Poetry Dare – Can You Poetaster Wags Rise to the Occasion?

caravan

I found this in a box of antique ephemera today.  It’s for the old timey 18th-19th century binocular viewer, stereopticon thingy or something. One inserted it and voila! a 3-D tableau of a camel caravan headed for Egypt right before one’s eyes!

Those were the days, weren’t they? What do you suppose the camel traders were talking about? Their aching behinds? Their sunburn?

Take the challenge and write us a nice little poem about this scene.  Something along the lines of  “Ozmandias”  or  “Ode on a Grecian Urn.” Post it in the comments below.  The world is waiting.

“Ode to a Camel?” or “Ode to a Camel Driver?”or — “O, Thou Odious Camel Driver Astride Thy Malodorous Camel?”

How ’bout a limerick or two too? hahaha!

What ho! Shelley, Byron, Keats!

Rejoice! It’s Saturday!

[UPDATE: Inspired verses have begun to pour in already from talented word wizards. See comment section below. If we get a selection of poems from others, we might have a vote on them and award a prize. Or give everybody a prize for the imaginative guts just to try. Maybe a banner for your blog? or ?  Hmmm

Anybody up for a sonnet, a villanelle, heroic couplets?] 

Here are some helpful prompts and backgrounders (I didn’t just hatch this versifying inanity out of my own idle fevered brain. It’s a legitamate poetic type.

OCCASIONAL VERSE

Goethe thought it was one of the highest forms of poetry. What did he know?

OCCASIONAL VERSE

THE NICK BLATCHFORD OCCASIONAL VERSE CONTEST

THE OCCASIONAL POEM-THE POETRY FOUNDATION

About Margaret Jean Langstaff

A lifelong critical reader with literary tastes, a novelist, short story writer, essayist, book critic, and professional book editor for many years. A consultant to publishers and authors, providing manuscript critiques and a full range of editorial services. A friend and supporter of all other readers and writers. A collector of signed modern first editions. Animal lover and tree hugger.
This entry was posted in Humor, Literature, poetry, writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Poetry Dare – Can You Poetaster Wags Rise to the Occasion?

  1. jef says:

    The Way They Were

    Ships of the desert sway in their vaguely bovine claque
    peremptory expression, harelip, wall-eyed knowing stares
    the Bedouin, or what have you, mill about in blasted shade
    or cling like tossed sailors to the sand-bit dromedary back

    This sun-worn frieze portrays a tented world destroyed
    One former nomad, scirroco-born, now sashays shamelessly in orchid lei
    while elsewhere proud warriors wield sword and flame
    here Precarious Steve throws down his stick and hugs the tribal Polaroid.

    Liked by 1 person

    • “Tribal Polaroid!” great “The orchid lei?” Is the reference to those lucky enough to escape to more lush, balmy, kindlier climes, or a fantasy? Fun. the anachronism is sly allusive commentary on the antique stereopticon (sp?) panel and our latter day perspective. You are a wit 😉

      Like

  2. jef says:

    Leave the Stick, Let’s Go

    Ships of the desert waver in a vaguely bovine clique
    respite in a blasted pool of shade
    Bedouin (or what have you) mill about
    and dream of pulp-free lemonade.

    Scirocco-born in testing flame and sand
    and overdressed this and every hellish day
    Fazl yet finds some succor here
    and strokes his lovely floral lei.

    Atop the lumpen ungulate
    (his purse-lipped dromedary cross to bear)
    his brother totters tipsily
    and drops his stick. And leaves it there.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Lost in a trackless waste with no time to spare
    The sun broiling their bods and brains medium rare–
    “What the hay? We’re cooked and have lost our way.”
    They we’re running out of excuses, things to say–
    “We should have taken a left at that big dune!”
    “No, a right at the rock pile with the snake we passed too soon!”
    “It’s the camels’ fault, no GPS, no dashboard map!”
    “I’m for beating the uholy blasted crap
    Out of them! We’re way late already
    For hot Fatima’s rockin tent party!”
    “We’re doomed, finished, it’s over I fear!”
    “We missed all the tapas, hot wings and free beer!”

    “So where the hell are we?”
    “We are NOWHERE, moron, that’s pretty damn clear to me!”

    Liked by 1 person

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