noble4d:

I have problems with ur sonnet.

A sonnet is a poem of an expressive thought or idea made up of 14 lines, each being ten syllables long.

there are two patterns in sonnet:

1, English pattern
2, Italian pattern

but let me emphasize on English pattern......


The English pattern is written as 3 quatrains followed by a rhyming couplet. e.g ab ab,cdcd,efef, .

Note: pay attention on your syllables.

Noble cares

noble4d:

honestly bro I'm in love with ur works. nice dirge

OMA4U:

I have 10 syllables on each line with a rhyming couplet abab, cdcd, efef, and also it's iambic pentameter.

Thanks...cares received!

noble4d:

Hmm! 10 syllables agreed...but u did injustice to flourish sonnet . In sonnet, we don't only pour out our thoughts or ideas but we also communicate... hope u know what I mean. your writeup is matched up, I think you should re-write...thumbs up

Noble cares

OMA4U:
Thanks I got it!
How about others I've posted so far?

noble4d:

Xup swit... I'm still alive oooo...how ave u bin?

OMA4U: IN MY HOME

In my home
I hear the awful news
Shooting out of aggrieved lips
Like a dozen of stray bullets
piercing into our feeble hearts

Clans sob with heavy breath
Chanting canticles- manacles of death shackles him
In the throes amidst of unbearable agony
Myriads of pains serenade the air
Blowing every mournful head

My feeble heart splinters into little fragments
Like the crumbs of broken clay pot
Tears wander through the aisle of my cheeks
When eyes witness you in cluttered garment
In an icy form of numb frozen body

My home
That was once a mansion of smiles
Is now filled with baskets of sorrow
As you vanish like rose that vacates the bouquet
To reside in a lonely vast of small mug

Tag: Larrysun, timpaker, noble4d, firestar, texanomaly, princesa, stormybucci

noble4d:

Honestly, I love your use of words....but, what type of poem is this?

OMA4U: Elergy or dirge. Thanks, noble4d. I appreciate you, sir.

OMA4U: A DROP OF INK

Silence smothers the speaking pen
Words muffle in your itching throats
But you've got a lot to tell the world
If no one ever reads your words
How do we hear your speaking heart?

Your heart, a barrel of plethora tales
Mind, reservoir of ruminating bales
But tamed voice keeps them crude
If you've never paint the pictures
How do we see your winning world?

Why stuck and struck in lifetime silence?
When your pen wants to elude your cage
Whip out your silent loquacious pen
Glide and slide it over the needing page
While you write in utmost ambience

You've got the light to bright the shadow
Sonorous voice to sing for us the blues
Through the flying words of your mouth
Changes may arise like phoenix from the ashes
And You too may be remembered in this axis

Series of stories standstill, and still
Waiting to be put in a pending paper
That lies fallow on the four-legged mahogany
Scene to scene; chapters to chapters
living world arise from the dead of white paper

Kiss your silent warrior with thunderous voice
Let it swoop like an eagle to your world
Let it peck words with its fluent nifty nib
And stream them down to its eloquent tip
A drop of ink makes a mighty word

For the sake of this seminar/workshop I'd like to add analysis to this poem

BACKGROUND OF THE POEM
The idea behind this poem is the 'rephrasal' of the common phrase - a drop of water makes a mighty ocean. If a drop of water could make a mighty ocean, definitely a drop of ink could also make a mighty word. This shows that the poet does not undermine what words can do. He knows the power of words and how its effects could summon a change.

'In the beginning was the word….."

THEME/ANALYSIS

This poem opens with the poet asserting that 'silence smothers the speaking pen' and goes further to show the image of someone who is willing to speak, but words disappear somewhere in his throat.
In stanza two, thus: the poet tells us that we have a lot of stories in our heart we wish to tell, but quietude makes those stories never heard. The poet uses 'comma' to relate heart and a barrel of plethora tales as metaphoric or simile expression. Same goes for mind and reservoir of ruminating bales. The poet selects the word 'bales' which means 'suffering or evil'.
Sometimes evil or sorrowful thoughts which might cause depression or inhumane actions flash through our mind, but if these thoughts could be written as stories or painted as an artwork, they may be jettisoned as they have found a life in art.

"Most artists/poets in the world may manage to get through life without little or no violence, because their works provide means for them to express themselves"

In stanza four and five, the poet encourages a singer with sonorous voice to sing and a writer to start writing. They should allow their thoughts to be penned down as the drop of their ink makes a mighty word which may inadvertently change the world.

POETIC DEVICES

STRUCTURE: The poem consists of six stanza of thirty lines that flow like a gentle river continuously, with an end-rhyme as in 'word' and 'world' of lines 27 and 30.

