Shall I Compare Thee To A Mooseburger aka The Bad Poetry Thread

[KarlTenBrew]

Here I am seeking a name
for a form of poetry
which has been unknownst, for lame
to be seven squared.
Seven lines of just seven
syllables, so iambic?
Perhaps.  Rhyming? Still unkown.

[Blaze]

The closest I can think of off hand is the Septolet is a poem consisting of seven lines containing fourteen words with a break in between the two parts.  Both parts deal with the same thought and create a picture.  Oh and the Rhyme Royal A consisting of stanzas having seven lines in iambic pentameter.
   

[KarlTenBrew]

Iambic pentameter
does not quite work for this here
idea.  For seven lines
of fourteen syllables does
not seven by seven make.
So if only fourty-nine,
free flowing or strict line time?



Really, I think of the form like a sonnet: the syllabic structure is always the same, but the rhyming requirements change [see the difference between a Shakesperean and Italian sonnet].  Potential schemes:
a-b-c-d-e-f-g
a-b-c-d-c-b-a
a-a-b-b-b-c-c [c could also be a]
a-a-a-b-c-c-c [where c is neither a nor b]
a-b-a-b-a-b-a
a-b-b-a-b-b-a
etc.  So many possibilties!  That also leads to the question: you could define it by flow instead of rhyme.  Or simply be like haiku: a picture-thought that simply has the number of lines with their number of syllables.  I'd name them 'septic', but that's been taken and has a rather negative connotation   I think I'll refer to them as septisyllabic septets for strict accuracy of defining the form for now.

[Yeratel]

"There once was a man from Madras"

The word "Madras" has so many possibilities in limericks.

There is a young girl in Madras,
Who has a magnificent ass.
Not rounded and pink,
As you probably think,
But gray, with long ears, and eats grass.

[Blaze]

lol

[Ms Duck]

for far far too long
this threads been quiet
so ill hum up a song
ya want it? Buy it!

for a sow's ear
old man cursed
shall never make
a silk lined purse

but look, Duck said
youll never ever finda
better leather sleepy bed
then from elephants vagina

 

[Ms Duck]

ther once was a Ducky rump
that gave this thread a bump
now do the time
post out a rhyme
or ill pound you all into a lump

[j3nnee]

I've said it before
I'll say it again
Don't live in my apts
They're not a bargain

They leak and they groan
The floor boards are weak
The lights oft go out
And light dost thou seek

It's cold and it's drafty
The neighbors are loud
And if you're not careful
Your sanity is cowed

So don't come this way
Go live somewhere else
Don't be my neighbor
Cause this place won't sell

[Ms Duck]

J3nnee perk up your jowls
dont throw in your towels
if they leaks and groans
have peaks and moans
Rejoice! you dwell in Fowl's Bowells

[Ms Duck]

with anguish, I have cogitate
done with which, I aggravate
"SAM does suck"
screams out duck
damn witch bitch I acriminate!

[Blaze]

O!  J3nnee dear,
O!  J3nnee sweet,
Homeowners often
Have no heat.

O! J3nnee smile,
O! J3nne chile'
crashing down
came my ceiling tile.

My hubby glanced and what did he say?
"Load the car and let's run away...

I don't think workin' on the house is groovie,
So my sons and I are going to a movie.

I'll  give him a smack
Just as soon as he's back
but he won't take a whack
At that stack of tile!

At lest you can rail at your Mr. Hooper
I can't hate my hubby like some building super!

[Blaze]

Ms Duck asked me to Post my Entries for Bardic Competition somewhere, and since this the only poetry thread...  But there is a caveat!

It doesn't really meet our criterion for BAD POETRY.  So, I apologize in advance. 

East Kingdom Bardic Champions is held once a year, it is an SCA event.  When it is held close enough to where I live and if I am in the mood (or crazy enough) I enter.  I have even won.  But not this year.  This year's winners were so mind blowingly fabulous that I am glad that they beat me.  (We East Kingdom Bards are like that, a victory for one is really a victory for all!)

The topics were:  Round One:  Love.  Round Two: War  Round Three: A random request by the King and Queen off of your Bardic Resume. (Which I submitted under the title:  Bardic Resume 10WD40, the short form.)

[Blaze]

Mutable
_{By Alayne all right reserved ad inifinitum}

Love is transient, love remains
Love is losses, love is gains
Love comes softly, love grows loud
Love is single, love's a crowd.


When I was small and skinned my knee
My mother's love would comfort me.
When I was frightened or unsure
My mother's love for me was cure.


Love is transient, love remains
Love is losses, love is gains
Love comes softly, love grows loud
Love is single, love's a crowd.

When I reached an awkward age
Not unknowing, not quite sage
Love came to me leaps and bounds
In romping with my favorite hounds.

Love is transient, love remains
Love is losses, love is gains
Love comes softly, love grows loud
Love is single, love's a crowd.

As a maiden in flush first bud,
Love would boil in my blood,
For a handsome curve of thigh,
Who did not notice me pass by.

Love is transient, love remains
Love is losses, love is gains
Love comes softly, love grows loud
Love is single, love's a crowd.

So inward did my passions flow
And sought a deeper sort of glow
Flirting with staunch piety
Passion pure, was not for me.

Love is transient, love remains
Love is losses, love is gains
Love comes softly, love grows loud
Love is single, love's a crowd.

First in friendship, then in love
I found a hand slip in my glove
Staunch support, and ardent lips
And something magic at the hips.

Love is transient, love remains
Love is losses, love is gains
Love comes softly, love grows loud
Love is single, love's a crowd.

Then one day life within
A new love's chapter did begin
Someone helpless, someone small
Taught me the greatest love of all.

Love is transient, love remains
Love is losses love is gains
Love comes softly, love grows loud
Love is single, love's a crowd.

Here I stand, of love well versed,
Of love been vexed, of love been cursed.
Had love swell up within my breast,
Of love been filled, of love been blessed.

Love is transient, love remains
Love is losses, love is gains
Love comes softly, love grows loud
Love is single, love's a crowd.

[Blaze]

now the sad (war is sad always) poem:

the Ground
_{By Alayne all right reserved ad inifinitum}

The earth springs hard against my back,
The sky above me, is turning black,
Bright and brittle the stars they shine,
Will my sweetheart know to pine?
Will she miss me as she ought?
Where is the glory that once I sought?

I heard my horse, he charged away,
I heard the close and fervent fray,
I smelled the blood and felt the fear
And how I miss my mother, dear.
Will she miss me, as she ought?
Where is the glory that once I sought?

My brothers by my side that rode
Who honored, too chivalric code,
If only I could could turn my head
To see if they, like me, lay dead.
Will they miss me as they ought?
Where is the glory that once I sought?

My King, I hope my King still stands
To return from these foreign lands.
To go to where his people wait
I pray he does not share my fate.
Will he miss me as he ought?
Where is the glory that once I sought?

The coldness gathers and the dark
The fading of my once bright spark
All that I might, or could ever be
Has, with my blood, abandoned me.
Will they miss me as they ought?
Where is the glory that once I sought?

[Ms Duck]

wow! bravo! bravo!

what was the 10wd40 poem?