Poetry Corner 2

JimmyG2

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Poetry Corner 2

New Year, new nonsense.

As there is very little going on in the football scene at the moment I thought I would drop section 2 on you all to take your mind off Brexit, Turkeys, Donald Trump, mince pies and recent football results.

I have been inundated with requests and advice but I am going to carry on with Poetry Corner anyway.

The level of interest shown since I pioneered a new posting style and since Poetry Corner 1 is very gratifying and the number of people taking up subscriptions has increased exponentially...

I do despair at times though when even Poetry Corner members still asked 'Is this a poem?' when I accidentally published Mrs.JimmyG2's shopping list just because the first two items rhymed.
(Toffee / coffee).

But the level of interest reveals a real thirst for learning amongst the Spurs fans on Spurs Community as well as an appalling level of ignorance.

Whatever do they teach in schools these days?

Anyway I digress. But they do say that the detours and stops are the most interesting part of the journey. Whether its going on holiday or Spurs winning the league. To arrive is to be disappointed.

This week: Ballads

Please note there are hundreds of different poetic forms including: alcaics, alexandrine, aubade, ballad, ballade, carol, concrete poetry, double dactyl, dramatic monologue, eclogue, elegy, epic, epistle, epithalamion, free verse, haiku, heroic couplet, limerick, madrigal, mock epic, ode, ottava rima, pastoral, quatrain, renga, rondeau, ... and many more

Most of these are pure 'History' baby and I will be dealing with the easier forms in the early stages of this course.

Ballads are basically stories about a place or person sometimes set to music.
Originally from the medieval French chanson balladée or ballade, which were originally "danced songs".

Ballads were particularly characteristic of the popular poetry and song of the British Isles from the later medieval period until the 19th century. They persist in folk song, blues and pop music to this day.

'Fernando' by Abba is an example albeit an awful one. All those dreary slow love songs your parents or grandparents loved on vinyl in the 50's are better.

See, I've read it all up on Wiki so that you don't have to. (Wiki the poseur's bible)

Example:

The Ballad of Harry Winks.
In Hemel Hempstead he was born
he had no time for japes and jinks
Where every youth cried 'he can play'
and cried aloud our hero ' Winks'.

He signed for Spurs at eight years old
his parents pride has grown
and every youth cried 'he can play'
And he is one of our own.

Rhyme abcb and note the repetition of line 3. Try this now with Wanyama or Elderweireld
and set it to music.
I warned you that this course would get harder.
As I have demonstrated it doesn't always have to be profound or even make much sense at all. It's the vibe man.

Those of a nervous disposition can start with 'Dier' but you are not allowed to rhyme 'Dier' with player' unless you are Spànish which Harry Winks partly is through his mother. (Thanks Wiki).

So all that stuff about him the next Xavi or Iniesta were not from Poch at all but from his maternal grandfather. Amazing what you learn if you stop talking occasionally.

I'll just let that sink in for a moment

Enough already. Next time the much awaited and requested 'Haiku' in which I hope to finally answer the repeated question ' Is that a haiku?'

What sort of question is that on a football fan-site?. Be proud brothers , be very proud.
 
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aliyid

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#4
Try this now with Wanyama or Elderweireld
The title race they thought had been lost
A limp Christmas defeat filled SC with drama
Why did we play with Winks & Sissoko
Where was the strength of Victor Wanyama

But the team dug in with hope in their hearts
They knew come May the title would be held
Not by Pogba, Salah or Agureo
But by Hugo, Kane and our rock Alderwerield
 
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JimmyG2

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The title race they thought had be lost
A limp Christmas defeat filled SC with drama
Why did we play with Winks & Sissoko
Where was the strength of Victor Wanyama

But the team dug in with hope in their hearts
They knew come May the title would be held
Not by Pogba, Salah or Agureo
But by Hugo, Kane and our rock Alderwerield
Very good
And the music?
 

JimmyG2

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Brilliant, I wish you had been my English grammar teacher at school!
You don't.
You really don't.
I was a 60's
'let it all hang out' kinda guy.
Grammar was not my forte
Can't remember teaching any
to be honest.
More a creative writing dude.
Grammar in the study
of your own native tongue
is a distraction.

Question for you
'Is this a poem?'
Careful.....
 