DICTION: The general language of this poem is direct, precise and simple. Through simplicity the images of pen that glides and slides over paper is clearly conveyed.

ALLITERATION: This is the repetition of 's' in line 1, 'silence smothers the speaking pen'. Also in 'series of stories standstill, and still'.

PARADOX: In line 2, 'words muffle in your itching throat', it is paradoxical to say that words do not come out of the mouth that is eager to speak.

PERSONIFICATION: The poet uses a lot of personifications to enhance the flow and beauty of the poem. The attributes of human beings are given to non-human, like 'silence smothers the speaking pen'. The poet portrays it as though silence suffocates the breath (speaking) of the pen. Also as if pen could speak. In line 5, 'speaking heart' and in line 8, 'voice keeps them crude'
in line 12, '…pen wants to elude your cage' and in line 13, 'loquacious pen'. in short personification is ubiquitous in verse 3 and the poem as a whole.

METAPHOR: 'Tamed voice keeps the crude' line 8. The use of metaphor here gives us visual sense of the stories and thoughts that are like crude diamond, drab and dull, but after it is refined, it becomes shine and glamourous, same as the stories of a writer may become an award winning that would be read for centuries. Just like Shakespeare (Over four hundred years) . Metaphor also gives us the visual sense of 'table' in line 23, 'four-legged mahogany'

SIMILES: In line 19, 'changes may arise like phoenix from the ashes'. Also in line 27, 'let it swoop like an eagle to your world.'

IMAGERY: 'Your heart, a barrel of plethora tales, in line 6 . Also line 7,Mind, reservoir of ruminating bales' and 'When your pen wants to elude your cage' in line 12

RHYME: There are tales/bales, cage/page, silence/ambience, paper/paper, world/word. Rhyme added to the flow of the poem.

ENJAMBMENT/RUN-ON-LINE: This is employed in stanza five in such a way that the idea of line 21 spills over to the next line, like that. 'series of stories standstill, and still/waiting to be put in a pending paper/that lies fallow on the four-legged mahogany.'

OXYMORON: In line 13, 'silence loquacious'. Two opposing words are placed together to create a sharp contrast. It portrays a garrulous pen that is kept silent by the user.

ASSONANCE: There is correspondence of vowel, 'struck and stuck', 'glide and slide', 'light and bright' and 'standstill and still'

REPETITION: 'World and word' in verse 1 is repeated in verse 6 and 'How do we' is also repeated

RETHORICAL: How do we hear your speaking heart?

TONE/MOOD: There is a general tone of motivation and inspiration. The mood of the poet is that of sympathy and emotion

THEMES
1. Motivation
2. Inspirations
3. Hope and Optimism
4. Clarion call

OMA4U: Pregnant Future

A wise farmer arises at the sun rise
Hanging hoe on his shoulder from home
Holding firmly to his machete sternly and hurry
Heading for farming to farm any farming

He scorns the thorns and plants the corns
Hoping to harbor in his palour his labour
But overtime the harvest time grows no dime
The man weeps deep, still nothing to reap

If men could see the blossom future
Only things that breed leisure they will nurture
But the future is uncertain and unfair
Jumbled up with tears and wears

No one know the child it will bear
Though sometimes it appears crystal clear
We have to be steadfast for the days of harvest
And by hope that will live and await the best

From the pregnant future

Chuksemi: I wish to start something like this very soon, though I am officially a big learner. But I would appreciate your blunt criticism when I start. Of course I would tag you. I admire your write up, you are indeed, a good poet.

noble4d:


The poem has six stanzas each in cinquain... I love the input of analysis...thumbs up

Bamibor:

OMA, this is beautiful. I really enjoyed reading it. It's well delivered, simple yet not lacking in depth. I'm not an expert in prosody but I must commend your intertwine of alliteration and assonance.

I really think this is one piece that both young and old can enjoy reading (infact I think it can be used in schools).

OMA4U:
Thanks Bamibor, I appreciate your comments sir.

I am thirsty sir

Chuksemi:

I am thirsty sir

OMA4U:
thirsty of poetic juice or what?

Aha, a new one. Poetic juice it is then

OMA4U:
THE MAN BEHIND THE MIRROR

When rain and sun, drops and shines
When flowers and thorns grow in the same bouquet
When love and hates cloak under a garment
When light and darkness appear in a partial shadow
Then how do we separate evil from good
How do we see the man behind the mirror?

