Julie Stoner suggests the following:

'a FunExcise thread of two-line "tailgaters"--i.e., famous lines of poetry, turned into the first halves of couplets? Example:

Found Near the Top of a Torrey Pine

Whose woods these are I think I know.
He sure can't golf, but he can throw.

Since this exercise only requires people to write a single line, there should be plenty of participation!

OK--I'll give it a try.

In a Phone Booth

Had we but world enough and time...
"AT&T, another dime."

Reflections

I think that I will never see
a poet as beautiful as me.

The Dangers of Drink

The stag at eve had drunk his fill
and then fell off the window sill



[This message has been edited by Jim Hayes (edited January 08, 2004).]

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Solar Lover

*
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
They're binary stars, a pair compared to one.

*
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
They give no light or heat but still they stun.


I can't resist this opportunity to share a few "Tailgaters" from Richard Armour's very humorously illustrated collection, "Punctured Poems."

*
To err is human, to forgive divine.
Some errors I forgive, though, quickly.
...Mine.

*
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than married someone and been bossed.

*
When I consider how my light is spent
I'm glad utilities come with the rent.



[This message has been edited by Mario Pita (edited January 09, 2004).]

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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood —
they pee a LOT in that neighborhood —
and sorry I could not travel both,
I turned my back on the fork with an oath.

*******

When you are old and gray and full of sleep,
perhaps you'll stop your yapping and I'll find peace.

*******

That is no country for old men; the young
have finally risen up and killed them all.

*******

Whose woods these are I think I know –
Or were, at least – I've logged them now.

*******

Let me not to the marriage of two minds
devote much thought: I'd sooner marry rich.

*******

Complacencies of the peignor, and late
coffee have kept me up all night. I'm wrecked...

*******

Now all the truth is out,
run for shelter!

*******

I met her as a blossom on a stem
and fertilized her more than once, I did...

*******

someone stop me!

(robt)

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Build me more stately mansions, O my soul!
Then bring me Jello pudding in a bowl.

This is the sea, then, this great abeyance.
Last one in is a rotten egg.

Batter my heart, Three-person’d God.
I’ll see you in court, you brutish clod.

God tried to teach Crow how to talk.
But it only worked with Parrot.

O who will sing for Lycidas?
He is so buff and kissidous.

I wake and feel the fell of dark not day.
I’m out of Paxil and my shrink’s away.

It was many and many a year ago in a kingdom by the sea
Where unicorns pranced in the frothing foam and and blithely took a pee.

Whoso list to hunt I know where is a hind.
Whoso lust for cunt can find it on Tenth Avenue.

(Sorry about those last two!)

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WS - Sonnets, Revisited

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
O.B.s in both of these, then in the bill.

When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced,
My brow, I’ll botox till the time’s erased.

Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view
Are from one Dr. Young, Park Avenue.

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame -
Reality tv’s next prime-time game.

In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes -
That’s why I wear the patch down here, for size.

tsk, tsk, Ms Benedict:

We have to take points off for misquotation on your last offering: that's Whoso lists to hunt I know where is an hind...

Pedantically yours,
(robt)

For this iteration, I'm gonna pull first lines at random out of my lovely, 1933 anthology of the Victorians, bless 'em...

*****************

Futility

[i]Late, my Grandson! half the morning have I paced these sandy tracts;
and I tell you now, I'm failing in my search for amphibrachs.

*****************

On Eratosphere

It is a place where poets crowned may feel the heart's decaying,
where unkempt masses gather 'round to watch the public flaying...

*****************

Admittedly, not "famous" first lines, but real ones for sure.

(robt)

Robt, if we are going to be pedantic, please note that it is not "marriage of two minds" but "marriage of true minds". Gotcha!

Kobe

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I'll have my lawyer claim the strumpet lies.

