, Margaret,
Mine eyes are wet.

------------------
Ralph

If someone would explain to me
who this guy named Nigel be
is he cute tall dark and handome
for who's love I'd pay King's ransom
is he the man of every girls dream
sexier than peaches and cream
would one kiss of his make me melt
and yearn for what's below the belt
if this description of mine holds true
then Nigel I want to marry you!


Gabriëlle Joy Eleonora

------------------
butterflies and melting chocolate,
fiery storm-winds, moody madness and silly fairy-tales....
a time to love, a time to dance and a time to write

[This message has been edited by joyeleonora (edited January 12, 2002).]

Before you ask him to adore a
girl named Gabriëlle Joy Eleonora,

before you come and claim "I'd gel
perfectly with a guy like Nigel,"

maybe you should explain some more
of why you're worth contending for?

Then, if Nigel is impressed
perhaps he'll undertake the test

that you exact from suitors who
may wish to settle down with you.

As much as I like and admire such gaiety,
from whenceforth in heck comes this wild spontaneity?
Seems you must each one be braver than I
or take things, perhaps, just less graver than I?
You pauselessly dash off such answering wit
or anyhow semi-related shit
as quickly as armies of flies land on worms
or, you know, that sweet goopy corpse stuff that squirms.
Hmmm -- friends, fellow Spherians, let me rephrase:
I come not to bury your words but to praise.
For, seeing you write fast, not gnash teeth or fidget--
I fear you've awakened a sleeping midget.

The one time I wakened a sound-sleeping midget
he cursed me and flashed me a foul middle digit.
And so it becomes my sad lot to report:
it isn't just stature; their tempers are short.