Sensual metaphors

just in case you don't know

NW Wolf said:
(Gentle Smile)... Waning Moons... Howling Timber Winds... Music to a Timber Wolf...(Gentle Smile)

maestro in a wind word meaning northwesternly winds...

http://ggweather.com/winds.html

thanks for letting me be your raptor...tis that male energy thing...I guess.. :D
 
thanks charley

CharleyH said:
MUCH BETTER! :rose: love the snake and you never say it, I bet in metaphor you dont even need chameleon or rainbow. Use your favourite book or poem in your second line - what is change? I am sure you have read .... Semiotics are plentiful metaphor - simile - icon try an index ;)

what if I change ying yang...
Chaos magic

can anyone ever really ever know
a chaos being....
one in morphic appearance
from dove to raptor
for all the world to see
as its
fathoms of light sheds
no depth
no width
nor height
nor center
but,
sees only its ME...

sweet charlie you do inspire...hums....
 
quietpoet said:
very clever lines champagne.
Effective in delivery as well. You must have spent time on such a superb metaphor.
Thank you for sharing with us...QP.. :)
Well, if you liked that one, you should check out this Just another erotic woowoo challenge from a long time back. D'mass and Angeline are the euphemistic royals.

And as an aside, I see an early visit to the forum by our one and only rumi ;) poet on that thread. Check it out ruminator fans.
 
Do we all see

the depth in the words you have harnessed? Vultures beware! Blue is on the prowl for wolves in poet's clothing!

bluerains said:
what if I change ying yang...
Chaos magic

can anyone ever really ever know
a chaos being....
one in morphic appearance
from dove to raptor
for all the world to see
as its
fathoms of light sheds
no depth
no width
nor height
nor center
but,
sees only its ME...

sweet charlie you do inspire...hums....
 
3 hail mary's and see me in the morning...

The tempest boils in this write... frothy, humming, feeling the passion of the nocturnal pulse... Wonderful write Blue!!!

QP


bluerains said:
waning moonlight
hangs on a nocturnal
skyscape

clouds blanket
pale changes in the
sea

everything is moving
in grey shadows
across harbor ridge bay

sounds of a distant
estuary faintly crooning
feathered ambience,
beacons her tapping
feet blurring the surface
of Sara's watery reflection

suddenly Sara's pristine seclusion
senses a sinister calm as
a howling timber wind
invades serenity

she dips her wings
into the Maestro and snatches
the beastly nyght

churning sea turns the color
of mud and
the tides devour
tempestuous gloom
of a starless night..
 
*wiping brow* whew, what a thread Blue! I love your imagery!

NW Wolf, not many are capable of pulling off second person pov but you do it well, and inspirationally.
 
champagne1982 said:
Well, if you liked that one, you should check out this Just another erotic woowoo challenge from a long time back. D'mass and Angeline are the euphemistic royals.

And as an aside, I see an early visit to the forum by our one and only rumi ;) poet on that thread. Check it out ruminator fans.


hey...;)...thanks for noticing.

That was my very first woowoo here.
 
ruminator said:
hey...;)...thanks for noticing.

That was my very first woowoo here.

Through the years of harvest seasons
She turned a chore into a pleasant trick and
there were many who knew her pleasured plowing
But crop rotation is best reserved for younger
fields which yield and are naiively more allowing.


thanks rumi...I was inspired by this image bite....and spun a blue tale..

blueviolet


lantern waxes
corded braids as
dimmed crow’s feet
glowing in mirrors
of captive hearts
clench violet seasons
fending extinction
of blue flames given
to souls who burn
wrinkles in time..
:rose:
 
wildsweetone said:
*wiping brow* whew, what a thread Blue! I love your imagery!

NW Wolf, not many are capable of pulling off second person pov but you do it well, and inspirationally.

