Your task, if you choose to accept it:

Re-write Beowulf, or a part of it, or Light Brigade, or any other famous poem, in limerick stanzas.

I'll comment next week on my return from away.

David

Ode To A Nightingale

A nightingale I once heard cheep
stirred in me longings quite deep.
...I said with a sigh,
...“I wish I could die!”
then wondered, “Do I wake or sleep?”




[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited May 08, 2006).]

Do Not Go Gentle

Oh father, near death on that height,
curse for me, put up a fight!
...Am I sentimental
...to say don't go gentle
but rage as you face that good night?

**

Beowulf

For most folks just one monster killed
would mean that their quota was filled.
... Not Beowulf! He
... dispatched (count ’em) three,
before his own lifeblood was spilled.


**


Charge of the Light Brigade

Not given to reasoning why,
not choosing to make a reply,
... though someone had blundered
... on rode the six hundred
and did what they did, which was die.







[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited May 08, 2006).]

The Charge of the Light Brigade

Forward, the Light Brigade!
“Charge for the lot” they said
Ours not to reason why
but sit in the dark and sigh
or ten cents a kilowatt paid.




[This message has been edited by Jim Hayes (edited May 09, 2006).]

Let Me Not To The Marriage, etc.

To the marriage of true minds admit
no impediment; no, not one bit!
...Prove that I lie
...and you've also proved I
never loved, and what's more, never writ.



[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited May 09, 2006).]

How Do I Love Thee?

How do I love thee? My list:
up down and sideways. The gist
...is "every which way."
...What more can I say?
I'll love thee when I don't exist.

***

Death of a Hired Man

"Silas is home," Mary said.
"Warren, be nice. He's in bed."
... "I'll go and check 'nd
... be back in a second,"
said Warren, but Silas was dead.






[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited May 09, 2006).]

Gunga Din

Though 'eathen, 'is virtues eclipse
My own, as 'e waters my lips.
...In Injia or 'ell,
...'E serves just as well,
But 'ell 'as a jar wot's marked TIPS.



[This message has been edited by Julie Stoner (edited May 09, 2006).]

The Iliad

Achilles and Hector would grumble,
"Why, gods, won't the city walls tumble?"
... Imagine their joy
... when the morons of Troy
were deaf to the horse belly's rumble.

Or was it they thought, "indigestion,"
dismissing Cassandra's suggestion
... that maybe they should
... put their ears to the wood,
if only to settle the question?





[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited May 09, 2006).]

The Second Second Coming

There once was a dunce falconeer
who discovered his bird wouldn't hear
imprecations to halt
(they shared the same fault),
as the Beast slouched increasingly near.

The Tyger

O Tyger whose spelling is y'd,
Who made thee? What tools were applied?
...Who dared to design
...Each dread, deadly line?
Just what did the school board decide?

The Love Limerick of J. Alfred Prufrock

Michelangelo moves me, you know,
with an artistry most ultimo -
he's not verité,
but I do have to say,
Antonioni is never detrop.



[This message has been edited by Michael Cantor (edited May 10, 2006).]

The Truth about Trees

I’ve never read anyone’s rhyme
as lovely as flowering lime,
and sweet-leaving laurel
is surely more moral
than blustering poets, like I’m.

This is Just to Crow

I have eaten the plums that were there
in the icebox, too tempting to bear.
.....Who could have missed them?
.....I couldn’t resist them,
so sweet and so cold. Neah neah neah!



[This message has been edited by Henry Quince (edited May 10, 2006).]

The Soldier

Should it happen one day that they bury
my body abroad (thanks to Jerry),
....though England I’ll miss,
....my comfort is this,
that I’ll be with God, making merry.



[This message has been edited by Henry Quince (edited May 10, 2006).]

Ulysses to the Ithacans

"Do I care if some other king craves
to give laws to plebeians and knaves?
.....My son being fit
.....to handle that shit,
come on, mates, let's straddle the waves!"

The Duke, Less Subtly

"In her portrait she looks like a saint,
but I found much cause for complaint.
.....Should I marry your daughter,
.....she'll do as she aughter,
or she too will live but in paint."

[This message has been edited by Jan D. Hodge (edited May 10, 2006).]

Rhyming by Woods

These woods are not mine, but I know them.
My horse waits; I rhyme while flakes snow them.
....They’re lovely and deep,
....but I’m longing to sleep,
and I can’t till I ode or rondeau them.

Another Take on Prufrock

(originally posted PM to M. Cantor, who suggested I post it here)

What say you we amble downtown
and act—you a vamp, I a clown—
.....while the others discuss
.....some meaningless fuss?
For hearing those voices we drown.

Ode On Intimations Of Immortality

When I was a boy, I was happy,
a dad to my very own pappy,
... but when I grew old
... the world struck me cold
and sometimes I felt downright crappy.

But as I grew wiser I learned
inside me God's torches still burned,
... and so now and then
... felt joyful again
as all the good feeling returned.

Love Immortal

Have you heard of my Annabel Lee?
I sleep in her tomb by the sea.
.....Our love was so zealous
.....the angels were jealous,
and took my dear Annie from me.

