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-   -   Speccie Chain Reaction comp by 12th June (https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=20594)

Brian Allgar 06-05-2013 12:36 PM

Oh, well, since Bazza seems to be lying low, noblesse oblige. Every line more or less has a rhyme, although not in a regular order. (I borrowed 'ragout' from Chris.) And I must confess that there's not much of a connection between the acrostic and the subject-matter.

Freddy Fitzherbert Fitzackerly Fortescu,
Utterly clueless, though ‘uper-clarse’ (sic),
Crassly unlettered, and thick as a brick,
Knew, so he thought, how to make a ragout.

Taking some beef that was stringy and tough,
Heaving a packet of old vermicelli
Into the mixture, some rank haricots,
Slivers of mutton that, frankly, were off,

Fillets of cod that were barely so-so,
Oysters, an eight-month-old gift from his father,
Reeking and rancid (but so was his Pa).

All this he believed he had seen on the tel-
Ly, confused with a recipe used by his Ma.
After the meal, his companions felt rather
Regurgitative, and were fatally sick,
Killed off by the scoff from the trough of this toff.

Rob Stuart 06-05-2013 01:24 PM

Smartarse.

Brian Allgar 06-05-2013 01:41 PM

'Ere, Rob, watch yer mouth, or I'll be sending you a plateful.

Douglas G. Brown 06-06-2013 08:03 AM

Taking a lugubrious and cliché-ridden swing around the chain reaction circle...

Suspecting you had been untrue, I viewed your Facebook chatter;
Rewarding friends with “dividends”? Our arguments grew louder.
Romance you dished to all who wished; it didn’t really matter.
Respect for me would never be; and then you took a powder.

Recalcitrant is my descent from bliss to abject sorrow;
With you moved out, I have no doubt that life will be a bummer.
Remembrance of these past events makes me abhor tomorrow;
Will skies persist to drizzle mist? Will blizzards spoil my summer?

Regretting you … till grass grows blue, till margarine is butter,
Receding seas leave Celebes connected to Australia,
Angolan banks make Marks and Francs the currency they utter,
Rouen decrees a ban on cheese, and Google is a failure.

Escaped from here, I miss you dear, and weep a Mississippi;
Imagining what path will bring me from depressive lapses -
Submerge myself in pomp and pelf, or be a grungy hippie?
Ethanol is best of all to deaden my synapses.

Graham King 06-06-2013 12:30 PM

Wow, Douglas!

Tyrannosaurus rex strode -
Elongated femur, tibia and tarsi
In each leg enabling
Gigantic heavy paces.
Speedwise, what may we say?
Yes, such strides covered ground,
Doubtless eating distance up
Practically like prey!
Yet- what rate of progress?
Some suppose T. rex to have
Existed just by ambush-
Hiding till prey passed it,
Then a sudden lunge- Snap!
Perhaps pursuit (but- slow, swift? -
Tracking, chasing prey down?)
No-one knows which way, yet.

Graham King 06-08-2013 07:22 PM

I edify myself at length -
Highbrow volumes browse, reclining.
Good grief! Heaven give me strength:
How attention wanes, declining

Gradually into sleep…
Pages crumple; book falls, thumping-
Goading me awake at once,
Ears and eyes alert, heart pumping!

Ghost of willpower drives me on,
Now resuming wordy wending;
Groaning, though! This uphill task
Kindles little joy. I’m tending,

Grade-wise, downward; exams ask
Kabbalistic knowledge from me.
Eating stale starch by the ton
Now haunts my dreams; I bloat with ennui.

Graham King 06-08-2013 08:00 PM

Mister Whitworth
Has a poem
(Many notice)
Ever-ready;

Years’ worth of 'em!
Miles of writing,
Generated
Donkeys’ lives back,

Kept against the
Exigency,
Years or decades
(Some guess), later-

Ripe and apt to
Offer then as
Submi-ssions.
Serious, some;

Earthy, no few;
Worthy, wistful,
Longing, soulful…
Lastly, oft-time,

Entries comic!
Competitions
Sailed triumphant
Through, to finish,

He has known, and
Dark days (lacking
Gleanings meagre -
Even ‘hon mensh’)

He’s experienced;
Dogged, persists,
Subtly splendid,
Doughty, dauntless;

Spry his humour,
Ribald, poignant…
That is how he
Ever writes ‘em.

John Whitworth 06-09-2013 12:16 AM

Why thank you, Graham. I never knew you cared.

Douglas, I spell it 'till'. What do other Sphereans do? Your poem is a many splendoured thing.

Brian Allgar 06-09-2013 04:39 AM

John, when it's a stand-alone word, I spell it till. But Douglas is using 'til, the abbreviated form of until.

John Whitworth 06-09-2013 05:02 AM

I was thinking of 'Till Death do us part' and 'You never miss the water till the well goes dry'. I can't remember ever writing 'til in any context. Perhaps I should have, but it does look messy.


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