Write something in the style of Beowulf.

Here's something silly to get the ball rolling. Don't quite know what I'm doing, but I think I've got two half-lines of two stresses each, and three stressed alliterations per line. ("spears" alliterates with "swords," right?) I'm sure you'll let me know if I'm doing it wrong.

Middle-earth men,...mail-shirted males
in horned helmets...and heavy breastplates,
sporting spears...and brandishing swords,
take a break...from bragging and brawling,
and let us ladies...loot your booty.

Extra points for kennings.

What's kennings?

Short answer: cool, descriptive compounds, like "whale-road" for "sea" or "slaughter-dew" for "blood."

Long answer: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kennings

Blue-tressed old biddies...bawling and calling
stamping their sneakers...snivel and wail
spit-spattered kvetchings...for death to the thread
rage that it's praised yet it's...sexist and ageist.


[This message has been edited by Michael Cantor (edited July 11, 2006).]

What are old biddies?

Having worked a fair bit in the Anglo-Saxon measure, I believe I have the right to be a pedantic dipshit here.

In the first place, if you're going to do it strictly, alliterations with "S" alliterate according to consonant combinations--that is "st" with "st," but not "st" with "sk," for example.

One should also take care to alliterate on the STRESS, which doesn't always fall at the beginning of a word.

Quincy

Alliterative lines, lurching forward
In clanged kennings, can be hard
To render rightly, but reap a reward
In their wild weirdness... "wyrd bið ful araed!"

[This message has been edited by Quincy Lehr (edited July 11, 2006).]

Thanks, Quincy. I'd wondered about "sword" and "spear." I take it if "st" can't go with "sk," then just plain "s" can only go with "s" and not with "sp", right? Rats. I think I've stuck to stressed syllables, though.

I'm working on another one, and it's got a "b/br/bl" line. I may have to invoke the Drunken Scop's Rule, a little-known rule (since I just made it up) which allows for minor cheating. :)

Rose,

"S" can only alliterate with "s," more or less.

Quincy

Okay, here's the cheating one. From here on in I'll try to do it without cheating. Hopefully others will post better examples.

Was this easier to do in Anglo-Saxon, or am I just being whiny?


[deleted poem because I like it and think I might be able to do something with it]


[This message has been edited by Rose Kelleher (edited July 16, 2006).]

Rose,

It probably easier in Anglo-Saxon, but it also gets easier in modern English the more you do it. It's a radically different way of thinking about a line. That's all.

Quincy

Offhand and metrically botched, but:


Beowulf and Grendel


The script so lamejjjjj its lazy-assed language
idle and bloatedjjjjj with idiom idiotic
shoveled like shitjjjjj from shoat-pens neglected
Deadwood dialoguejjjjj down the Shield-Dane’s throat

I tilted my jumbojjjjj tub ’gainst the terror
battered that screen-scourgejjjjj with butter-bud blasts
maelstrom of maize-firejjjjj mad for vengeance
the ushers slippingjjjjj slung down in the slush

and as God, being greatjjjjj makes the east-heavens glow
a light from the lobbyjjjjj lessened our suffering
and the manager movedjjjjj to refund our money
as justly we jerkedjjjjj that limb from its joint


jjjjj

LOL, Jack. Points for "screen-scourge" and the clever ending.

Did you really walk out of the movie and get your money back? It was that bad? And badly allegorical?

The Spirit of Beowulf Possesses Janet


Sympathy for Grendel

When I was small, a clap of thunder
sent me ducking for cover under
a flowering jacaranda tree,
where Grendel lay in wait for me.

..........Hwaet! The hateful.....man-bane hid
..........shrouded in shadow,.....plotting shameful,
..........murderous deeds......A mite of a maid
..........entered his dark.....den of death.

Over the grassy, sheltered ground
he'd laid a picnic blanket down.
Politely he invited me
to join him in an early tea.

..........Feasting on gore,.....the foul fiend
..........tore at a corpse.....with tusk and talon.
..........Bewitched with fear.....of his wicked ways,
..........the maid could not move.....nor make a sound.

His eyes were wet and blue as flowers.
We sat and supped and talked for hours.
I dried his tears and held his hand.
"Some people just don't understand."

..........Gorged on the ghastly.....remains of a Geat,
..........the horrible hell-spawn.....spied the human.
..........Rolling his eyes.....and roaring with rage,
..........he clasped the maid.....with clenching claws.

Amid the summer evening songs
of butcher-birds and currawongs,
the creaking of the garden gate
reminded me that I was late.

..........I, Beowulf,.....unarmed and unaided,
..........rushed to the lair.....to wrestle the ravenous
..........devil, defying.....death with daring.
..........Lo, the coward.....released the lass.

As gold and coral streaked the sky,
we fondly hugged and said goodbye,
and to this day, I can't forget
the gentle monster I once met.

..........The beast was strong......Our strife and struggle
..........rocked the righteous.....ramparts of heaven
..........for nine days.....and nine nights.
..........Yea, verily.....the villain was vanquished.
.....




[This message has been edited by Rose Kelleher (edited July 14, 2006).]

Rose, that's beowunderful.
Janet

Hi Rose
I LOVE this one about Janet!!!!!
Mary

Rose, your poem is great!!! I love the way you balance the two registers - really really impressive.

Will you guys quit complimenting me and post something Beowulfy?!

(Blushes, secretly adoring the compliments but still hoping people will take up the challenge)

Here's a stab at it:

[Sorry to remove this after all these years, but I've decided to try to do something with the poem.]