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Thread: Pel's May 2018 Pip Challenge

  1. #11
    Original
    The Saga of Elmore of Ire

    In the kingdom of Iskaria,
    during the reign of Queen Penaria.
    like moldy bread,
    Chiacchiere’s dread spread.

    The sages were speechless.
    The priests were dreamless
    The commoners were still outcast.
    The call for help went out.

    To solve this conundrum,
    and stop the drought.
    Those as hard as corundrum,
    were hoped to come out.

    Brave to a fault, one and all,
    an English hansard, Beowulf, Siegfried, and Brunhild.
    They failed all and
    were last seen heading to Nepal.

    A traveler from Ire, near the Land of Nod
    He heard of this quest
    Saying, “Just a medal for my chest.
    So you can all applaud.”

    The sages were skeptical,’
    “He’s not one of us.”
    “You’re all so protreptical,
    You all look like gloomy gus.”

    Nobles heard what he did,
    their hearts filled with fear.
    Him they forbid
    so suffer his Bronx cheer, they did.

    The priests were smart,
    They invited him in.
    El baffled them with his dark art.
    They were all filled with chagrin.

    To the commoners he went last
    Showing them the cure
    “To your dreams always holdfast.
    And life will be so de jur.”

    Back to Penaris’s throne he went
    The Chiacchiere’s curse, already lifting
    To his reward she gave consent
    “How did you do this? I must be insisting.”

    “Dear Queen, I just explained,
    words are ike candles, giving light for all to see.
    Not just for nerds
    Or to be seen with a cup of tea.”

    “The fire that you gifted,
    has spread the cure, throughout my land.
    You’ll be honored and revered
    I’ll give you my hand.”

    We look back on that day.
    When Chiacchiere was banished.
    Bards and poets all hold sway,
    On Jennday, we celebrate St, Elomo’s Fire.”

    Revision #1


    The Saga of Elmore of Ire

    In the kingdom of Iskaria,
    during the reign of Queen Penaria.
    like moldy bread,
    Chiacchiere’s dread did spread.

    The sages were speechless.
    The priests were dreamless
    The commoners were still outcast.
    The call for help went out.

    To solve this conundrum,
    and stop the drought.
    Those as hard as corundrum,
    were hoped to come out.

    Brave to a fault, one and all,
    Beowulf, Siegfried, and Brunhild.
    were last seen heading to Nepal.
    Their pockets still well filed.

    A traveler from Ire, near the Land of Nod
    He heard of this quest
    Saying, “Just a medal for my chest.
    So you can all applaud.”

    The sages were skeptical,’
    “He’s not one of us.”
    “You’re all so protreptical,
    You all look like gloomy gus.”

    Nobles heard what he did,
    their hearts filled with fear.
    Him entry they forbid
    so suffer his Bronx cheer, they did.

    The priests were smart,
    They invited him in.
    El baffled them with his dark art.
    They were all filled with chagrin.

    To the commoners he went last
    Showing them the cure
    “To your dreams always holdfast.
    And life will be so de jur.”

    Back to Penaris’s throne he went
    The Chiacchiere’s curse, already lifting
    To his reward she gave consent
    “How did you do this? I must be insisting.”

    “Dear Queen, I just explained,
    words are like candles, giving light for all to see.
    Not just for nerds
    Or to be read with a cup of tea.”

    “The fire that you gifted,
    has spread the cure, throughout my land.
    You’ll be honored and revered
    I’ll gladly give you my hand.”

    We look back on that day.
    When Chiacchiere was banished.
    Bards and poets all hold sway,
    On Jennday, we celebrate St, Elomo’s Fire.”
    "Illegitimi non carborundum " Vinegar' Joe Stilwell

    "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." Martin Luther King Jr.

    What you learn in life is important, those you help learn, are more important.

    "They can because they think they can."
    ​Virgil

  2. #12
    Quote Originally Posted by Pelwrath View Post
    Original
    The Saga of Elmore of Ire

    In the kingdom of Iskaria,
    during the reign of Queen Penaria.
    like moldy bread,
    Chiacchiere’s dread spread. What is the dread? The reader has no context as to why and what this is...Want the reader to keep reading, delineate and define the dread.

    The sages were speechless.
    The priests were dreamless
    The commoners were still outcast. Why are the commners still outcast. Remove the still, it serves no function.
    The call for help went out. Ungrounded action. Why or what is doing the calling to who, and why? You have not defined the dread. This is an issue, the undefined dread, as it is the driving source of the piece. Just like questing with Nameless Guy...