(Gentle Smile)... over time I have tried to "Study Hard"... Thank you Wildsweetone... NW Wolf
 
bluerains said:
Through the years of harvest seasons
She turned a chore into a pleasant trick and
there were many who knew her pleasured plowing
But crop rotation is best reserved for younger
fields which yield and are naiively more allowing.


thanks rumi...I was inspired by this image bite....and spun a blue tale..

blueviolet


lantern waxes
corded braids as
dimmed crow’s feet
glowing in mirrors
of captive hearts
clench violet seasons
fending extinction
of blue flames given
to souls who burn
wrinkles in time..
:rose:


Mmm those wrinkles in time... I wonder if those are the treasures we find as we gaze in the mirror dancing with the lanterns lights trimmed in blue... (Gentle Smile)... NW Wolf...
 
NW Wolf said:
Mmm those wrinkles in time... I wonder if those are the treasures we find as we gaze in the mirror dancing with the lanterns lights trimmed in blue... (Gentle Smile)... NW Wolf...

You have a beautiful way with words wolf... :rose:
 
wildsweetone said:
*wiping brow* whew, what a thread Blue! I love your imagery!

NW Wolf, not many are capable of pulling off second person pov but you do it well, and inspirationally.

Thank you WildSweetOne... (Gentle Smile)... I tired to "Study Hard"... :rose:
 
hum....

NW Wolf said:
Mmm those wrinkles in time... I wonder if those are the treasures we find as we gaze in the mirror dancing with the lanterns lights trimmed in blue... (Gentle Smile)... NW Wolf...

treasured memories..holding into the nexus...I suppose...it works.. :eek:
 
You are the deepest

Writer on lit. This one even makes me look down below my dimmed crows feet... I love your writing Blue!

QP

bluerains said:
Through the years of harvest seasons
She turned a chore into a pleasant trick and
there were many who knew her pleasured plowing
But crop rotation is best reserved for younger
fields which yield and are naiively more allowing.


thanks rumi...I was inspired by this image bite....and spun a blue tale..

blueviolet


lantern waxes
corded braids as
dimmed crow’s feet
glowing in mirrors
of captive hearts
clench violet seasons
fending extinction
of blue flames given
to souls who burn
wrinkles in time..
:rose:
 
lady of honor

a candle burns for topaz blue
soul of woman spent anew
her sapphire breath is sea worn
walking down mans bejeweled path
pale rosary raised to Aphrodite for
her strength as Nemesis thirst
to be her first, last , and her only
alas,
yet another sigh
steals sceptres splendor
as death her crescendo of choice
steals another pretender

:cathappy:
 
great ending!

You should post this on your page... Excellent way of proclaiming victory over commonality!

qp

bluerains said:
a candle burns for topaz blue
soul of woman spent anew
her sapphire breath is sea worn
walking down mans bejeweled path
pale rosary raised to Aphrodite for
her strength as Nemesis thirst
to be her first, last , and her only
alas,
yet another sigh
steals sceptres splendor
as death her crescendo of choice
steals another pretender

:cathappy:
 
Quote:
Originally Posted by bluerains
a candle burns for topaz blue
soul of woman spent anew
her sapphire breath is sea worn
walking down mans bejeweled path
pale rosary raised to Aphrodite for
her strength as Nemesis thirst
to be her first, last , and her only
alas,
yet another sigh
steals sceptres splendor
as death her crescendo of choice
steals another pretender

very nice word selection.

;)


heya QP....how ya doing?
 
ruminator said:
very nice word selection.
ah..thanks rumi I know you beyond many understand the mother and her pain against the matrix...namaste ...dear friend...lol/blue
;)


heya QP....how ya doing?
:rose:
 
Hey Rumi!

How are you? I'm beating it up on the bad voting thread... I was working on a poem... but it is evading me right now!

qp
 
bluerains said:
a candle burns for topaz blue
soul of woman spent anew
her sapphire breath is sea worn
walking down mans bejeweled path
pale rosary raised to Aphrodite for
her strength as Nemesis thirst
to be her first, last , and her only
alas,
yet another sigh
steals sceptres splendor
as death her crescendo of choice
steals another pretender

:cathappy:

this is excellent.. thank you for the journey
du~
 
thanks water sister...

Du Lac said:
this is excellent.. thank you for the journey
du~
and rumi..
the mother is in a space of great turmoil...living on borrowed time...
 
