Neopoet

Fri, 2014-11-14 17:07

Hi

It's a poem set in nature but which uses nature to convey a message other than nature. Think in terms of Frost's "Road Less Traveled"...........stan

author comment

Fri, 2014-11-14 14:22

Stan

You can count me in my number is 42, is a pastoral poem with a secondary level a poem about where a peat bog has trees and things growing on it now???
I, Ian . T, promise to behave in the future (Maybe)
Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Fri, 2014-11-14 17:09

hi

It can start that way but it would then have to use the bog's change to also convey something else........stan

author comment

Fri, 2014-11-14 15:26

I will await your response to

I will await your response to queries by Carrie and Ian about what you mean by a pastoral poem...an example would help comprehend what is expected by participants to this contest...i would like to win it as long as your hand writing is legible..lol.....

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

Fri, 2014-11-14 17:16

hi

Pastoral is a generally peaceful poem having to do with nature or country living. By secondary meaning I mean the poem should have an underlying message which uses the pastoral setting to convey. As above think Frost's "Road less Traveled" or even my "In Winter's Deep". Or just Google Pastoral Poetry for other examples. My handwriting is terrible except when I take my time...which I will

author comment

Fri, 2014-11-14 19:36

Stan

I think that I have written many of these type of poems, where I go into the woods and find that peace and understanding. Other than seeing the trees I see the feelings projected and the comfort to other ways the trees give me.
A transposition of actual being, from a physical tree to a thought.
This must be the other level you have in mind when you have said about a secondary meaning.
The Hills and valleys what ever can become twined with many things on many levels, this workshop should bring some beautiful poetry.
Yours as always, Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Sat, 2014-11-15 20:19

Hi Ian

Sounds as if you have the right idea. Forests and country living are both rife with stuff which can be used as metaphors for the human condition

author comment

andrew

Sun, 2014-11-16 19:53

Terrific

Thanks for taking this on! Let us know if you want to do this in any "official" capacity too.

Mon, 2014-11-17 09:43

A place to go.

With a reflection of a comment by Esker:-
To me the forest is profane and pure...no humanity
to excess in there.....the spiritual power enormous
after a few minutes or hour in my little wood
nearby...paths..cyclists..walkers..runners..always
seeing or hearing others about up there....
still....its been saving my ass lately..
Although I haven't gone in almost two months..

Esker, This is for you to think on, I hope it holds up to your thoughts, Ian.T

A place to go

There in my way was a wooded glade
From virulent green to autumns shade
It arrived this morning as if newly grown
The trees many colours felt for me alone

The sky above a beautiful azure blue
What more crossed my path anew?
The afterlife was having a good laugh
A chuckle came infesting my new path

"We hear you within your troubled ways
You left the path of life for many days.
We have made a sanctuary for you to find
Where you can regain your peace of mind."

“Walk within our shade and be at peace,
“Here you can fathom what gives you grief”
A thousand things just crossed my mind,
They became sorted, rubbish left behind.

I felt much lighter as I walked around
I even noticed the flowers, and bird sounds
"The air seems clearer as I walked with you
My heavy load gone, so nothing was true?"

I had in my way brought tears to each day
Yet couldn’t see how to be happy and play
Why did those feelings from all of you
Festoon my heart with a weights untrue.

The children that helped me said they knew,
Now I am free of not only me, but of you
They held me letting all the badness fly,
No reason anymore to just sit and cry.

Thank you children I thought turning for home
Their laughter and love held me when alone,
Why couldn’t I see this simple way before?
They laughed at me as I opened the door.

Saying” You think too much”

NB:- No trees were hurt in this peace J.S

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Mon, 2014-11-17 12:49

Hmmm.....

I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this but I think it would be best if the poems are posted with an addendum that it's for the contest and have nothing except that, title and poem. Also it wouldn't hurt to post the poem on stream also in order to gather comments there.

So far Ian is in the lead...but he's also in 2nd place and last place since his is the only poem here lol.

author comment

Mon, 2014-11-17 13:06

Stan

Although this is not down my alley I will definitely give it a go/ Let's see how it pans out ..but first i must get started with it before it's too late and i miss the bus..lol....

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

Mon, 2014-11-17 14:58

Stan

Believe it or not, a strange experience I had today. I scribbled a poem almost complete for the contest and wanted to have a fresh look at it again so before taking a preview i un checked the "published" box and to my dismay the while poem disappeared. I tried to use "undo" option but it didn't work. I will now have to re-write it again tomorrow and hope the words come back. I don't know of this has happened to anyone before.

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

Mon, 2014-11-17 16:24

Hey raj

Sounds like you have had an experience with "grimlins" lol. There have been times I'd post a poem from paper to here then upon completion forget to punch save.......aggravating to have to retype it. But at least i had the handwritten copy to go by. Maybe that's a lesson in the advantage of writing originals on paper instead of comp. Now you make me realize I need to put some type time frame up for this contest lol. So off to edit!........stan

author comment

Tue, 2014-11-18 11:50

Stan

surely a lesson learnt for sure..nit it was some glitch in the the submit a poem field which was responsible for the mess. Not sure if the right words would come back especially because i had worked hard on the rhyme part which is not at all my comfort zone..

Problem with first doing the poem on paper will not work for me because it would be hard for me to comprehend what I have written. It so happens that i write in english and it gets translated to Greek & latin..lol...

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

Tue, 2014-11-18 11:53

Andrew

has been notified and is working on this. He did some upgrades Sunday and this apparently happened then.

author comment

Tue, 2014-11-18 12:29

Good to know this and that it

Good to know this and that it was indeed not my fault.