    To solve this conundrum, What conundrum? Is it just the drought?
    and stop the drought.
    Those as hard as corundrum, Read this line, hard as corundrum, who is being referenced? And come out of where? You have no subject and no direct object. Plothole...Each stanza has to have a purpose and this one has not really fulfilled any measureable function except to add to the obscurity of the issue. Define the issue, who is effected, who is doing the solving and why.
    were hoped to come out.

    Brave to a fault, one and all,
    an English hansard, Beowulf, Siegfried, and Brunhild. Remove English hansard, keep it with the identified epic characters Beowulf, Siegfried, and Brunhild
    They failed all and
    were last seen heading to Nepal. This stanza works. Humour and function. The issue, rhyme scheme. It is broken in this stanza, both in pattern and in placement.

    e.g.

    Beowulf, Brunhild, and Seigfried,
    brave to a fault, one and all,
    their failed attempt left dread free,
    they--last seen headed to Nepal.


    A traveler from Ire, near the Land of Nod Same issue with rhyme scheme in this stanza. Envelope quatrain not standard. Maintain or it kicks the reader out of the groove.
    He heard of this quest You still have not defined the quest. At this point the reader is asking, 'What quest? What point and why do I need to care...' There is nothing tactile to relate to.
    Saying, “Just a medal for my chest.
    So you can all applaud.” I love the petty honesty of this line.

    e.g.

    A Man of Ire, near the Land of Nod,
    thought: Ah, what is this new quest?
    Soon they will cheer and applaud
    and pin a goldn medal to my chest.

    The sages were skeptical,’
    “He’s not one of us.”
    “You’re all so protreptical, The meaning of protrepic is to persuade, a direct contradiction of the prior line. If you want to use the word, the Man from Ire needs to be the one using it on the sages, not telling them they look persuasive...Also, who is doing the speaking? The sages on the second line is clear, but if you switch speakers mid stanza, please indicate a new speaker.
    You all look like gloomy gus.”

    e.g.

    The sages were skeptical.
    'He is not one of us.'
    And the Man of Ire, so protreptical,
    said, 'I'm better than a bilious platypus.'


    Nobles heard what he did,
    their hearts filled with fear. What did this nameless guy from Ire do? These people have no reason to fear this guy, seriously. Define and identify characters, small details and deeds.
    Him they forbid What did they forbid? No one has done anything at this point? Also, broken rhyme scheme again. One this that is a requisite of the ballad, is a consistent rhyme scheme. This one is ABAA. You have had Abab, AbbA, AbAA...Pick a scheme and stick with it.
    so suffer his Bronx cheer, they did.

    The priests were smart,
    They invited him in. Who are the priests invititing in? Questing Guy does not have a name or a goal at this point. And what dark art? From the context, Questing Guy could be painting with black and grey paint. You really need to focus on actually developing this guy as a character, not just an obscure group of pronouns.
    El baffled them with his dark art.
    They were all filled with chagrin Why were they filled with chargin? You have no action for the reaction. No central plot or point that is being worked toward.

    To the commoners he went last
    Showing them the cure Cure for what, when there was nothing in existence to begin with? This is the Emperor's New Clothes. A whole lot of fuss about nothing at all.
    “To your dreams always holdfast.
    And life will be so de jur.” How is this a cure for anything and why would the commoners heed him when he has done nothing?

    Back to Penaris’s throne he went
    The Chiacchiere’s curse, already lifting What curse? Nothing happened. The quantitative element that was the source of the quest has never been identified, quantified, defined, or explained.
    To his reward she gave consent Consent to what? Again, ungrounded reactions for no action whatsoever.
    “How did you do this? I must be insisting.” This is simple, poor grammar. Address the conjugation of the rhyme scheme. Remove the ing and the root word rhyme will hold.

    “Dear Queen, I just explained, There has not been a whit of explaining in this whole piece, as words are needed to define the problem in the first place and the absence of those words negates the very existence of a problem. Words are like candles, light it, read it, and see the truck driving through the plot hole...
    words are ike candles, giving light for all to see.
    Not just for nerds
    Or to be seen with a cup of tea.” This line is a stretch. Rhyme for the sake of rhyme. You want people to heed Ire, well, he needs to take heed of how words work and what they can and should do. Words need to be effective if they are to illuminate. The Man from Ire, is still sitting in the dark.

