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Staying Safe Cronavirus Poem
Shoshin
No one in particularNowhere Special Veteran
Well so far @federica's poem entry regarding social distancing is a umm 🙄 in your face (pun intended) but very effective way to get one's point across.. 😁
"Bugger off, this is my space -
Come any closer and I'll cough in your face!!" 😁
Mine was somewhat less confrontational, a bit drab in comparison ......
" Kia Ora (or any greeting) I don't know you and you don't know me
So let's keep our distance and stay cronavirus free"
To get your creative juices flowing...
What funny or not so funny rhyming poem can you come up with......?
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It's been 7 hours and 15 days,
Since you took my pub away.....
Nothing compares,
I have no beer do you?
I swear, if one more person sends me a song with changed lyrics for corona virus I'll hug them!!
When I first read that @Bunks I thought "Ah how sweet" ... then the penny dropped and I saw the dark side
This reminds me of the Aussie song "Pub with no beer"
Haha! I hope you didn't think it was on reference to this thread @Shoshin - it's just that I received lots of those videos recently of people changing the lyrics to songs. You know what I mean
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You get too close?
Achoo!
No I didn't @Bunks ....
Be thankful you don't live in my house. My husband does it ALL. THE. TIME.
Wot no words ... iz zen poem!?
Perhaps this should be a ‘croonavirus’ poem...
It reminds me of this old nursery rhyme
"Ring-a-ring o' roses,
A pocket full of posies,
A-tishoo! A-tishoo!
We all fall down"
@Shoshin
The only version I ever heard was:
Ring around the rosey
Pockets full of posies,
Ashes, Ashes!
We all fall down.
Ring around the rosey = describing the sign one has contracted the plague
Pockets full of posies = to cover the smell of death after one passed.
Ashes, Ashes = all those who died of the plague and all their possessions that might also be contaminated is burned.
We all fall down = we all die (all those who contract the plague)
The one I posted was the only version I knew of growing up in the UK...
We had that version at school here too (South Australia)
We learnt not one, but 2 verses...
A Ring around the roses
A pocket full of posies
Atisshoo! Atishoo!
We all fall down!
A ring a ring of rosy
London Town's a forzy*
To ashes, to ashes
it all falls down!
The first verse details the plage.
The second, the Great Fire of London, in 1666.
(* Old Local colloquial English for Forge or Furnace )
Anxiety creeps
for fear of the old dying.
Abiraunken.
The earth is solid.
The water is great and blue.
Abiraunken.
A lamp is a guide.
The wind is freed from the ground.
Space is freed from air.
Abiraunken.
This mind is calm and silent --
this mind and all minds.
These solidities,
fluidities, airy things,
heat, this emptiness,
these consciousnesses,
this great Abiraunken,
are one relation.
The dust, a droplet,
a spark, a breeze, and the sky,
all rest in this mind --
the ocean of light --
the immoveable beacon --
sweet Vairocana.
It doesn't rhyme. I didn't read the fine print of the thread. Oh dear. I'll have to do penance.
Give me a hundred verse of rhyming poetry
It'll have to be in given in bits.
I think we ought to open this up to sonnets,
which to English ears and mouths are sweet,
unless the rhyming makes you want to vomit.
(Rhyming often is a divisive feat.)
I’d love to hear some Buddhist sonneteers
spin their webs of words, their proliferous verbs,
their nouns and their adjectival creative cheers,
while all pretend at sagehood, writing blurbs.
Sonnets, though, are harder than haikus,
and some folks barely grasp those rules of form.
A, B, A, B, C, D, C, D, E,
F, E, F, G, G – that is the norm.
A and A, they needn’t rhyme at all,
and that’s how you join a sonneteer cabal.
How to explain the matter of how to write
a sonnet? Tricky, tricky, indeed, it is.
How to explain the manner in which we might
approach it? Difficult it is, I say, this biz.
You have three quatrains – that is all you’ve got.
Tell your story in three, and then a treat
in iambic pentameter wrought.
(The volta is a striking final glee.)
Don’t be shy, give it an unpolished try.
A sonnet is a true human bleat.
Like goats, we make our sounds, our rounds, we sigh,
we ask our endless litany of “why?”
Don’t you feel clever, writing a meagre sonnet?
Bet you didn’t think I’d end with “grommet.”
In the last sonnet, I broke a sacred rule,
by all accounts complete I had the gist,
but schemata for sonnets are a tool
for the purposes of this long list.
In light of this, we can from schema stray
if insight ours can serve us as an ark.
The rules of rhyme are but a license gave
that we might strive for brilliance in our dark.
If we’ve courage and a certain wordy background,
sonnets are but a mere formal frame.
If we wish to say something profound,
we’ve merely to cultivate a certain acclaim.
A Buddhist sonnet yet I have to see.
Fame in wordplay isn’t a Buddhist decree.
I follow all the rules
like precious jewels
and when dead
all is said.
Awesome, @Vimalajāti ...
Pertinent and to the point, @lobster ...
I started this threat to be kind
to those of us with a simple mind
for a wordsmiths I am not
hence why I like to rhyme a lot
There was a doctor who once said
"Don't let cronavirus go to your head"
For inside the body the virus grows
so wash your hands before picking your nose
👏👆👃
My partner read this poem on Twitter the other day. Apparently Twitter is good for something—who knew?
For the many who have lost friends family loved ones to cronavirus and can't attend their funerals...
Transient alas; are all component things,
Subject are they to birth and then decay.
Having gained birth, to death the life flux swings
Bliss truly dawns when unrest dies away
A Buddhist stanza said at funerals ...
Ajahn Brahm spoke about this issue during his Dhamma talk today. He emphasized not measuring a life by its last moments, but measuring it as a whole, remembering the happy times. And he spoke about the privateness of dying, whether we are there to provide company or not. In the end, we can’t follow them. It was an inspired talk; I really recommend it.
Thanks @adamcrossley ...I find his Dharma talks insightful and inspiring ...
The Tibetan Book of Living & Dying really hammered that point home to me. It was, when I first read it, an extraordinary piece of literature, and to my mind, still is.
I never tire of dipping into its pages, because wherever I land, there I am... reading wisdom.