Actually, Robt., while you're right about "an hind," it's "list," not "lists." It's a subjunctive probably in an indirect question, but maybe in a present general relative clause. At any rate, it's subjunctive, therefore "list." Tim posted a poem a while back on DE called "Whoso List to Hunt" and I remember a discussion of the verb's mood then, too.

I really dig this thread but I'm not witty enough to contribute to it.

Ooops. Didn’t realize they required titles.

The Day Before the Morning After

A sudden blow: the great wings beating still.
It’s Zeus, and I forgot to take my pill!

Larkin’s Revenge

They fuck you up, your mum and dad,
but you write verse that ain’t so bad.

Almighty Diction

Glory be to God for dappled things,
Contradictions every poet sings!

The Rabble’s Revenge

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We hoped that someone bold would shoot him down.

After Dante

I am one acquainted with the night,
like Dante, who got terza rima right.

After After Apple Picking

My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree:
Experimental apple grafting baffles me.

The Blond Assassin

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white:
Can it be frost that makes this morning rite?

What Comes Next?

After great pain, a formal feeling comes—
The Heartburn questions, Why? So one takes Tums.

All Washed Up

One day I wrote her name upon the strand.
She said, “You poets! Where’s the wedding band?”



[This message has been edited by RCL (edited January 10, 2004).]

Jehovah's Witnesses

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
Close curtains quick! Pretend that no one's home.

Epitaph Delayed

Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate.
But I ain't in no hurry. Let 'im wait!

Well Rested

Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece,
and Cairo, London, Rome, and Nice . . .

Election

The time you won your town the race
those hanging chads were a disgrace . . .



[This message has been edited by Jan D. Hodge (edited January 12, 2004).]

Rehearsal

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean.
But then, you never could resist a scene.


Reality Checks

They are not long, the days of wine and roses--
but then, love seldom is what one supposes.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may;
Soon enough you'll have to pay.


Dotage

That's my last duchess painted on the wall.
Or is it my maiden aunt? I don't recall.

Addictive, ain't it? http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/ubbhtml/smile.gif

Shopping List

A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread, and Thou-
sand Island Dressing. Pampers. Puppy Chow.

First Draft

By the shores of Gitchee Gumee
(Strike that. Dr. Seuss will sue me.)

Bush Approves Oil Drilling in Alaska Reserve

Piping down the valleys wild
makes Republicans reviled.

After the Cookoff

There was a roaring in the wind all night;
but we'd enjoyed that chili, every bite.

Matchmaker

Because I could not stop for Death,
I fixed him up with Great-Aunt Beth.

Closing Hymn

Awake from your slumber! Arise from your sleep!
And next week my sermon will not be so deep.

Fight Song

We're sons of Californ-i-a, fair mistress of the sea,
so on the roads we hail each other truly: "S.O.B.!"

Least-Eligible Bachelor

They flee from me that sometime did me seek.
My dotcom's bankrupt. Now I'm just a geek.

Cosmic, Man

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
requires a substance that's been banned.

Party Atmosphere

I wandered lonely as a cloud
for I'd been passing wind aloud.

Herds Linked to BSE Destroyed

What passing-bells for those who die as cattle?
"Why, cowbells, stupid! Stop your brainless prattle!"

Dirty Minivan

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
leaves WASH ME and a smiley in the grit.



[This message has been edited by Julie Stoner (edited January 13, 2004).]

LOL - I posted this elswhere a few days ago, unaware of this thread:

Frustration

I think that I shall never see
a public toilet seat unpeed.

I think I'll pick on our own Master of Memory:

Poor Man's Car

Edmund Clerihew Bentley
drove a Chevy, evidently.

Broken Windshield

All night driving south
spitting bugs from out my mouth

Next Morning - Having Closed the Bar

Leaving the pond she looks like something I knew
rising from the Black Lagoon, on cue.

Bear *grin*

And the arms reach to embrace their own rib cage
though he better loves the words he puts to page.

