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PLAYFUL POESY

By Nirmaldasan
(nirmaldasan@hotmail.com)

-- Web-published February 2017 --

Poetic Prose
(You have my word)

Think about this trilogy. First came Rocking Pegasus, in which my Muse was upon a rocking horse. And then came Literary Trivia & Curiosities, in which the rocking horse metamorphosed into a rocking chair. After many years, in February 2017, soars Playful Poesy with wings of wax.

Paradise Lost In Seven Tweets

1/7 Eve arose.
2/7 Adam was asleep.
3/7 She went for a walk.
4/7 She ate an apple.
5/7 She gave Adam a bite.
6/7 He tasted it happily.
7/7 God declared them sinners.
Chess Clerihew
Judit Polgar
Is a twinkling star.
Her moves entrap and entrance
The victim in a checkmating dance!
Chess Limerick
World champion was Gary Kasparov,
All were afraid of his every move!
Though he touch’d a piece and said no
And even once slamm’d a door,
Chess goddess Caissa loves Kasparov!

(Alternative ending: The chess world worships Kasparov!)
Auden Tanka
The Auden Tanka has only six lines
Which don’t rhyme at all.
All the odd lines have seven words,
The even lines have five.
The words may be short or polysyllabic
Expressing poetic feeling or thought.
Score Verse
We know a score is twenty,
So score verse simply is:
Twenty letters to a line,
Not a letter more or less.
Ev’ry line obeys the rule,	
Every line such as these: 
So score verse simply is,
Score verses simply are:
Twenty letters to a line,
Not a letter less or more.
Free Verse: The Mango Weevil
A mango weevil laid an egg 
in a flower. 
It looked at its shadow 
in the river below 
and flew away.

When the egg hatched, 
the flower had already 
become a fruit 
and so the young weevil 
was trapped in the seed.

The mango ripened 
and fell into the river 
and floated on and on … 
down the hill 
and through the fields 
and sandy plains … 
and into the sea.

There it was caught 
in a fisherman’s net. 
The fisherman sliced the fruit 
and the weevil flew out 
of the seed. 

But is the weevil really free? 
The poor creature 
is sick at sea 
and flies to and fro 
knowing not that its home is far away.
Visual Verse
               dis-
          placed
w  e  e  v  i  l
Echo Verse: The Displaced Weevil
Voice: I’ll sing a song of weevil
 Echo: Evil
Voice: In evil hour weevil trapped 
 Echo: Our weevil trapped
Voice: Within the seed
 Echo: In the seed
Voice: Fate bade the mango
 Echo: Go!
Voice: And the mango went you know
 Echo: No
Voice: Dropped from tree freely
 Echo: Really
Voice: Into the stream and sea
 Echo: See!
Voice: Behold the fisherman!
 Echo: Hold the fisherman!
Voice: Too late …
 Echo: Ate
Voice: Like an oaf ate
 Echo: Fate
Voice: But the weevil flies free
 Echo: Flies free?
Voice: May be no  
 Echo: Know
Voice: By Fate its world is placed
 Echo: Well displaced
Voice: Well, the weevil -- it flies!
 Echo: Ill it flies!
Voice: Can we save the weevil?
 Echo: We will!
Voice: If there’s a wee will
 Echo: Weevil
Voice: Thereof lies a way
 Echo: Flies away!
Transliteration
(of my untranslateable Tamil verse)
Uppu uppu.
Enna uppu?
Kal uppu.	
Enna kal?
Valiba kal.
Enna valibam?
Azhagu valibam.
Enna azhagu?
Kattazhagu.
Enna katta?
Nattu kattai.
Enna nadu?
Nanjai nadu.
Enna nanjai?
Alavu nanjai.
Enna alavu?
Adi alavu.
Enna adi?
Dharma adi!
Quantitative Feet
(slow is half note, quick is quarter note)
Slow-slow	
Slow-quick
Quick-slow
Quick-quick
Slow-slow-slow
Slow-slow-quick
Slow-quick-slow
Quick-slow-slow	
Quick-quick-quick
Quick-quick-slow
Quick-slow-quick
Slow-quick-quick
Quantitative Paradox
(Proves the impossibility of quantitative verse in English)
Slow-quick-quick, quick-quick-slow
Short is long, long is short

(short has a long vowel, long has a short vowel, according to the Concise Oxford Dictionary)

Poetic Puzzle 1
(Fill the blanks with vowels a e i o u y or gaze at consonantal beauty)

