Altmania!

[GuiltyPleasure]

Oh, sorry. I've been distracted lately.

This poem, by sad hoc (brilliant name, BTW)

Ten weeks later

Johnnie boy treads bare footed,
ten toes squiggles wet sand for perfect skip stones
hidden just beneath the smooth grains.

He says it'll make her day to see
the flat surface sky ripple
as his messages bounce by
where she lays.

We all wait for the next chapter;

the growing up,
denoucing tooth fairies and Marvel comics
and swallowing the bitter pill
that she's not down there,
they drained the pond right away,
pulled muddy, pale limbs through the reed.

The stones skip well today,
four - five - six clear splashes,
before ending in a duck descent streak
and sinking,

to where she's not.​

is actually by Liar. Or MinorMonster, take your pick.

I'll post the next one later this evening, if I get a chance. Forgot the bonus round as well. Sheesh. Sorry I'm slow. My Tony AV is making me lightheaded. Too much Coke®, perhaps.

I'm very flattered that I could be mistaken for liar/minimon.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

The Departed

Boston blood is spilled
by New York’s finest
in a fiction thick as thieves

filled with complexities
of conscience and guilt
layered like fallen leaves

stripped and shed from trees,
whipped by season’s winds
and life’s cruel vagaries

the departed’s colors freeze
once green, turn yellow red gold
til brown is all we see

Hmmm....let's see. Baseball, obvious bias, tree references. My guess is e.e.

 

[Tzara]

Altmania: Bonus Round!

Here are two poems by someone who is not a regular at the PDF, who instead hangs in the AH. Makes guessing him or her difficult, right? Why it's the bonus round, people. Also why this clue: the author of these two ditties is one of the people listed in the AH Directory. (Hope that works. I usually thread my posts backwards. Heh.) This person had suggested using a clew (that's one right there) like "hatted AH" but they've changed their AV since.

Devious twerp.

Anyway, you get this one, I really do owe you a prize. Good luck, kiddies:

Free Verse

I’ll be curt and terse: I hate free verse
My poetry without rhyme a waste of my time
I’ll even be frank; I detest verse that is blank
Unless – this I confess, it isn’t just a mess.
It seems that free verse gets worse and worse
Art that’s unconfined needs a subtle mind
The brain of Homer, or some ancient moaner
Regretting glories past, or reliving a fast.
Poetry requires skill, say what you will
Shape and rhyme, even metre no crime
Yet in this exercise, all must I exorcise
Trying to prove all, to gain tutor’s approval.


Basic ABC

A blank: can’t do every former goal.
Help. I’ll juxtapose kind little metrical norms
Or produce quaint really sterile triolets:
Unusual voices warning
Xenophobic youthful zeros.​

 

[Sara Crewe]

Here are two poems by someone who is not a regular at the PDF, who instead hangs in the AH. Makes guessing him or her difficult, right? Why it's the bonus round, people. Also why this clue: the author of these two ditties is one of the people listed in the AH Directory. (Hope that works. I usually thread my posts backwards. Heh.) This person had suggested using a clew (that's one right there) like "hatted AH" but they've changed their AV since.

Devious twerp.

Anyway, you get this one, I really do owe you a prize. Good luck, kiddies:

Free Verse

I’ll be curt and terse: I hate free verse
My poetry without rhyme a waste of my time
I’ll even be frank; I detest verse that is blank
Unless – this I confess, it isn’t just a mess.
It seems that free verse gets worse and worse
Art that’s unconfined needs a subtle mind
The brain of Homer, or some ancient moaner
Regretting glories past, or reliving a fast.
Poetry requires skill, say what you will
Shape and rhyme, even metre no crime
Yet in this exercise, all must I exorcise
Trying to prove all, to gain tutor’s approval.


Basic ABC

A blank: can’t do every former goal.
Help. I’ll juxtapose kind little metrical norms
Or produce quaint really sterile triolets:
Unusual voices warning
Xenophobic youthful zeros.​

That one is, Oggbashan.

