WHEN? LOST. SESTINA

POETIC FORMS
After the blogless break, three in one, taking different poetic forms for starters, see what you think
and have a go why not?



An  exercise often used for teaching beginners at writing poetry
is to imitate the Japanese Haiku at least in syllabic form
(5 syllables first line, 7 syllables second line and 5 in the last)
although ignoring any prescribed content.
I found it an enjoyable exercise and one of my
more successful efforts was;-

I hope to become
A mature human being
But time’s running out

sure is



Following on from the Haiku I tried a Burmese form, the Than Bauk 
which specifies the position of the rhyme in a three line poem, ie at the
end of first line, second from end in second  and third from end in the last
 I used it to make a longer poem;-

LOST

I heard your song
sung among sighs
and longed for you

I saw your face
smiling, graceful
no trace of guile

and it was you
with words truly
said, who will know?

Then we were one
all doubts gone, with
no-one between

But passion dies
and soft sighs fade
when lies invade

Poems can burn
that I learn when
you turn away.

Well at least the rhymes are in the right place and the last verse isn’t so bad




Lastly in this formal sequence is the SESTINA which is so complicated
that I have forgotten the rules but wrote this when I could still remember them.
I used it in tribute to the fallen of the war to end all wars which included my
mother’s father the granddad I never knew who was a miner and joined up
at the age of 34. I imagine him as one of the soldiers described in ‘Birdsong’
by Sebastian Faulks mining beneath the German trenches.

25830 Private Samuel Worthington
who survived Mons and died of his wounds
on the Somme 15th July 1916
buried in St. Sever Cemetery, Rouen

The lines are all purloined from songs sung by the soldiers at that time
frowned upon by some of the higher ranking officers.

SESTINA

The bells of Hell go ting-a-ling-a ling                    SOMME
Whiter than the whitewash on the wall                 YPRES
If you want the old battallion                               NEUVE CHAPELLE
Do your balls hang low?                                     VERDUN
When this bloody war is over                              MONS
Hush! Here comes a whizz-bang                         CAMBRAI

Hush! Here comes a whizz-bang                       CAMBRAI
For you but not for me                                      SOMME
O how happy I shall be                                    MONS
Whiter than the whitewash on the wall              YPRES
Can you swing them to and fro?                       VERDUN
I know where they are                                     NEUVE CHAPELLE

I know where they are                                     NEUVE CHAPELLE
Can you tie them in a knot?                             VERDUN
Now then soldier get down the stairs               CAMBRAI
For me the angels sing-a-ling-a-ling                  SOMME
Wash me in the water                                      YPRES
No more going in the trenches                         MONS

No more asking for a pass                              MONS
If you want the old battalion                            NEUVE CHAPELLE
Where you washed the colonel’s daughter       YPRES
Into your dugout and say your prayers            CAMBRAI
For me but not for you                                    SOMME
Can you tie them in a bow?                            VERDUN

Can you sling them on your shoulder?            VERDUN
You can tell the Sergeant Major                     MONS
Oh! Death where is thy sting-a-ling-a-ling      SOMME
I know where they are                                  NEUVE CHAPELLE
Hush here comes a whizz-bang                     CAMBRAI
And I shall be whiter than                             YPRES

The whitewash on the wall                                               YPRES
Like a lousy fucking soldier, do your balls hang low?         VERDUN
And it’s making straight for you                                        CAMBRAI
To stick his passes up his arse                                          MONS
They’re hanging on the old barbed wire                            NEUVE CHAPELLE
Or grave thy victory?                                                       SOMME


I read that a General objected to the language in some of the songs!
as he sent them to Hell

THE PARAMOUR'S REPLY TO THE POET

I was delighted to see how popular my first blog
THE PASSIONATE POET  TO HIS PARAMOUR
has been and decided to write  a possible reply
by the lady concerned. It needs to be read in
conjunction with the original poem of course.

THE PARAMOUR'S REPLY

Come with you? D'you think I'm daft?
When I told my friends they laughed and laughed

Carol Ann said that you're off your head
Writing poems that no-one's read
(Not that you're the only one
To suffer such oblivion)

And as for walking on Windermere
And riding the Western wind, no fear!

I would like a weekend trip to Mars
To do a Banksy on the stars

But flying by kite is not my style
I prefer to travel by crocodile

I can harmonise in any key
And know all the words to 'Sailor's Three'

But my dietician Mavis Flute
Warned me not to eat a raw square root

What may persuade me is the chance
Of joining in with the unicorn's dance

So--------
providing we bypass the university
I may decide that possibly
perhaps, perchance, conceivably,
maybe on condition that it's free
I may just let you come with me.

THE GOLDEN MEAN

Had a few days bleeding the NHS dry but back to usual decrepitude now. Indulging in the drug of old age
Nostalgia and remembering another class at school, not Latin this time but maths. My interest in the Golden Mean came later of course and gave me the idea for;-

THE GOLDEN MEAN

Miss Hall, Deputy Head

Looming in blue and bifocal specs

Speaking of God and mathematics.

Taught us Pythagorus and his hypotenuse

but not his theory of creation and

the formula  for

the shape of a face

the petals of flowers

the spirals of shells

our fingers and limbs,

who we will love and

who we will hate.

A formula whose ratio

was figured precisely

by Leonardo Fibonacci

who

after much thought

came up with the answer

one point six, one, eight, nought

When you think of a number remember Miss Hall

who knew that mathematics and God were the same

but didn't want to believe it.