Wh_n  _  w_k_  _p  fr_m _  h_t  s_mm_r  n_ght,
S_  h_t  th_t  _  h_d  sl_pt  _n  m_  _nd_rw_ _r,
Th_  h_ _t  h_d  m_lt_d  _ll  th_  w_rld's  _c_,
_nd  _  w_k_  _p  w_th  _  p_l_r  b_ _r. 
Solution To PP1
(T. Ashwin Kumar’s ‘Waking Up With A Polar Bear’)
When I woke up from a hot summer night,
So hot that I had slept in my underwear,
The heat had melted all the world's ice,
And I woke up with a polar bear. 
Poetic Puzzle 2
(Fill the blanks with consonants or gaze at vocalic beauty)
_ _e_  I  _ _a_ _  _ _u_ _ _e  o_  _i_e’_  _o_ _,
A_ _  _a_ _  u_o_  _y  _i_ _e_  _a_e_ _,
_ _e_  _ _a_ _  _o_  _y  _ _ou _ _ _ _  _o_ _
_y  _ou_  _ _i_ _  _ie_ _  _i_ _o_ _e_ _.
Solution To PP2
(Nirmaldasan’s ‘Dejection’)
When I shall stumble on Time’s rock,
And fall upon my hidden talent,
Then shall not my thoughts mock
My soul which lieth discontent.
Poetic Puzzle 3
(The words of each line are arranged in alphabetical order)
and canna eat hae meat some
and eat it some that wad want
and but can eat hae meat we we
and be Lord sae thankit the
Solution To PP3
(Robert Burns’s ‘The Selkirk Grace’)
Some hae meat, and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.  
Acrostic Cento
(Lines taken from several of Willard R. Espy’s verses in Words To Rhyme With to spell his name and form a montage)

White is the snow upon the parapets
I left when you began to tell the truth
Let's clink glasses, my brother, and toss back a snoot
Look here, you nincompoop – it took
A Concept sub-atomical
Reviles the current POTUS*
Dismissed it as a bit of fluff

Rage safe in arms of rampage lies

Each intent on his affair
She added lovers not as you and I add
Parthenogenesis they swore
You laid sweet ambush to my brain

*An acronym: President Of The United States

Magic Crosswords
(Whether you read across or down, the list of words is the same)

G O
O N

A T E
T H E
E E L

T H E Y
H A V E
E V I L
Y E L L

O L I V E
L I N E N
I N E R T
V E R V E
E N T E R 
Parody: Papa Won’t Preach
(Apologies to Madonna and the lyricists)
Medo you know I was already upset
’Cause you were always my little girl
And I do know by Jove
You’re not a baby

I never taught you right from wrong
You need no help, Maddy please be strong
You sure are young at heart
And I know what I’m saying

The one I warn’d you all about
The one I said you could do without
You’re in an awful mess, and I don’t mean maybe -- please

[chorus]

Papa won’t preach, I’m in trouble fool
Papa won’t preach, I’ve been losing cool 
Glad you made up your mind, you’re keeping your baby, oh
You’re gonna keep your baby, mmm …

I hope that he’s going to marry you
And raise a little family too
Maybe you’ll be all right
Not a sacrifice

Though your friends keep telling you to give it up
Saying you’re too young, you ought to live it up
What you need right now is some good advice, please

[chorus]

Maddy, Maddy if you could only see
Just how hard you’ve been treating me
You’d ask him to marry right now
’Cause you have lost your virginity, so please 

[chorus]

Papa won’t preach, I’m in trouble fool
Papa won’t preach, I’ve been losing cool 
[repeat]

Oh, you’re gonna keep your baby, ooh
No, can’t stop loving you Maddy
I know, I’ll cradle your baby
The Shorter ‘Waste Land’
(Apologies to T.S. Eliot and none to Ezra Pound)
April is the cruellest month.
That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe
With a wicked pack of cards.
[Seven eight lay them straight.]
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be careful these days.

The time is now propitious, as he guesses,
The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,
Endeavours to engage her in caresses
Which still are unreproved, if undesired
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
Exploring hands encounter no defence;
His vanity requires no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference.

When lovely woman stoops to folly
And paces about her room again, alone,
She smoothes her hair with automatic hand,
And puts a record on the gramophone.

[One two
Remove your shoe
Three four
Shut the door
Five six
Choose your chicks
Seven eight 
Lay them straight
Nine ten
Come again]

To Carthage I came
Burning burning burning
O Lord thou pluckest me out
O Lord thou pluckest
Burning

What is that sound high in the air?
Murmur of maternal lamentation. 

Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell
And the profit and loss.
			A current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.

The boat responded
Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar
The sea was calm, your heart would have responded
Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
To controlling hands.  
    
Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water.
Your shadow at morning striding behind you.
And your shadow at evening rising to meet you.

Shall I at least set my land in order?

Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.
Shantih shantih shantih
Farewell
Adieu! Adieu!
The wax is melting fast
Adieu! Adieu!
Pegasus soon will fall with me
And rock on and on
Adieu! Adieu!
But I find it’s only a sleep
Upon a rocking chair
To dream on and on
Adieu! Adieu!

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