[Robt_Ward]

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)

[Robt_Ward]

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)

[Roger Slater]

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

[Roger Slater]

Kobe

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

[Chris Childers]

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.

[RCL]

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).]

[Christopher Michel]

Jehovah's Witnesses

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

[Jan D. Hodge]

Epitaph Delayed

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

[Jan D. Hodge]

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).]

[Jan D. Hodge]

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.