Speccie paracrostic
 

It was all a bit beyond me but clever Bill Greenwell and Frank Osen star. Is Max Ross one of us?

I'd never heard of a paracrostic, but this is how it works.

NO. 2724: paracrostic
You are invited to supply a poem in which the initial letters of each line read down the page reproduce the last line (16 lines max.). Please email entries, if possible, to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 23 November.

Hmmm, tricky.

To write a verse within such rules,
How can this count as fun?
I think that only drunks or fools
Suspect it can be done.
I wonder, Muse, why you inflict
Such mental aches and pains?
Although I sometimes wish you strict,
Let go now, spare my brains!
Oh, last line spelled out down one side,
A sadist’s trick I fear!
Daft task! Alas, I have my pride,
Or else I ‘d stop right here.
Fair chance? At least my ear’s not tin . . .
Refrain from hope, you clot!
One fact ensures that you won’t win -
This is a load of rot.

I see they did this before, only with the acrostic having to duplicate the first line:

http://www.spectator.co.uk/wit-and-w...ctator/part_2/

It seems that the first thing you need is a last line that has the same first and last letter.

It's hard to see the fun in this. (But Jerome's was fun.)

Egotistical Paracrostic

I!

Congratulations, Jerome. I've been trying to do 'Desperate Dan died. but I haven't got very far.

Desperate Dan died.
Everyone sad inside
Screwed him into his box,
Passed away of the pox.

Elegant excellent feller,
Raising his silk umbrella,
Always the perfect gent
Till the grim reaper was sent


That took an age and still NBG.

John - your memory may be going. You won £25 for a rather good one, back in 2008.
http://www.spectator.co.uk/wit-and-w...petition.thtml

George

Right enough George. That one's not bad at all. I must think of a line.

Girls are exciting
In so many ways.
Ramona likes biting.
Larissa likes lays -

Splendiferous sex and
All similar stuff.
Rosanna likes pecs and
Elvira likes rough.

Emelda likes Hubert.
Xanthe likes Fee.
Corinna likes you but
Irene likes me.

This be the verse
In rhyme and fine writing,
Needful and terse:
Girls are exciting.

Needs a little work but I like it better than bloody Desperate Dan.

John, those first two stanzas are hilarious! As you've probably realised you've missed the penultimate N line.

Roger, didn't understand this: It seems that the first thing you need is a last line that has the same first and last letter.

Jerome:

This is a load of rot

Girls are exciting

etc.

The last line must begin and end with the same letter, no?

No - just the initial (ie first) letters. I think.

Leave your lavish,
Expensive ways.
Squandering twits are
Scorned these days.
Infamy waits on
Such excess:
More is less.
Over-consumption
Reaps no laurel.
Ample feels good, but
Less is moral.

Then why does every example so far have a last line that begins and ends with the same letter?

The last line must start with the last letter of the last line because the poem is an acrostic of the last line.

Thanks Jerome. I hadn't noticed but thanks to you I have now.

Neat and pointed, Susan.

Roger, I think it's just a coincidence.

I've been looking at all my efforts so far. The last line has to begin with the same letter as the first line, and since it must also be an exact replica of all the left-hand initial letters, it has to end with the same letter as that downward list so...Roger is right.

But I think that is a result of the form rather than a necessary fons et origo for the poem.

My brain hurts.

Imagine what my brain feels like. I don't even know what a fons et origo is.

I just brought up the letter thing because I was halfway through a poem I was writing before I realized it wouldn't work, so I thought I'd spare others the same fate.

Anyway, here's all I've eked out so far. It needs work (and by "work" I mean "throwing out"):

Why Not Now?

Will you ever
Have the time?
You are never
Near and I'm
On my knees
To beg you please
Not to squeeze
Out of your vow.
Why not now?

Roger, I think the fact that the three examples here have a last line with the initial and final letters the same is just one of those scary coincidences. The rubric simply stipulates 16 lines max and that the left-hand initial letters of the piece spell out the last line.