Last edited:
am having trouble seeing this form of poem

and can it connect with an original idea of sensual metaphor...is there any nonce poetry with sensual overtones out here in lit...I wonder...so far John Donne is one of a few examples..but am more in line with free verse and how it works...I often use
long winding sentences...and am wondering if one can have a certain amount of words in one sentence to make it a nonce...also thanks...

http://www.thewritersezine.com/t-zero/archives/2004-texts/2004-09-poetics.shtml
Poetics

Jeanette Oestermyer

Will Metrics in Poetry be Reborn?
Try Creating a Personal Nonce Form
The twentieth century saw the inception of free verse as we know it (verse without meter). Yet, the idea that somewhere suspended in space is the perfect shape or form that will fit a particular subject matter. Then, the poet will be a hunter or scientist seeking the hidden form that will reveal a specific truth. As forms that have been used before would not be suitable, and meter, or (heaven forbid) rhyme would be a fake imposition by the poet on unrestricted truth.

So, enter the ‘nonce’ form, defined as a poetic form created for a specific poem, which may become widely used if it catches on and becomes a tool for other poets. Should one of these strange experimental forms gain popularity, it might be given a suitable name of its own and live on. Some of us have probably written a nonce form without realizing it. Some poets use a ‘nonce stanza’ in an otherwise known form. Will we, in the twenty-first century, return to a more metric poetry? I am not speaking of ‘nursery-rhyme’-type poetry, or poetry with a strict boring cadence, but an experimental metric scheme, probably called a nonce.

Poetry has developed on the one hand by using existing patterns, and on the other hand by adapting existing patterns into new patterns. One form that comes to mind is the sestina, a form that is traditionally unrhymed. The form also has a specified set of lines, and the end words of lines in the first stanza are used throughout but are arranged in a strict pattern. Within the last few years, the rhymed sestina has made its debut, and it is a true challenge to write. Some other forms such as the ode, which was originally rhymed, has come to be written in free verse also.

A poet who loves language will often experiment and create a form for a single idea that does not fit into any of the traditional forms. Finding your own form that does justice to your unique ideas and/or words can be quite satisfying. It can enhance the true meaning of your work.

Many readers consider formal metrics a foreboding issue and are hesitant to enter into its precincts. Yet, all poets whose work continues to attract readers, even those who write mainly in free verse, have a deep understanding of the rhythmical qualities of language. The study of meter and form, for its own sake, cannot make anyone into a poet, particularly when that study is mechanical and incompetent.

An insistence that poets conform to supposed rules of poetic composition can be as harmful to poetry as a determination to write with no pattern or purpose whatever. However, a spirit of rhythmic and structural examination might help our poetry flow more exquisitely.

Poet Peter Davison has published several collections of his poems. One such book, Pretending to Be Asleep, was the recipient of the 1972 National Institute of Arts and Letters Award. More recently, Davison has gathered a collection called "Breathing Room," a cycle of lyric poems in a tone of burnished meditation unlike anything that has come before.

Among the many artful qualities found in the book—its diverse incidents and keen wit—is the deft nonce form that nearly all the poems conform to: twenty-five lines cast in seven tercets and a closing quatrain. These lines are set in a flexible pattern reminiscent of the late poems of William Carlos Williams, although with a wistful medley all their own. One might think this form would be rather constraining, but in this event the effect is quite the opposite. The poems in "Breathing Room" do not sound forced—the analogy is predominant—as natural as breathing. Imagine a form that in its flexible alertness asks to be likened to "the lightfoot/lope of a rapt fox/a red and ragged vixen/absorbed in her intentions/catlike or rather foxlike/in concentration." These lines present fox and poet entirely in their element, and sustaining a kindred passion of purpose.

Davison begins and ends his book with the following quatrain, as if to relate the tangible action of respiration:

We attain fulfillment only if we carry
the breath of the world
without surrender
or escape.

So, will poets write with more experimentation as regards meter, and consider the nonce form? As I said earlier, your nonce may become a form that will live forever.
 