    “The fire that you gifted,
    has spread the cure, throughout my land.
    You’ll be honored and revered
    I’ll give you my hand.”

    We look back on that day.
    When Chiacchiere was banished.
    Bards and poets all hold sway,
    On Jennday, we celebrate St, Elomo’s Fire.”

    Revision #1


    The Saga of Elmore of Ire

    In the kingdom of Iskaria,
    during the reign of Queen Penaria.
    like moldy bread,
    Chiacchiere’s dread did spread.

    The sages were speechless.
    The priests were dreamless
    The commoners were still outcast.
    The call for help went out.

    To solve this conundrum,
    and stop the drought.
    Those as hard as corundrum,
    were hoped to come out.

    Brave to a fault, one and all,
    Beowulf, Siegfried, and Brunhild.
    were last seen heading to Nepal.
    Their pockets still well filed.

    A traveler from Ire, near the Land of Nod
    He heard of this quest
    Saying, “Just a medal for my chest.
    So you can all applaud.”

    The sages were skeptical,’
    “He’s not one of us.”
    “You’re all so protreptical,
    You all look like gloomy gus.”

    Nobles heard what he did,
    their hearts filled with fear.
    Him entry they forbid
    so suffer his Bronx cheer, they did.

    The priests were smart,
    They invited him in.
    El baffled them with his dark art.
    They were all filled with chagrin.

    To the commoners he went last
    Showing them the cure
    “To your dreams always holdfast.
    And life will be so de jur.”

    Back to Penaris’s throne he went
    The Chiacchiere’s curse, already lifting
    To his reward she gave consent
    “How did you do this? I must be insisting.”

    “Dear Queen, I just explained,
    words are like candles, giving light for all to see.
    Not just for nerds
    Or to be read with a cup of tea.”

    “The fire that you gifted,
    has spread the cure, throughout my land.
    You’ll be honored and revered
    I’ll gladly give you my hand.”

    We look back on that day.
    When Chiacchiere was banished.
    Bards and poets all hold sway,
    On Jennday, we celebrate St, Elomo’s Fire.”

    Pel,

    I like the idea of this, but you need to actually develop your storyline. You have Questing Guy, no name, no tangible quest, wherein no one has done anything. You infer a lot of things but you don't actually give the reader the slightest idea of what this dread and the quest are about. Essentially, this guy took blatant advantage of people too dumb to ask a basic question. What is the the problem and how can we fix it?

    Also, rhyme scheme needs major TLC. Pick a pattern and stick with it. Give Ire a name, and identify what the dread is, and how it is resolved. This are crucial if this piece is to function as a viable narrative.

    - D.


  3. #13
    Darrkin;
    Thanks soo much for your in depth commentary. It's of great help and greatly appreciated. First the word "chiacchiere" is Italian for chatter, I was using it for the term Jibber Jabber as that doesn't translate. The quest is to solve the "dread" of people always using or being Jibber Jabbers.

    The conumdrum is Chiacchiere. I mention his name in the title Elmore. in my notes I shortened it to El and that came out as El of Ire, the pun being Ire=wrath so I have Elwrath. I was trying to be funny, sarcastic and poetic at the same time, an anti ballad or saga.

    Looks like I need to reacquaint myself with the delete button on this one.
    "Illegitimi non carborundum " Vinegar' Joe Stilwell

    "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." Martin Luther King Jr.

    What you learn in life is important, those you help learn, are more important.

    "They can because they think they can."
    ​Virgil

  4. #14
    You have a name, use it instead of the parade of pronouns. And define at least once what chiacchiere means for the reader. Just because a name is in the title doesn't mean much, if you don't actually use it in the piece. You have the parts, make use of them. Context does not take much to clarify, it just seems like you were a little to fixated on the rhyme and not quite enough on the mechanics of the action to reaction aspects. Identify basics like a plague gibberish, (love the idea, by the way), but readers are going to skip over words that appear to be gibberish, especially if they don't speak the language they are in. Look up the term kenning and it might help with the Jibber, Jabber. Moreover, why not just use jibber jabber. The way it is set up right now, Chiacchiere comes across as a character, not an affliction, which is why you need to define what it is.

    Chiacchiere's dread. What the heck is Chaicchiere dreading? That is how the line translates, literally. You have a great idea, huge potential with this piece, just connect A to B, loose the prnouns and settle on a rhyme scheme. I read through the other pieces, and yours was honestly the one I like best. It kept my interest as a reader.

