|
|
| Author |
Message |
| 25 new of 178 responses total. |
arianna
|
|
response 34 of 178:
| 
Apr 19 23:28 UTC 2000 |
I didn't set out to pick obnoxiously difficult phrases like "heartfelt
rudabaga." In fact, I just picked random phrases out of a book.
If you don't like my approach to picking the new pairs, just remember:
I don't care. <sunshiny smile>
Since my phrases are so *easy* Dan, I expect nothing less than perfection from
you. d=
|
orinoco
|
|
response 35 of 178:
|
Apr 19 23:40 UTC 2000 |
(Ooh, I rather like "heartfelt rutabaga")
|
remmers
|
|
response 36 of 178:
|
Apr 20 10:22 UTC 2000 |
(Right, it's deliciously non-sensible.)
|
arianna
|
|
response 37 of 178:
|
Apr 20 14:48 UTC 2000 |
bah, humbug.
|
brighn
|
|
response 38 of 178:
|
Apr 20 15:16 UTC 2000 |
|
brighn
|
|
response 39 of 178:
|
Apr 20 15:18 UTC 2000 |
Actually, if I may quote from the rules:
"The adjective must imaginatively describe the noun in a completely new way."
So, technically, your method of picking phrases violates the rules, since
you're picking phrases that are already in print.
*sweet smile*
|
arianna
|
|
response 40 of 178:
|
Apr 20 20:48 UTC 2000 |
"All words
are borrowed,
and in use
are returned."
The english language has been around a long time, I'm sure all the
"imaginative" phrases ahev already been used. So one might argue that this
whole exercise, if bent ont hat purpose alone, would be a lesson in futility.
|
brighn
|
|
response 41 of 178:
|
Apr 20 21:58 UTC 2000 |
Actually, I can prove mathematically that there exist a large number of
phrases which have never been used. But the portion of those which are
two-word phrases is likely relatively small.
All the same, there are 180,000 entries in my college dictionary. If a quarter
of those are nouns and a quarter of those are adjectives, that leaves roughly
about 2 billion adjective-noun phrases. That's an awful lot.
Furthermore, I'm just tweakin' ya, I broke the rules myself (and I'll break
'em again, dangit ;} )
|
remmers
|
|
response 42 of 178:
|
Apr 20 21:59 UTC 2000 |
I am certain that "heartfelt rutabaga" has never been used before.
|
arianna
|
|
response 43 of 178:
|
Apr 21 01:09 UTC 2000 |
then by all means, include it in your next list o' phrases. consider it a
gift from the font of all obnoxious phrases, Erinn. <giggle>
|
brighn
|
|
response 44 of 178:
|
Apr 21 06:06 UTC 2000 |
"obnoxious font" may also be on the list of never used, although perhaps it's
on the list of seldom used. ;}
|
arianna
|
|
response 45 of 178:
|
Apr 21 17:21 UTC 2000 |
I like that one, too.
IT could be used in a few ways -- an ode to your word processor, perhaps? (;
|
ponder
|
|
response 46 of 178:
|
Apr 24 03:11 UTC 2000 |
Jeez louise, you guys, would someone post a poem already.
The stated list (with much thanks to Erinn)is as follows
black bread
noontime sunshine
long task
cold ground
vivid violet
I request (but do not require) that, due to the nature of the list, the
poet use his or her imagination to try to make these phrases seem
(pardon me, Erinn) less cliche.
PS. I don't mind rule breakers. This thing is supposed to be for fun
not argument. The whole point is to have fun. It would be nice if
folks would stick close to the rules, but no one, particularly not me,
cares whether or not it actually happens.
Thanks, guys.
|
brighn
|
|
response 47 of 178:
|
Apr 24 03:58 UTC 2000 |
The best way to respond to broken rules is with broken rules... >=}
The traffic stopped cold,
ground to a halt at noontime,
sunshine -- too bright, too vivid --
violet shadows and glint of steel and asphalt black:
bread crumbs lost from lines too long,
task-oriented drones jammed up in
the traffic, stopped.
There we go... =}
juvenile serendipity
coarse statue
mindless kettle
red insurgency
happy glass
|
remmers
|
|
response 48 of 178:
|
Apr 24 17:25 UTC 2000 |
Oh sing me a song of red insurgency,
And I won't be blue no more,
I'll just be a happy guy
Drinking from my happy glass.
Or sing me a song of juvenile serendipity,
From my aged perspective t'would be quite cheery,
Yes then I'll be a happy guy
Drinking from my happy glass.
Modern music, it's such a
Mindless kettle of cacaphony,
Modern sculpture too, with its preference for
Coarse statues over more finely chiseled efforts,
So take me away from all that
And sing me a song about any silly thing,
And I'll just be a happy guy
drinking from my happy glass.
-----
Next list:
crusty condominium
reviled lozenge
amorous truck
predestined horse
tender toilet
|
flem
|
|
response 49 of 178:
|
Apr 25 20:30 UTC 2000 |
Aside: I rather like "juvenile serendipity". It appeals to me. :)
|
ponder
|
|
response 50 of 178:
|
May 4 01:25 UTC 2000 |
Ooooh Paul and John, WAY cool poetry.
Paul, that was very good work and nice list.
John, I liked your poem, it had rhythm. And your list made me laugh. I
don't envy the person who decides to take on the challenge. I have
feeling this item is going to become something of a personal contest
between the two of you. I hope not, but...
Anyway, Good job everybody. Keep 'em comin'.
|
remmers
|
|
response 51 of 178:
|
May 4 11:42 UTC 2000 |
Thanks. I was just thinking about the fact that nobody's
done anything yet with my list in #48.
|
ponder
|
|
response 52 of 178:
|
May 11 03:59 UTC 2000 |
Well, that one's something of a toughie. Maybne they're thinking. I'll
ask Jon. Maybe *he* can come up with something. After all, I really
don't want this to end up as duelling poets.
|
arianna
|
|
response 53 of 178:
|
May 14 17:51 UTC 2000 |
<suddenly sees brighn and remmers doing a litle jig to "Dueling Banjos">
|
remmers
|
|
response 54 of 178:
|
May 14 19:41 UTC 2000 |
<remmers hopes someone will get on with this game, someday>
|
arianna
|
|
response 55 of 178:
|
May 16 19:02 UTC 2000 |
My nose has become a crusty condominium,
home to new tenants: a virus, a "bug."
My throat is their wreck room,
my ears ring with clamor
as they move in their sofas, their TVs, their rugs.
This reviled lozenge I suck on brings no relief;
they just laugh as I pucker
on its fake lemon taste.
They burble, now humored, they jiggle with glee,
"Our landlord is naive of our strength, how sweet."
All alone this weekend, with only these foes
and my tender toilet, whom I crouch beside,
who listens and understands when I pray
for surcease, for my pernicious residents
to abandon their lease.
From the window, I can see my Sonoma,
amorous truck that calls to me.
"Will you be alright, my lady?" it asks.
White ride, you are my predestined horse,
for we go to the doctor on Monday.
---
serious drawls
snug caffine
rudimentary pecan
plastic beansprouts
vicious rubberband
|
orinoco
|
|
response 56 of 178:
|
May 16 20:33 UTC 2000 |
10 points for "surcease" and "toilet" in the same stanza.
|
remmers
|
|
response 57 of 178:
|
May 17 11:11 UTC 2000 |
<remmers LOL at #55. splendid, splendid!>
|
lumen
|
|
response 58 of 178:
|
May 17 21:45 UTC 2000 |
resp:55 pure genius.. too bad my creative juices are still a bit fried
or otherwise diverted to other things..
|