Last edited:
bluerains said:
and can it connect with an original idea of sensual metaphor...is there any nonce poetry with sensual overtones out here in lit...I wonder...so far John Donne is one of a few examples..but am more in line with free verse and how it works...I often use
long winding sentences...and am wondering if one can have a certain amount of words in one sentence to make it a nonce...also thanks...

http://www.thewritersezine.com/t-zero/archives/2004-texts/2004-09-poetics.shtml
Poetics

Jeanette Oestermyer

Will Metrics in Poetry be Reborn?
Try Creating a Personal Nonce Form
The twentieth century saw the inception of free verse as we know it (verse without meter). Yet, the idea that somewhere suspended in space is the perfect shape or form that will fit a particular subject matter. Then, the poet will be a hunter or scientist seeking the hidden form that will reveal a specific truth. As forms that have been used before would not be suitable, and meter, or (heaven forbid) rhyme would be a fake imposition by the poet on unrestricted truth.

So, enter the ‘nonce’ form, defined as a poetic form created for a specific poem, which may become widely used if it catches on and becomes a tool for other poets. Should one of these strange experimental forms gain popularity, it might be given a suitable name of its own and live on. Some of us have probably written a nonce form without realizing it. Some poets use a ‘nonce stanza’ in an otherwise known form. Will we, in the twenty-first century, return to a more metric poetry? I am not speaking of ‘nursery-rhyme’-type poetry, or poetry with a strict boring cadence, but an experimental metric scheme, probably called a nonce.

Poetry has developed on the one hand by using existing patterns, and on the other hand by adapting existing patterns into new patterns. One form that comes to mind is the sestina, a form that is traditionally unrhymed. The form also has a specified set of lines, and the end words of lines in the first stanza are used throughout but are arranged in a strict pattern. Within the last few years, the rhymed sestina has made its debut, and it is a true challenge to write. Some other forms such as the ode, which was originally rhymed, has come to be written in free verse also.

A poet who loves language will often experiment and create a form for a single idea that does not fit into any of the traditional forms. Finding your own form that does justice to your unique ideas and/or words can be quite satisfying. It can enhance the true meaning of your work.

Many readers consider formal metrics a foreboding issue and are hesitant to enter into its precincts. Yet, all poets whose work continues to attract readers, even those who write mainly in free verse, have a deep understanding of the rhythmical qualities of language. The study of meter and form, for its own sake, cannot make anyone into a poet, particularly when that study is mechanical and incompetent.

An insistence that poets conform to supposed rules of poetic composition can be as harmful to poetry as a determination to write with no pattern or purpose whatever. However, a spirit of rhythmic and structural examination might help our poetry flow more exquisitely.

Poet Peter Davison has published several collections of his poems. One such book, Pretending to Be Asleep, was the recipient of the 1972 National Institute of Arts and Letters Award. More recently, Davison has gathered a collection called "Breathing Room," a cycle of lyric poems in a tone of burnished meditation unlike anything that has come before.

Among the many artful qualities found in the book—its diverse incidents and keen wit—is the deft nonce form that nearly all the poems conform to: twenty-five lines cast in seven tercets and a closing quatrain. These lines are set in a flexible pattern reminiscent of the late poems of William Carlos Williams, although with a wistful medley all their own. One might think this form would be rather constraining, but in this event the effect is quite the opposite. The poems in "Breathing Room" do not sound forced—the analogy is predominant—as natural as breathing. Imagine a form that in its flexible alertness asks to be likened to "the lightfoot/lope of a rapt fox/a red and ragged vixen/absorbed in her intentions/catlike or rather foxlike/in concentration." These lines present fox and poet entirely in their element, and sustaining a kindred passion of purpose.

Davison begins and ends his book with the following quatrain, as if to relate the tangible action of respiration:

We attain fulfillment only if we carry
the breath of the world
without surrender
or escape.

So, will poets write with more experimentation as regards meter, and consider the nonce form? As I said earlier, your nonce may become a form that will live forever.


So in other words... we may have our own style or create on that becomes catching and recreated by other poets, hence starting a new style of poetry?

Just curious blue, what style do you write in?
Don't ask that in return cause I have no idea...
I write what I feel and according to what your
post is saying, there is nothing wrong with that <grin>

the style of ...no style
 
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