So just how hard is it to make people talk in meter and rhyme? If you are Shakespeare, apparently not that hard. If you are me, daunting.
And I want to create an entire book of poetry with people talking this way. I'm insane. I need to be infused with a little Alexander Pope, a dash of Dante, some... wait! I want people to be talking like it is 2009ish.
Bad extemporaneous example:
Ding-dong. "Hello?" I look through the peep hole,
do I know this woman in the blue stole?
"Hi there, come to our holiday party
we're starting tomorrow at six thirty."
I open my door a little wider
my dog charges out and tries to bite her...
Maybe aa bb rhyme a little too Seuss? My meter sucks. Heroic couplets a fools quest? All end stopped boredom. Just hand me that glass of wine and I'll drown my ambitions. Or does this call for some bracing up with the Norton Anthology? It's fat enough to whack my brain with. Jim would tell me near rhyme is a desecration, but my muse allows it. Free verse isn't called free for nothing, it is easier! I'll go crawl under that excuse known as work deadlines as I mull, brew, and whine this one over.
Showing posts with label talking rhymey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label talking rhymey. Show all posts
Sunday, December 21, 2008
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