I referred a non-Spherean friend to the thread, and she posted back in short order the following:

She Walks in Beauty (Sometimes)

Lord Byron was certainly right
comparing her beauty to night.
.....I heard him remark
....."She's fine in the dark,
but by daylight she gives me a fright."

and while this isn't really a summary of a poem, it is pretty much in the same spirit:

Words, Words, Words

Some words are a pleasure to say,
like "mulch" and "Guantanamo Bay."
.....But forget all the rest;
.....the one I like best
is "Edna St. Vincent Millay."

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in the wood.
Confused, for a moment I stood
.... and muttered an oath.
.... I could not take both,
yet damn how I wished that I could.

Reluctance

To man it has always been treason,
confronting the end of a season,
.... to feel no regret;
.... it grieves us, and yet
our grief is rebutted by reason.

When Beowulf checked into Heorot,
he ripped off Grendel's arm (what a show-boat),
chopped off Gren's ma's head,
left Dragon quite dead,
yet soon followed suit -- that's all he wrote.

(ducking)
Robin


http://www.qualitybargainz.com/goryarm.jpg

[This message has been edited by Robin-Kemp (edited May 11, 2006).]

Stopping by the Woods

Whose woods these may be I don't know.
I'd like to lie down in the snow
.... and perish right here,
.... but my horse thinks it queer,
and he's right. I've got miles to go.



[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited May 14, 2006).]

The Ancient Mariner

When a silly old salt killed a bird, it
hung round him — I wish he’d interred it.
....Such a tedious bore, he
....repeats his long story
endlessly — doubtless you’ve heard it.

....

O Woman Mine

Hey girl, where ya headed? Ya need me
Ya practically guaranteed me
My songs gotta suit ya
Don’t live in tha future
Let’s do it right now, do ya read me?




[This message has been edited by Henry Quince (edited May 11, 2006).]

Antigone

Little sis, come, we must have some words!
The rulers of Thebes are such nerds!
.... If I had my druthers,
.... I'd bury all brothers,
I'd not leave their bodies to birds.

Buffalo Bill's Defunct

buffalo bill is defunct
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand the horse
he came in on as wellxxxxxxxxxxxxx and of course
mister death got the
blame

but some others will claim

xxxxxxxxxxxxxit was ee who had no


remorse



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

The Charge of the Light Brigade

Edmund Conti, McKenty and Moore
can be so slight their Lightness may bore -
some verse is Sophomoric
(which I find abhoric) -
for the good stuff gets crushed by the poor.



[This message has been edited by Michael Cantor (edited May 12, 2006).]

A Dover Duet

I brought you to Dover to tell
you, my dear, that I’m caught in the spell
.....of an infinite rue,
.....but that we must be true
though the world's headed swiftly to hell.

..........*..........*..........*

Do you plan to keep talking till dawn?
Your monody’s making me yawn.
.....I really don’t care
.....about your despair.
Get over it, guy, or I’m gone!


[This message has been edited by Jan D. Hodge (edited May 12, 2006).]

The Shepherd and the Nymph

“Consent, dear, our lives to unite
and we shall sweet verses recite
.....surrounded by sheep
.....and roses a-heap,
in a bower of rustic delight.”

....................--

“I’m flattered by such a tableau
but your verses are only so-so,
.....your sheep make me sneeze
.....and your roses don’t please,
so my answer, sweet shepherd, is no.”

Forgotten Heroes

1. Gunga Dung

Yer a better man than I am Gunga Dung
wid yer telescopic tonsil-ticklin’ tongue,
word abaht the Khyber pass
sez that you can lick yer arse,
an’ yer draggin’ on the ground yer so well hung.

OUT! OUT!

The saw makes the boy's hand a shred.
He should have had dinner instead.
... The boy, alas, dies,
... and everyone cries,
then moves on, since they are not dead.


...

No Piazza Piece

A dust-coated gentleman stuck
At a trellis, not having much luck,
Called up, “May I come in?”
The girl said with chagrin,
“There's no way, sir! You’re such an old schmuck.”




[This message has been edited by Mark Blaeuer (edited May 13, 2006).]

Forgotten Heroes

2. Molly Doolittle

Can't ya wait Enri Iggins, can't ya wait
ev'ry time that we make love when on a date?
I'm more buxom than Eliza.
an' I really knows ya tries, ya
must take more time before ya 'jaculate.

Trees

I never expect that I'll see
a poem as nice as a tree.
... But isn't it odd
... omnipotent God
can't seem to write poems good as me?

Forgotten Heroes

3. Mrs Sisyphus

He's out and up each day like bloody clock
work, I sit home and listen for his knock,
for when the sun goes down
I don a skimpy gown--
he's just as dumb but harder than his rock

The Panther

The panther in Paris was lord
of his prison, and thoroughly bored.
He longed to ingest
his zookeeper's chest
as a perk, or perhaps an award.

(Warning: non-pc)


The Dwarf's Song

I must have been sketched by a witch
or a god who is turning out kitsch.
Am I really so flawed?
Was I made by a fraud?
Or am I a Microsoft glitch?

Au Lecteur

Of all the foul things you could mention,
pestilence, war and dissension,
... it's easy to see
... the demon Ennui,
is worst, or at least in contention.