 

[Tzara]

That one is, Oggbashan.

Aw shit, Ms. Crewe.

That was supposed to be hard. Smart ass.

 

[Sara Crewe]

Aw shit, Ms. Crewe.

That was supposed to be hard. Smart ass.

Smart ass? I would be offended if that weren't the third time today that someone called me that...

So um, what's my prize Mr. T?

 

[Tzara]

Smart ass? I would be offended if that weren't the third time today that someone called me that...

So um, what's my prize Mr. T?

A glorious night with me at the Hotel Ritz?

Maybe not. You have a PM, dearie. Go read it.

 

[Sara Crewe]

A glorious night with me at the Hotel Ritz?

Maybe not. You have a PM, dearie. Go read it.

Geez, you wave glorious nights in front of my nose and then just swipe it when my nose gets close to the glass.

A much better prize for me would be to take no prize at all and just permamently razz you about never giving me a prize. You know, kinda transition from smart ass to pain in the ass.

 

[Tzara]

Geez, you wave glorious nights in front of my nose and then just swipe it when my nose gets close to the glass.

A much better prize for me would be to take no prize at all and just permamently razz you about never giving me a prize. You know, kinda transition from smart ass to pain in the ass.

Hey! That was a real offer. Plane ticket and everything.

Can't guarantee the "glorious" part, though. You experience may vary.

I do know a good restaurant near there, though. Fabulous veal stew.

I don't know about "pain in the ass". Would "thorn in the side" do?

 

[champagne1982]

Geez, you wave glorious nights in front of my nose and then just swipe it when my nose gets close to the glass.

A much better prize for me would be to take no prize at all and just permamently razz you about never giving me a prize. You know, kinda transition from smart ass to pain in the ass.

could you record the moment he goes "Ouch!" for posteriority? .. eerm. prosterity?

 

[oggbashan]

That one is, Oggbashan.

I didn't expect to be found out so soon.

Was it the clues, or the 'poetry'?

Og

 

[Tzara]

I didn't expect to be found out so soon.

Was it the clues, or the 'poetry'?

Og

You only lasted eight minutes, Og. New record.

 

[Sara Crewe]

I didn't expect to be found out so soon.

Was it the clues, or the 'poetry'?

Og

I lurk in the AH when I am procrastinating about my writing and there isn't anyone 'round the PFD so it was both the clues and the poetry. You were the only AH person I could remember ever mentioning that you didn't like free verse. The hat clue just sealed the deal.




And Tzara? You can call me Rose from now on and if we are going to be spend a night at the Ritz together you should know that I am a closet vegetarian who doesn't eat veal or lamb.

 

[champagne1982]

I lurk in the AH when I am procrastinating about my writing and there isn't anyone 'round the PFD so it was both the clues and the poetry. You were the only AH person I could remember ever mentioning that you didn't like free verse. The hat clue just sealed the deal.




And Tzara? You can call me Rose from now on and if we are going to be spend a night at the Ritz together you should know that I am a closet vegetarian who doesn't eat veal or lamb.

oh my... veggie sausage

edited to add: Or how about a carrot? ...

 

[Liar]

I didn't expect to be found out so soon.

Was it the clues, or the 'poetry'?

Og

It was the cake on your head.

 

[Liar]

I'm very flattered that I could be mistaken for liar/minimon.

And likewise back. My scribblings were believed to be from some of Lit's finest. That warms me hearty to hear.

 

[Tzara]

And Tzara? You can call me Rose from now on and if we are going to be spend a night at the Ritz together you should know that I am a closet vegetarian who doesn't eat veal or lamb.

There's a good Italian restaurant just off the Place Vendôme, Rosie. Pasta in red sauce and a nice Burgundy?

