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Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Soul. Had this peculiar being : Writing game 3

Being peculiar, this had soul.
Neither rite nor rap?
Not right or wrong
No matter
The rhythm played with my feet
But I couldn’t catch it
The tune played with my brain
But I couldn’t remember it
Inimitably catchy
Annoyingly familiar
But I couldn’t hum it
But weirdly wonderful
The mathematical perfection of 3 into 5
The off-beat beat of jazz

 Helen Springall 6th September 2011

4 comments:

  1. Nice poem! I especially like the lines from 5 to 11 :)

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  2. Great Poem - with a great pulse Helen!

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  3. "Off-beat beat of jazz" Brilliant!

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  4. Agree with Kristian here on the line he singled out...

    I also like the backwards line in perfect iambic tetrameter, but wonder why that meter doesn't come back at the end, as a standard melody might come back and be recognizable at the end of the jazz-men's improvisation...

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