    - D.


  5. #15
    A ballad's rhyme pattern:

    Ballad rhyme often uses four-line stanzas, with common rhyming patterns being AABB or ABAB. Stanzas can have four, six, eight or even a dozen lines, depending on the intent of the writer, how he/she wishes to express him/herself, and where the expressive emphasis lies.

    I've never understood so perhaps it can be explained: What the heck is the difference between AABB, ABAB, AaBb, aabb, etc.? You use both upper and lower case letters but even the internet couldn't provide and answer I can understand. It's like capital is a pater and lower is the actual rhyme.
    Last edited by Pelwrath; Yesterday at 12:48 AM.
    "Illegitimi non carborundum " Vinegar' Joe Stilwell

    "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." Martin Luther King Jr.

    What you learn in life is important, those you help learn, are more important.

    "They can because they think they can."
    ​Virgil

  6. #16
    Pel, you have fourteen stanzas. A consistent rhyme scheme is well within your abilities as a poet...More than half are already ABAB. Keeping it consistent will also enhance rhythm and flow.


  7. #17
    Then i need to stop revising for the night because a I thought the original was AABB which is what I’m trying to do in the revision I’m working on, but that’s actually ABAB. I need sleep and a dictionary.
    "Illegitimi non carborundum " Vinegar' Joe Stilwell

    "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." Martin Luther King Jr.

    What you learn in life is important, those you help learn, are more important.

    "They can because they think they can."
    ​Virgil

  8. #18
    The Saga of Elmore of Ire

    In the kingdom of Iskaria, A
    during the reign of Queen Penaria. A
    like moldy bread, B
    Chiacchiere’s dread spread. B

    The sages were speechless. A
    The priests were dreamless A
    The commoners were still outcast. B
    The call for help went out. B

    To solve this conundrum, A
    and stop the drought. B
    Those as hard as corundrum, A
    were hoped to come out. B

    Brave to a fault, one and all, A
    an English hansard, Beowulf, Siegfried, and Brunhild. B
    They failed all and ?(b)
    were last seen heading to Nepal. A

    A traveler from Ire, near the Land of Nod A
    He heard of this quest B
    Saying, “Just a medal for my chest. B
    So you can all applaud.” A

    The sages were skeptical,’ A
    “He’s not one of us.” B
    “You’re all so protreptical, A
    You all look like gloomy gus.” B

    Nobles heard what he did, A
    their hearts filled with fear. B
    Him they forbid ?
    so suffer his Bronx cheer, they did. BOTH(?)

    The priests were smart, A
    They invited him in. B
    El baffled them with his dark art. A
    They were all filled with chagrin. B

    To the commoners he went last A
    Showing them the cure B
    “To your dreams always holdfast. A
    And life will be so de jur.” B

    Back to Penaris’s throne he went A
    The Chiacchiere’s curse, already lifting B
    To his reward she gave consent A
    “How did you do this? I must be insisting.” B

    “Dear Queen, I just explained, A
    words are ike candles, giving light for all to see. B
    Not just for nerds ?
    Or to be seen with a cup of tea.” B

    “The fire that you gifted, A
    has spread the cure, throughout my land. B
    You’ll be honored and revered ?
    I’ll give you my hand.” B

    We look back on that day. A
    When Chiacchiere was banished. B
    Bards and poets all hold sway, A
    On Jennday, we celebrate St, Elomo’s Fire.” ?


    It's obvious that rhyme pattern is something I'm not very good at or maybe better sticking to ONE pattern and I was so trying to make this rhyme!!!! NOw, I'm even more confused as to which one to use. Whatever I come up with probably couldn't be worse.
    Last edited by Pelwrath; Yesterday at 06:05 PM.
    "Illegitimi non carborundum " Vinegar' Joe Stilwell

    "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." Martin Luther King Jr.

    What you learn in life is important, those you help learn, are more important.

    "They can because they think they can."
    ​Virgil

  9. #19
    Original
    The Saga of Elmore of Ire

    In the kingdom of Iskaria,
    during the reign of Queen Penaria.
    like moldy bread,
    Chiacchiere’s dread spread.

    The sages were speechless.
    The priests were dreamless
    The commoners were still outcast.
    The call for help went out.

    To solve this conundrum,
    and stop the drought.
    Those as hard as corundrum,
    were hoped to come out.

    Brave to a fault, one and all,
    an English hansard, Beowulf, Siegfried, and Brunhild.
    They failed all and
    were last seen heading to Nepal.