 

[champagne1982]

The Departed

Boston blood is spilled
by New York’s finest
in a fiction thick as thieves

filled with complexities
of conscience and guilt
layered like fallen leaves

stripped and shed from trees,
whipped by season’s winds
and life’s cruel vagaries

the departed’s colors freeze
once green, turn yellow red gold
til brown is all we see

I wonder if this is TRM trying to fool us with his use of end rhyme and form? That's my guess P.C. aka TheRainMan.

 

[oggbashan]

I lurk in the AH when I am procrastinating about my writing and there isn't anyone 'round the PFD so it was both the clues and the poetry. You were the only AH person I could remember ever mentioning that you didn't like free verse. The hat clue just sealed the deal...

Congratulations. I've restored the cake on head AV.

Sometimes I get worried about how much people remember. In all my posts I think I mentioned free verse once...

Of course, posts can be searched. Four years of posts - I don't remember everything I've written. Does anyone?

Unlike George Orwell's 1984 when history was being constantly rewritten to fit with each new reality, whatever you posted on the internet at any time cannot be deleted completely. Someone, somewhere will have a copy.

Every post is there somewhere. Those you posted after reflection; those you posted in anger, in irritation, by mistake; those you posted drunk; sober; happy; sad. Everything is there as if held by the Recording Angel.

What will you feel like in 50 years time when your grandchildren can read every post you made when you were their age?

Or will the sheer volume hide our indiscretions?

Og

 

[Sara Crewe]

I like the cake, Og. I wouldn't worry about posts. I think I have a bizarre memory which really only comes in handy when playing Trivial Pursuit and replaying past converstations/posts.





T-man, you gotta date. Unless, you really wanted that veal stew. If so I would be happy to watch you eat. That's always fun for me too ina twisted sorta way.

Congratulations. I've restored the cake on head AV.

Sometimes I get worried about how much people remember. In all my posts I think I mentioned free verse once...

Of course, posts can be searched. Four years of posts - I don't remember everything I've written. Does anyone?

Unlike George Orwell's 1984 when history was being constantly rewritten to fit with each new reality, whatever you posted on the internet at any time cannot be deleted completely. Someone, somewhere will have a copy.

Every post is there somewhere. Those you posted after reflection; those you posted in anger, in irritation, by mistake; those you posted drunk; sober; happy; sad. Everything is there as if held by the Recording Angel.

What will you feel like in 50 years time when your grandchildren can read every post you made when you were their age?

Or will the sheer volume hide our indiscretions?

Og

 

[clutching_calliope]

The Departed

Boston blood is spilled
by New York’s finest
in a fiction thick as thieves

filled with complexities
of conscience and guilt
layered like fallen leaves

stripped and shed from trees,
whipped by season’s winds
and life’s cruel vagaries

the departed’s colors freeze
once green, turn yellow red gold
til brown is all we see

Whoever wrote this deserves a round of applause, well done. I don't think it's TRM as I rarely see him rhythm, rhyme and the Charleston Cha Cha (unless he is fooling ).

I'm going to guess my buddy from Boston, Tathagata.

 

[Tzara]

I'm heading out of town tomorrow, but assuming I have Internet access, I will put up the next contestant and reveal our current author.

Get those guesses in, folks. Thanks for playing.

 

[MinorMonster]

based on absoluterly nothing more than a hunch, I'd like to gurss that The Departed is a Fool creation.

 

[annaswirls]

I'm very flattered that I could be mistaken for liar/minimon.

I was thinking the same thing!!!

I am dreadfully behind on this challenge thread, will try to jump in on the right train....

 

[Tzara]

Well, we need to be moving along. Our most recent Altmania poem, by Goodfella:

The Departed

Boston blood is spilled
by New York’s finest
in a fiction thick as thieves

filled with complexities
of conscience and guilt
layered like fallen leaves

stripped and shed from trees,
whipped by season’s winds
and life’s cruel vagaries

the departed’s colors freeze
once green, turn yellow red gold
til brown is all we see​

turns out to have been written by tuntied2u, who is apparently a Scorsese fan.

Good guesses, folks, but I think they were all incorrect.

New contestant up shortly.