Dressin Up, Coming Out

It's the Angel Moroni, resplendent in gold drag,
- resplendent, but it lets his fake tits sag

Everything's Bigger in Texas

It's hot in the mountains now, even at night
you're in Texas where Hellfires burn even more bright.


Sorry, Robert: hope you're still speaking to me *grin*

It's Legal, Now

One foot on the floor, one knee in bed
must we be so inventive, now that we're wed?

Sigh...........

That's what comes of posting in the wee hours. "Lists" and "two" were both typos, as I presume was Ms Benedict's "a".

So it goes...

(robt)

For Jerry

Snow falling, and night falling fast, oh fast,
hiding that piss-ugly Volvo at last...

back atcha dude

(robt)

Does anyone besides me think it's hysterical that a Stoner posted the following?

Cosmic, Man

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
requires a substance that's been banned.


jejeje™

(robt)




[This message has been edited by Robt_Ward (edited January 13, 2004).]

Yes Julie's grain of sand is brilliant! And yes--STONER ;)

A few for the reaper:


Soft Embalmer

When I have fears that I may cease to be
I add a tot of brandy to my tea.

Stearn Warning

Stand on the highest pavement of the stair
If you’re the man I passed who wasn’t there.


On Time

Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race
and thy behind approximates thy face.

[This message has been edited by Janet Kenny (edited January 13, 2004).]

Mary, Part 2

Mary had a little lamb
marinated in mint jam.

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Bad Career Move?

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Porno won't get you very far.

No Eden

There is a garden in her face:
Weedy, ugly, a disgrace.


Love’s Limits

For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love:
Your cries will wake the neighbors up above!


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

Doodle Bug


To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield
while Robert doodles in an argent field.

back to you, Bear

[This message has been edited by Jerry Glenn Hartwig (edited January 13, 2004).]

Cheap Hotel

Mark but this flea, and mark in this
the price one pays for avarice.

Perennial

When that April with his showres soote
Returns, the I R S demands its quota.

[This message has been edited by Jan D. Hodge (edited January 13, 2004).]

Donne with Crooning
Go, and catch a falling star;
Perry Como's crosst the bar.

Retired Carouseliot
Although I do not hope to turn again,
Still orbital nostalgia gives me pain.

Yeats Hides from the Thunder
Once more the storm is howling, and half hid,
I wait, and cower beneath my dustbin lid.



[This message has been edited by Henry Quince (edited January 13, 2004).]

Unemployment
Why should I let the toad work
as a bellboy or a hotel clerk?


Euthanasia
When you are old and gray and full of sleep
We'll put you out of your misery, on the cheap.

Sound and Sense

I shall forget you presently my dear,
unless you capture heart and ear!

Ummm, Jerry...

This is a Formalist workshop and you just broke form, for gawdsake:

"To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield" is a last line, dude. So this submission of yours is NOT a "tailgater". Perhaps we should call it a new form, a "Cart-Before-the-Horser"?

fondly,

(robt)

Oh heck, Robert....

I thought it was a FunExercise forum!

Take note, passers-by, of the sharp erosions
that wrinkle my brow 'cause of Robert's emotions

That better? Or shall we debate the metricality of the poem this came from? *grin*



I didn't realise it had to be a 'first' line from the description *humble appeal for forgiveness*


[This message has been edited by Jerry Glenn Hartwig (edited January 14, 2004).]

Temperance Lecturer

Drink to me only with thine eyes
While I get drunk and moralize.


Culinary

I struck the board and cried, "No more;
I've et yer possum stew before!"


P.S.: These are both first lines, but I have to go with Jerry's interpretation. First line is not specified, and we have the example(s) of Julie herself. While one <u>could</u> argue that each of Khayyam's quatrains is an individual poem, "By the shores of Gitchee Gumee" comes well into the third chapter of "Song of Hiawatha." http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/ubbhtml/smile.gif

[This message has been edited by Jan D. Hodge (edited January 14, 2004).]