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

Thu, 2014-11-20 16:19

All entrants

Please be sure to post your entry here as well as on stream so My lazy self can compare them easily.........stan

author comment

Rula

Sat, 2014-11-22 00:19

Palesting...My Love

The waftures tempt my heart, I think of thee.
Your murmurs lure to meet my comely one.
Air redolent summons the love in me
I stroll to bathe into your summer sun.

The sea, the shores, and every little shell,
the prayer calls evoke an endless love.
The thyme, the lime the grains of sand shall tell
how much I miss the petrichor thereof.

And yet, ephemeral the joy-evanescent.
The nemeses defeat in me the zeal.
Deprived, alike an orphan- mostly sent
a broken heart, I turn, no chance to heal.

The holy lands besieged, now for a while
no merriment, no soul to show a smile.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Please follow me on Instagram
https://instagram.com/poetry.jo?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

wesley snow

Fri, 2014-11-21 12:07

What contest?

Nobody tells me anything.
Looks like we should have a workshop on pastoral poetry.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

Fri, 2014-11-21 18:06

Now

you know how I feel lol. Join in. The prize is paltry but it should be fun

author comment

wesley snow

Fri, 2014-11-21 18:19

Here is my submission.

It is an older one I rather liked.

Echoes

I lay awake a night of squalling rain
and list for that I heard once long ago,
of pipe and string that plied a mournful strain,
an Elfish song of sorrow, sage and slow.

‘Twas heard by me the first when but a child,
a song of ruthe amidst a nameless storm.
Though lyricless it spoke of faith defiled
and false respect that took a heinous form.

Strange tears I shed that cold and anxious night.
The song was as a shaft that sought my heart
and I could feel refrains of lonesome flight.
Their nocturne quavered, they would soon depart.

Why would they play in such, these minstrels fey
and near, so near, to open window mine?
What magic spell they plied I cannot say,
but I do not forget that graced design.

And so I listen when the evening wind
is full of rain in hopes to ken the tune.
But I, full well, know all they shall rescind
when Faerie flees Man’s drear and graying moon.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

Sat, 2014-11-22 11:59

Man

Ya;ll are making it tough on me to judge....i love it lol!....Indeed I'm now inspired to write a poem on why I'm unfit to be a judge. It'll likely take a spell to get the entire list down..........stan

author comment

Sat, 2014-11-22 11:58

"He Who Would Judge"

I have read all the entries
while sitting here beneath a light
taking all the time I can.
I sure do wish you all could write!

This one here? It just won't work.
(I know the author's politics)
and he must really be a jerk.
His ideas give me nervous tics.

And this one only has near rhyme;
I guess the writer must be lazy
and thus is hardly worth my time.
I reckon that he thinks I'm crazy.

And here lies a bold typo!
And although the pom is good
I can't allow carelessness so.....
I toss it out just like I should.

This one is a damned free verse!
The poet cannot read directions
which makes sit and softly curse
sending me into introspections.

This one has no punctuation,
a bit of a pet peeve of mine,
so it's sent to its damnation.
I'll let it wither on the vine.

This one has a bad mizpel,
that one a pretty bad rhythm stumble.
Both of them can go to hell.
as I site here and stew and mumble.

I sit and read and fume and read.
Nobody here writes quite as well as me.
They enter contests for fame and greed.
None are as perfect as me.

The widowed door is opened with a squeak.
I rise and see the orderly.
I stare at him, he doesn't speak.
I'm just another patient, see.

He leads me from the padded room,
it's time some more memories are lost
which leads to further skill set's doom.
I keep screaming "I'm Robert Frost, I'm Robert Frost!"

**the opinions stated by the protagonist don't necessarily reflect those of the author***

keep those entries coming in

author comment

Rula

Sat, 2014-11-22 15:41

Hahahah

That brought a smile Stan but I am happy you've added that last line..

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Please follow me on Instagram
https://instagram.com/poetry.jo?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Sat, 2014-11-22 20:56

hello

I figure I had to make it clear that I do not consider myself to be the best poet here. Wouldn't want any letter bombs arriving lol

author comment

wesley snow

Sat, 2014-11-22 16:09

You are, like, totally out of control.

It's a masterful poem of great pathos and depth. It's allegories alone are mind twisting.
A great work.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

Sat, 2014-11-22 20:58

ME?????

out of control?!? Maybe just a tiny bit but I'll blame it on bronchitis meds lol

author comment

Sat, 2014-11-22 18:42

Stan

A great write but where are the trees have you cut them down and put them on your fire??? lol
Good to see the humour spreading out, you said..
I want a pastoral poem with a secondary level
Length------no more than 34 lines,
I am not sure if some think that Pastoral is words from a vicar ???
Can be a new poem or a poem previously written, Waiting to see who qualifies LOL
Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Sat, 2014-11-22 20:53

The above poem is Not an entry

It's just an example of what judging a poetry contest can do to a person lol. And ALL entries qualify for the contest but only the ones which follow directions are eligeble for winning such WONDERFUL prizes.

author comment

Sun, 2014-11-23 03:34

Stan

I look forward with Baited breath to find out the prizes for our poetic marvels.
I could always send the winner a book or if the prize is a book it can be a good one but sent to the next winner each time and the signatures of the winners can be entered as they receive the prize to read, will look into it from the book point of view ???
Yours Ian

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Sun, 2014-11-23 16:03

Ian

I have already listed the paltry prizes to be awarded the winner of this contest......which might explain the low number of entries. But I'll list them yet again :1. A white quartz American Indian (likely Cherokee) arrowhead I found one day. 2. A wing feather from a wild eastern turkey. 3. One handwritten poem of mine (winner's choice of which poem).

author comment

Sun, 2014-11-30 09:49

Hi

Today (Sunday) is the last day to enter this contest so if you've been thinking about it you need to think fast lol........stan

author comment