Read the below: doesn't it sound like there might be a fun new word game in this?

A post on the Diane Ravitch blog discussing the revised GED exam prompted this comment:
"When standardized testing (the NECAP, in NH) first started, I always said I wondered why my plumber would have to be able to analyze a Robert Frost poem (which the tests always seemed full of, for some reason)."
...to which another commenter responded thus:
Whose pipes these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his pipes freeze up below.
That herd of deer must think me queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the house and frozen lake
The coldest evening of the year.
I give the frozen pipe a shake
To see if ice will simply break.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The pipes are frozen, hard and [bleep!],
And I have promises to keep,
And pipes to thaw before I sleep,
And pipes to thaw before I sleep.

and another added,
We dance round the sink and suppose,
but the hairball sits in the drain and knows.

What about a poetry satire game? It would have to be 'famous' poems, from the hackneyed-- "I think that I shall never see..."-- to the ones boomers had to memorize in the '50's "O Captain! My Captain!" & "the boy stood on the burning deck" to the overly-parsed in high-school-English-class., like 'Stopping by Woods' above, or "Because I could not stop for Death".

Perhaps the host could simply name the poet to be satirized. Or more maybe we could mimic the 'Link to the Lyrics' game. Any interest, suggestions, ideas?

Do it! What's the first poem?

Seems like a good idea. One problem I can see (apart from getting people to take part) is that educational systems differ, so what is instantly familiar to one of us might be unknown to others, especially those in other countries. For instance, although I can recognise a couple of Robert Frost poems, I can't recall ever reading him at school. Many poets well-known to British people, I'm sure, are similarly obscure over there.

Seems interesting, and rather droll. Presumably there would be a Contest Manager or "CM". The CM might name the poem, and provide the original wording. Then let the contest begin. And, of course, the winner of any contest could be accorded the task of creating the next piece to be satirized. This could be submitted to the CM to be approved as suitable, and posted. Optionally, the original posting of the piece to be satirized might be accompanied by an explanation or a short write-up for context.

This format gets by Arnie's concern about cultural familiarity, for the focus would be on creating a satire of the piece before one, familiar or not.

Also, it means that long poems, some of which are familiar and delightful, could be considered for the contest, where the piece to be satirized is simply lifted from the poem in question. Since the lines to be satirized would be given at the outset, there is no particular need that they be a "contiguous lift" from said poem (and might, instead, consist of a famous first and last verse, for example).

Arnie, very true this presents a challenge. Whichever style we choose (link the lyrics, or bluff-game/limerick game- on poet or individual poem), occasionally, context/ explanation will be needed. But that offers the fun (to me) aspect of learning something about the poems/ authors studied in other cultures.

And yet-- although the poems I cited were American-- the study of poetry (in US at least) has traditionally been a mixed bag of American & British, with some colonials & others thrown in. Eliot and Pound. Sandburg, Dickinson & Whitman, WCWilliams & Plath-- but Wordsworth, Browning, Yeats, Keats, Shelley. Kipling. The Iranians Khayyam & Rumi. The haiku master Basho. And who was that Middle-Eastern poet everyone was quoting in the late '60's, even inserting excerpts into their wedding vows??

Many years ago Mad Magazine did parodies of poems.

Please, B35, ignore the nit picking, post a poem - any old poem - and let the mad mangled meaning marathon begin! Forget competition, let's just have some fun!

PS: Were you thinking of Kahlil Gibran?

Oh, Geoff, you are so right, it wss Kahlil Gibran! & thank you Wee Willie, this is just how I imagined the game might progress.

I shall give it a go tomorrow just to get things started, then we'll see what adjustments we need to make.

...and I couldn't get beyond the first sentence without getting entrained in the rhythm:

When standardized testing first started...

Stuck in a rut, you say?!

quote:

Originally posted by haberdasher:
...and I couldn't get beyond the first sentence without getting entrained in the rhythm:

When standardized testing first started...

Stuck in a rut, you say?!

There's a poster at the Ravitch blog who regularly comments via satirical verse (moniker SomeDAM Poet). Surprised he didn't pick up on that.

OK, here we go!
This one's like shooting fish in a barrel but we have to start somewhere. Hubby & I love illustrator art from the early 20thc; scroll down here to see a [poorly-rendered image of] an item that hangs in our house, keeping this bit of verse in mind. It first appeared in the Aug 1913 issue of Poetry Magazine.


TREES by Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Feel free to post your version right on this thread.

Wow! This is no trivial exercise!

Here's one from Ogden Nash:

quote:

I think that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree.
Perhaps, unless the billboards fall,
I'll never see a tree at all.
~ Ogden Nash, "Song of the Open Road," 1933 ~

I swear that I shall never see
A varmint loathsome as a flea.

A flea whose hungry mouth is prest
Against my buttocks and my breast;

A flea that causes me to itch,
First bit my dog, the poor old bitch.

A passer-on of many ills,
From plague to fevers, coughs and chills.

Within his gut resides my blood -
Did fleas survive old Noah's flood?

Forget the fleas of Donne and Blake;
If God made fleas, 'twas a mistake!

Oh, very nice, Geoff! I take my hat off to you.

Love it, Geoff!

CONSTIPATION by bethree5

I think that I shall never part
With poop again, save just a fart.