In the 14 winning entries in the two previous Spectator panacrostic comps linked to in this thread only one of the spelled out lines (initial lines in this case) has intial and final letters the same. ( 'Sarah Palin's specs'.)

If Susan's ingenious twelve lines (sorry Susan) had ended

Reaps no maizes
Ample feels good, but
Less wins praises.

she would still have complied with the instructions.

Oops, you're right. Having just tried one with mismatched bookends, I've realized it's impossible any other way.

Sorry, Roger, you and Ann were right and I was wrong. However, as Ann says, it follows automatically that the last line begins and ends with the same lettter because of the acrostic so no more effort is involved. And, of course, my amendment to Susan's piece would have completely wrecked it.

I don't know how any of you have done it. I've been trying and either it's a line or more to long or there's no meter. Arrggg!

At this point I like your I idea, Roger!

I'm not giving up yet, though.

Cheers to all!
Donna

http://www.terminartors.com/artworkp...i_Pace-St_Lucy


See where the sainted Lucy stands,
A silver salver in her hands,
Inviting gawpers, who are straying
Nearer to see what she’s displaying.
Two poached eggs? That would be jolly.
Little pickled onions? Prolly.
Ugh! The poor fools!
Can the poor innocents not see?
You know they can’t (but nor can she).
Roll up, roll up! Confirm the rumour!
Under their glaze of vitreous humour
Lucy’s eyes are on display!
Excellent showmanship! Hooray!
Saint Lucy rules!

Very clever, Ann, and an interesting nod to the contest judge--so long as she doesn't think you are implying that the umpire is blind.

Susan

. . . . or comparing her eyes to poached eggs and pickled onions . . .

Yes, of course it follows automatically, but understanding that fact when you decide on a final line (as at first I did not) can be a big time saver. Another thing to consider in advance is the total number of letters of the final line. If you want to write quatrains, a multiple of four can be useful.

Moreover, since we are restricted to a maximum of sixteen lines, we are also restricted to a maximum of sixteen letters in that last line. So if all the lines are to measure up to it, then IP is out of the question.

I cheated in mine by making it a half-line, but it's another hurdle to leap.

Susan - I wasn't going to send in my earlier effort. Heavens forfend! It was just that I had been wittering on about the rules and restrictions for so long that I felt I should either put up or shut up!

I don't want to upset Lucy. I have finally plucked up the courage to ask about my cheque for Competition 2709 and I fear her ire!

It isn't Lucy who is in charge of paying, Ann. Why not ask for the Accounts Department directly? There's a nice man there who paid me without demur.

Oh, I didn't accuse her of being tightfisted or remiss - I assumed it was an accounting glitch. She's OK, is Lucy. I wouldn't dream of presenting her as a sort of manic vestal virgin with her eyeballs on a tray...

I'm a manic vestal virgin with her eyeballs on a tray

There's a poem there surely.

I thought this was a paracrostic but it is not--the last line is not the same as the vertical line. Please disregard! This is a tough one.

Effort number 2:

‘Round November ,
Under its sky,
Scuds of leaves
Skate and fly.
Emerald’s embers,
They fill the streets,
They swell with rains,
Heap up in piles,
En-clog the drains.
Reddish leaves are
Easily seen
And routed by a
Power blower-
Evictor grim- of
Russet; the reaper.

Why Now?

When I
Have gotten over you
You vow

Never to leave again.
Okay,
Why now?

Krakatoa

A'a,
AA!

Until the Fat Lady Sings

Maria's
Ululations:
Mum.

Until I glanced down,
Narcissus, and found
That face near the ground,
I wore a frown,
Life seemed so long.
Then we became fond
Here by the pond,
Ensnared in our song.
Reclining, I see
Each line of your face,
Which I mentally trace
As you worship me.
Still, it could be true
You're not that discrete,
Oh, but we weren’t complete,
Until there was you.

Very funny, Frank. I particularly like the play on "discrete."

Susan