HOLIDAYS

When we were active we enjoyed exploring Europe or at least some of it, often by car
without pre-booking accommodation and sometimes on a package holiday. When our travels were done I made a list of some of the places we'd visited and was rather surprised to find how much we'd managed to see. Hence;-

HOLIDAYS
(taken by me and mi missiz Joyce)

We've seen the Tower of Pisa
Got a glimpse of the Mona Lisa
And struggled to the summit of Vesuvius,
We've trolled the Rijksmuseum
Strolled through the Coliseum
And marvelled at the ruins of Vitruvius.

We sampled lots of vino
Got blotto in Bardolino
When we stayed on the shore of Lago Garda,
Heard the opera in Verona
Admired Gaudi’s Barcelona
And got sworn at on Italian autostrada.

We’ve seen paintings by Picasso
Even braved the Paris Metro
And visited the room where Vincent died,
Loved  the Still Lifes of Chardin
Mooched round Monet’s Jardin
And rode a vaporetto for the ride.

Hot and sweaty in Rome
We thought it time for home
And looked forward to the weary journey back,
We’d seen wonderful things
But the memory that clings is
the Black Forest isn’t really black.


So what did our travels do for us? Well we enjoyed them at the time but I sometimes wonder if the things we saw gave us any lasting  (apart from being able to brag about them of course).

BRUSH OFF

Sorry for the hiatus in blogs but we have both been taking advantage of the NHS
for a while. We should last ‘til Easter with a bit of luck. In the meantime here’s a bit
of nonsense to go with the rest--- a prose poem if you like;-

BRUSH OFF
    It was your hair that did it. I’m usually shy but seeing you under the beach shower rinsing the sea from that cascade of copper and gold made me bold and you didn’t seem to mind when I offered to dry it though you said it would dry soon enough in that heat but you let me buy you an ice cream and when I said that your hair was beautiful you said that you were thinking of having it cut as it could be a nuisance which made me sad and I quoted from Corinthians one chapter eleven verse fifteen “if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her and you said that that sounds as if it was written by a man who didn’t have to look after it and worry about finding the right conditioner and stop it getting in his food and everywhere and I just wanted to weave it through my fingers and bury my face in it and luckily we sat next to each other on the plane coming back and a strand or two brushed my cheek and I told you about Baudelaire having a thing about hair and you asked if he was some kind of pervert and you couldn’t wait to get back and go to some decent shops and your nails needed doing again before you went to the disco awards but you agreed to see me when we got back which made me so excited or over the moon as you would say but I waited over an hour tonight and when you didn’t arrive I rang your number and your mother told me that you said that you were very sorry for not turning up but you were washing your hair.
     

                Frank B



                Frank B

RECYCLING

As a youth I spent many hours with my friends in a tiny coffee shop next to the
'Man and Scythe' pub in Church gate, Bolton. We put the world to rights and
philosophised (?) on the meaning of life, and we may have mentioned girls once
or twice. We, or at least I, came to the conclusion that the meaning of life was life itself and many years later after reading several wise men's opinions on the subject ' I  came out by the same door as in I went'. The only philosopher who makes sense to me is Schopenhauer though he calls the life-force The Will'. So giving me a theme for a light-hearted poem. (For a poem on the same theme but written by a proper poet see 'The Force That Through The Green Fuse Drives The Flower'
by Dylan Thomas.)
As for ’ Immortality ' I’m with Bart Kosko who wrote in ‘Fuzzy Thinking’ ;-
‘ Molecules assemble and disassemble an atom or two at a time’

RECYCLING
by
Frank Bryce

Kosko knew with Schopenhauer
That we’re all one with the cauliflower,
the crocodile, the mountain goat
and trees and grass and things that float
and things that sink and things that stink
(Unpleasant though the thought may be)
we’re supposed to live in harmony

And when our atoms start to disperse
to be assembled by that half-wit child
they say is in charge of the Universe
(unsupervised by a responsible nurse)
The free floating atoms drive him berserk
and as he’s fond of metalwork
he could turn our molecules and individual quarks
into Memorial busts in Royal Parks
Or maybe into an old fashioned pub
(The Duck and Trumpet to name the worst)
Just beware when you slake your thirst
you could be drinking Charles the First.

The world’s gone mad I think you’ll agree
When philosophers who seem at first sight rational
Re-formed could win next year’s Grand National.

And if you think this is all a joke
Just refer to this Kosko bloke
who gives examples by the score
that everything he says is true
and not so very long ago
You were him and he was you.

PROMISE OF IMMORTALITY

Some time ago on a visit to a Pharmacy (what I still from old habit call the Chemists) I noticed a shelf filled with 'natural remedies' which, on reading the bumf promised relief from all known ailments from baldness via impotence to in-growing toenails.
They had wonderful names which I noted and later arranged in a sort of poem which
is ideal for reading aloud. I usually put the main accent on the first syllable of each line which produces a nice rhythm and a sort of music. I called it;-

PROMISE OF IMMORTALITY (by Frank Bryce)

Borage and liquorice
couch grass and cornsilk
butcher's broom and
devil's claw

Chitosan complex
calendula
agnus castus and
star flower oil

Iron and calcium
zinc and magnesium
chromium, selenium and
golden seal

Elderflower and garlic
buckwheat and ginger
astrogalus and
chamomile

Dandelion and burdock
motherwort and garlick
cod liver oil and
white willow bark

Hyssop, jojoba
eucalyptus, yucca
chasteberry, lemon grass and
juniper oil

Milk thistle, mandarin
vetivert and sesame
black cohosh and
oil of bergamot

Nettle cleavers
uva ursi
royal jelly and
OMEGA 3