A fart whose sorry smell is passt
From nose to nose of gath’ring vast;

A fart that wafts on incensed air
And spoils the churchy ambience there;

A fart that oft in Summer bears
A humid weight, provoking glares--

In Winter by malicious sport
Does split dry air with loud report.

O, silent wind is quite an art
And God’s alone’s a smell-less fart.

Why, Bethree, I didn't know you had it in you!

Well done! I can't wait to see what Greg, Haberdasher, and Shufitz will come up with! And Bob, too, since he should be back on Friday, I think. And Kalleh, are you in?

Tom, are you going to give it a shot? Tinman?

My poor attempt:

I think that I shall never see
What folks once labelled as a "tree".

A growth with Agent Orange blasted --
It seems a miracle it lasted.

Where once the world was verdant green
There's only garbage now that's seen

Majestic once the mighty oak
Is shriveled down, a bushy joke.

For damage done to Eden's Garden,
No kindly god will offer pardon.

Only too true! I live in the middle of three corn or soy fields. Every year they spray the crops and our fruit trees shrivel. Thanks a lot, Monsanto!

Snow -- more snow --> still more snow --> ice dam --> wet dining room ceiling --> damn ice! --> dining room ceiling dripping --> WHOOMPH!! --> dining room ceiling all over dining room table and dining room floor --> change in priorities. Valentine on hold, too. :-(

Oh, Hab. I am so sorry. I did hear that you got another 12 inches.

I'll love reading these, Bethree, but I am not a poet. I like limericks and DDs, and I love reading poetry, but I can't write it. I bet Bob will like this, though.

Ode to Hab and other Bostonians:

I am sure you are thinking...

I think that I shall never see
The spring or summer, fall to be!

Marie

I think that there could never be
A girl as lovely as Marie.

A sailor's dream with sunken chest
And hairy legs and all the rest.

With store-bought teeth that gleam and shine
And golden hair that looks like twine.

With painted face and bloodshot eyes,
And scrawny legs and dimpled thighs.

She roams the wharf showing her wares
Most men laugh and the boys she scares.

Sailors like her in spite of her bum
Because she comes with a quart of rum.

Damn, Hab, I hope you and your family are safe and warm!

Hab isn't the only one showed in. We also have about two feet of snow from successive storms with another 3 -5 coming down tomorrow. Unfortunately, with my bad foot, I can't shovel. So it's up to the spouse. She is also listening for creaks in the roof. I hope she knows how to climb.

Not such good news, Proof. Here's hoping you've got a strong roof!

How about Betree5? Are you buried?

As for Boston, it has long been known by Bostonians that their city is at the center of the world. It is not just that - it is now the new North Pole!

Geoff, basking in the Central Indiana banana belt, at a mere -17 C.

I went into the living room and saw my wife gazing through the window. The snow was beginning to fall and I thought to myself, "If it comes down any harder, I may have to let her into the house."

Ugh, Proof. So sorry. It's the snow and ice on the roof that really can cause problems. We had a friend who also had an ice damn cause roof leakage, but it didn't sound as bad as Hab's.

Kalleh, did you mean, "ice damn?" I know Hab did, but...

I watched a segment of "This Old House" last week which dealt with plaster losing its grip on lath and falling from the ceiling. Moisture will hasten its doing so. Let's hope Hab's only facing a cleanup/re-plaster job, not whole house structural failure.

I wonder what the heart attack rate is in New England right now? I bet it's way up because of all that strenuous shoveling.

Loving the entries, keep'm coming. For those who aren't snowed in so haven't the time to contemplate, just spoof a couple of stanzas.

I dasn't complain much about the weather in NJ, we have dodged the latest bullet or two (ricocheted to New England). The main problem I'm having is: this just isn't ordinary weather here. We've already had the plumber in to thaw a frozen pipe. Thank goodness it hadn't ruptured yet. The same pipe burst the winter after that bathroom was put in cuz dumb builder hadn't insulated. But in the subsequent 15 yrs, a few casually strewn insulation blankets had sufficed. Apparently New Eng-sytle insulation now req'd, meanwhile, faucet left drizzling...

Several weeks ago, my wife asked what the "dragging" noise was and I told her I thought the neighbor was moving his garbage cans. But it wasn't garbage day, and she said it seemed to be coming from the cellar. She went downstairs and yelled that the cellar was filling with water. The pipe into the heater had a ruptured fitting and was spraying water all over. The problem is the shut-off was at the other end of the cellar, past the waterfall, and hadn't been closed in thirty years. Major difficulty shutting things off.

Yes indeed. Reminds me of a film a couple of decades ago called "The Money Pit". For now we have to leave the hatch to attic crawl-space open-- the arctic wafts down the front stairs directly to the thermostat... rest of house nice & toasty (oh except for bedroom w/northwest exposure, whose heat has to be periodically supplemented with electric unit).

1928 house... dollar bills on wings floating out of chimney...

quote:

Originally posted by bethree5:


1928 house... dollar bills on wings floating out of chimney...

1887 house here. Silver dollar coins and gold standard paper currency back then. Figure that out in today's money, and... OUCH! Right now I've got the gas furnace, the wood stove, and a supplemental kerosene heater all going, even though it's a balmy 19° F here. My spouse has run off to Californica, where it's warm (er).

Proofreader, do you have steam heat with radiators? Really nice - if it works.