Charly***

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#9
He's got skilz
& vision like Brahma
He's hard to kill
Mister Victor Wanyama

He woz one to watch
Till his ego swelled
He tried to play Poch
Silly Toby Alderweireld
 
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Charly***

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#10
Sortin' Mr Meaners,
Takin' down names
He will take you to the cleaners
Shoot you down in flames

Boss man Levy
Short of stature
He'll hit u heavy
& f*c{ u up like Thatcher

Edit: Lyricals by MC Levy, choons by Rahzel, da human beatbox

Edit too: I meant Maggie but Ben works 2
 
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Charly***

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2,877
#14
Last one (for today:))

He's not a fancy Dan,
He's a tenacious fella.
The man with a plan,
Erik Manuel Lamela.
 

Charly***

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#15
I lied, I’ve gotta do one 4 Dele

His touch is deft
He don’t give it no welly
He ghosts in from the left
The cheeky mofo Dele
 
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Charly***

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#16
Seriously tho

Oh fragile Rose
How powerful you can seem
With that puffed out chest pose
When you left your ego where it should’ve been
 

minesadouble

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#18
With apologies to Prince.
A Power ballad about Harry to the tune of 'Purple Rain'.


We never thought he would make the grade
Out on loan so far from the Lane
I remember, too slow too fat, they said
Plenty of pain for little gain will be the story of Harry Kane

Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
This is the ballad of our own Hurricane


How we craved to find our weekend lover
To put it in the net again and again
Baby, One Season Wonder is what they said
It’s such a shame the Pundits are inane

Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
This is the ballad of our own Hurricane


Honey, I know, I know
Second Season syndrome, he’s on the wane
It’s a wonder he even lasted that long
His goal-scoring’s gonna down the drain

Changed his shirt from 18 to 10
His form continued in a rich vein
I wonder if we could prise him away
Thought Money-Men in Spain and on the Seine

Champagne, Cocaine, even Chow-Mein
From all others' vices he’d abstain
The first hundred goals scored, it’s insane
How he does it, pundits can’t explain

He lives quietly with Katie and the dogs
Father of Ivy and Vivienne Jane
Spurs is his club, his one and only club
Well except his golf clubs, the Lane’s his domain

Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
This is the ballad of our own Hurricane


If you know what I’m singing about here
Dele, Son, the Dane and Kane
One Season Wonder is what they said
Yet across the PL, defences are slain

But none of the adulation has gone to his head
He'll never hear us sing You’re so Vain
Give him an MBE is what's happened instead
C’mon raise your hands and use your brain

Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
This is the ballad of our own Hurricane
 
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Charly***

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Messages
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#20
With apologies to Prince.
A Power ballad about Harry to the tune of 'Purple Rain'.


We never thought he would make the grade
Out on loan so far from the Lane
I remember, too slow too fat, they said
Plenty of pain for little gain will be the story of Harry Kane

Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
This is the ballad of our own Hurricane


How we craved to find our weekend lover
To put it in the net again and again
Baby, One Season Wonder is what they said
It’s such a shame the Pundits are inane

Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
This is the ballad of our own Hurricane


Honey, I know, I know
Second Season syndrome, he’s on the wane
It’s a wonder he even lasted that long
His goal-scoring’s gonna down the drain

Changed his shirt from 18 to 10
His form continued in a rich vein
I wonder if we could prise him away
Thought Money-Men in Spain and on the Seine

Champagne, Cocaine, even Chow-Mein
From all others' vices he’d abstain
The first hundred goals scored, it’s insane
How he does it, pundits can’t explain

He lives quietly with Katie and the dogs
Father of Ivy and Vivienne Jane
Spurs is his club, his one and only club
Well except his golf clubs, the Lane’s his domain

Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
This is the ballad of our own Hurricane


If you know what I’m singing about here
Dele, Son, the Dane and Kane
One Season Wonder is what they said
Yet across the PL, defences are slain

But none of the adulation has gone to his head
He'll never hear us sing You’re so Vain
Give him an MBE is what's happened instead
C’mon raise your hands and use your brain

Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
Harry Kane, Harry Kane
This is the ballad of our own Hurricane
That’s brilliance, despite you being very specific tho, inside my head it was set to Hurricane by Dylan. Yours is better tho, satori
 
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