Sinister: poetry friday

[Seamus Campbell]

  i've not been reading the list regularly for quite some time;  i have
perpetually got 800 (no joke!) unready sinister messages in the old sinister
folder these days.  but ramping up my enthusiasm for bowlie, and my first
real trip out of the country, i thought i'd make a dazzling reappearance
(ok, appearance; i'm mostly a lurker) with some sinister poetry sharing.  a
little home-grown bawdy verse.  but first, some background.
 
  i didn't write this poem.  it was a product of a game that a number of
friends and i have been playing called (oddly enough) "the sonnet game".
the object is simple.  a group of people with pen and papers compose
end-of-line rhymes to fit the sonnet rhyme scheme (ABABCDCDEFEFGG).  then
they exchange papers, and everyone writes a sonnet to fit the rhymes they've
recieved.  then they all read their sonnets out loud and have a celebratory
beer, or juice or what have you.  
 
  i've got a moderate colloection of these, and i've been thinking about
trying to put together a sonnet game zine. i may try to have it done in time
to distribute at bowlie or at the may meet-up.  if people are interested, i
would love to be organizer to an online round of sonnet-gaming.  just write
me with the word sonnet in the header and i'll send you the sonnet game
f.a.q.. and if you're still interested, i'll include you in the game, and
you may make it into the zine.  
 
  okay, here goes.  


  Within his cheeks there bloom'd a vivid flush
  On glimpsing what he'd gleaned to be a corpse.
  The grasses 'round grew thick and green and lush,
  And Odin gazed upon his lover Norse.
  With strength and vig'r bestowed on him by Thor,
  He consumated this love quite taboo.
  And though assured the prone one would be sore,
  He took him thrice, whisp'ring "my sweet baboo".
  With decorated shield he made a makeshift pillow
  On which he placed the viking's chopped-off schnoz
  And resting there, his heart swimmed like a minnow
  In penitence, and reviewing Viking laws.
  Then with his sword from sheath stained black and roseate
  Od'n cut his path to Norseman's pearly gate.
 
   
  hope i haven't disturbed too many of you with that.  here's another from
the game that's a little more normal.  i did this one:
 
  
  when love so often grows sour and fickle
  and lawyers serve a thick and sorry sheaf
  gavels come to stand more as a sickle
  property usurps heart's domain from 'neath
  children! when you stand in hizzoner's queue
  you ne'er forget a small token of graft
  else promptly you shall have a cause to rue
  and watch old love laugh and laugh and laugh
  if a bribe to you seem all too minor
  you merely have a more difficult wait
  rewards due are richer and the finer
  for true wounds only time can sate
  ex-lovers' pain must surely be hardest
  why do you lawyers reap all of the harvest?
 
  
  if this isn't enough to teach me not to drink at work, i don't know what
will.  enjoy!
 
  seamus

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