When life and death hover around a hanging breath
When countenance of smile and hiss grow on a face
When good and bad amalgamate as a ruler
When the infallible judge sits on a fence
When a coin stands on its rolling edge
Then how do we know the side it shows?

when water and fire well up in a well
when heaven and hell have a single passage
when magnanimous teeth furtively bite
Then how do we see the man behind the mirror?
Who reflects to us our needs in every way
But hides behind, watching as we waste away

When dirge and ode rhyme in one verse
When the holy go on pilgrimage in a cesspool
When wine and venom mix in a bottle
How do we see the man behind the mirror?
Who reflects to us our needs in every way
But stand behind, leading us astray


Tag:
Timpaker, deflover, Firestar, amiablejay,
princesa , Divepen, texanomaly, noble4d , badmusace, Chuksemi, royver, iyabodeh, laykorn, lordthunderbolt, philtrum, JigsawKillah, kagari, krystalxxx

laykorn:


I'll be grateful. Only if you would analyse this.

OMA4U:
A MEMORY OF THE DEATH (Quatrain)

So sad that saddened morning
A noise was heard; agony of death
The songs of dirge of mourning
For your departure from the earth

Grim reaper of men has struck again
Natural assassin that can’t be bribed
Leaving us to wallow in forever pain
No matter how much we proscribe

If death has a price, you would never die
You’re worth more than bags of gold
Though you never wait to say bye
In my heart your memories I behold

Sometimes I feel your warmth around me
Like your fragrance is so near and close
I’d shut my eyes may be you will I see
Or your face when you were here bestows

I know you are not so far from me
You live just a little way beyond
Paradise of peace and no pain foresee
Far past beyond the earth’s bond

When I feel I miss you the most
And as years go drifting by so much
I delve into my library of memories host
Your memories are heaven’s gentle touch


Soothing me, like a soft balm on spines
You are the sunlight that sparks on sheets
The beaming moon that shines
The cool breeze that send off heats

They heal and conquer the pain in my heart
The rough and tranquil days we shared
Will find abode and life in my poetry art
I will lay them underneath the pillow on my bed

Though alive we do speak no more
In my head you forever live in me and sings
Perhaps you come to me in night dreams
I will disclose to you many things

tag:Larrysun
Sammyhoe/ Sammy hoe
Audrey Timm
Princesa
Prettyspicey
Davep
Temitope Daniel
Texanomaly
Firestar
Justice enam/Justiceenam
Spiceyeva/Spice eva
Queenxstar
Noble4d
Flakkydagirl
TiffanyJ
Missyhorlah
Tpia5
AdebayoOmolara
Timpaker
Dorisbest
Lorlaahlorzz
D9ty7
TheRock5555
Royver
Orikinla
OmA4u
Dammygoody
Kingphilip
Dygeasy

OMA4U:
A MEMORY OF THE DEATH (Quatrain)

So sad that saddened morning
A CRY was heard; agony of death
The songs of dirge of mourning
For your departure from the earth

Grim reaper of men has struck again
Natural assassin that can’t be bribed
Leaving us to wallow in forever pain
No matter how much we proscribe

If death has a price, you would never die
You’re worth more than bags of gold
Though you never wait to say bye
In my heart your memories I behold

Sometimes I feel your warmth around me
Like your fragrance is so near and close
I’d shut my eyes may be you will I see
Or your face when you were here bestows

I know you are not so far from me
You live just a little way beyond
Paradise of peace and no pain foresee
Far past beyond the earth’s bond

When I feel I miss you the most
And as years go drifting by so much
I delve into my library of memories host
Your memories are heaven’s gentle touch


Soothing me, like a soft balm on spines
You are the sunlight that sparks on sheets
The beaming moon that shines
The cool breeze that send off heats

They heal and conquer the pain in my heart
The rough and tranquil days we shared
Will find abode and life in my poetry art
I will lay them underneath the pillow on my bed

Though alive we do speak no more
In my head you forever live in me and sing
Perhaps you come to me in night dreams
I will disclose to you many things

daveP:
I WANTED TO FIND A BETTER WORD FOR SOME PARTS, BUT ONLY ONE I COULD CHANGE. THE 1ST VERSE.

Nice poem. (rushes back to 'office work')

OMA4U:
Come back here to complete it, now!
How far, Dave? How is work going?

Thanks

LarrySun:
Wow! Where wasI when you wrote this brilliant piece? What a beautiful piece! What an amazing poet!

daveP:


(shoes skids to mimic a car that just breaked like in Scrubs) im good o. 'office work' dey fulenty. The files of applicants on my desk are much, i havent go thru atall.


Yes to the poem. Either u change 'sad' or 'saddened' in the 1st line. You get!


Describe the morning another way.

"so sad that friday morning'

(it makes sense in terms of time, even if d days of d wekk have nothing to do per se)

that would do yeah (mimics car ignition and vroooms off. Turns back to give a wave)