    A traveler from Ire, near the Land of Nod
    He heard of this quest
    Saying, “Just a medal for my chest.
    So you can all applaud.”

    The sages were skeptical,’
    “He’s not one of us.”
    “You’re all so protreptical,
    You all look like gloomy gus.”

    Nobles heard what he did,
    their hearts filled with fear.
    Him they forbid
    so suffer his Bronx cheer, they did.

    The priests were smart,
    They invited him in.
    El baffled them with his dark art.
    They were all filled with chagrin.

    To the commoners he went last
    Showing them the cure
    “To your dreams always holdfast.
    And life will be so de jur.”

    Back to Penaris’s throne he went
    The Chiacchiere’s curse, already lifting
    To his reward she gave consent
    “How did you do this? I must be insisting.”

    “Dear Queen, I just explained,
    words are ike candles, giving light for all to see.
    Not just for nerds
    Or to be seen with a cup of tea.”

    “The fire that you gifted,
    has spread the cure, throughout my land.
    You’ll be honored and revered
    I’ll give you my hand.”

    We look back on that day.
    When Chiacchiere was banished.
    Bards and poets all hold sway,
    On Jennday, we celebrate St, Elomo’s Fire.”

    Revision #1


    The Saga of Elmore of Ire

    In the kingdom of Iskaria,
    during the reign of Queen Penaria.
    like moldy bread,
    Chiacchiere’s dread did spread.

    The sages were speechless.
    The priests were dreamless
    The commoners were still outcast.
    The call for help went out.

    To solve this conundrum,
    and stop the drought.
    Those as hard as corundrum,
    were hoped to come out.

    Brave to a fault, one and all,
    Beowulf, Siegfried, and Brunhild.
    were last seen heading to Nepal.
    Their pockets still well filed.

    A traveler from Ire, near the Land of Nod
    He heard of this quest
    Saying, “Just a medal for my chest.
    So you can all applaud.”

    The sages were skeptical,’
    “He’s not one of us.”
    “You’re all so protreptical,
    You all look like gloomy gus.”

    Nobles heard what he did,
    their hearts filled with fear.
    Him entry they forbid
    so suffer his Bronx cheer, they did.

    The priests were smart,
    They invited him in.
    El baffled them with his dark art.
    They were all filled with chagrin.

    To the commoners he went last
    Showing them the cure
    “To your dreams always holdfast.
    And life will be so de jur.”

    Back to Penaris’s throne he went
    The Chiacchiere’s curse, already lifting
    To his reward she gave consent
    “How did you do this? I must be insisting.”

    “Dear Queen, I just explained,
    words are like candles, giving light for all to see.
    Not just for nerds
    Or to be read with a cup of tea.”

    “The fire that you gifted,
    has spread the cure, throughout my land.
    You’ll be honored and revered
    I’ll gladly give you my hand.”

    We look back on that day.
    When Chiacchiere was banished.
    Bards and poets all hold sway,
    On Jennday, we celebrate St, Elomo’s Fire.”

    Version #2

    The Saga of Elmore of Ire

    In the kingdom of Iskaria,
    during the reign of Queen Penaria.
    like moldy bread,
    The Jibber Jabber dread did spread.

    The sages solutions were never understood
    The prayers of priests read like falsehoods
    The commoners were treated as leapers and outcast,
    Penaria’s S.O.S, was hastily broadcast.

    To stop the spread
    of the Jibber Jabber dread
    Hero’s well read
    were summoned to Iskaria’s homestead.

    Beowulf, Brunhild, and Siegfried
    they attempted to make the people free.
    Failed one and all.
    they were last seen heading to Nepal.

    El from Ire, near the Land of Nod
    heard of this quest: “I’’ll make them all applaud
    after I solve this quest,
    for the medal Penaria will pin on my chest.”

    The sages were skeptical,
    “You’re not very protreptical.”
    “You don’t understand, because you’re not one of us.”
    “You should be more like Marcus Antonius”

    The nobles wouldn’t acknowledge his exploit.
    “Don’t be so maladroit.”
    Elmore’s entry they still did forbid.
    “Act more like El Cid.”

    The priests were smart using their word art.
    El baffled them with his a la cart.
    They invited him in,
    to be filled with chagrin.

    To the commoners he went last
    “To your dreams always holdfast.
    And life will be so de jure,
    now you’ll be able to adjure.”

    To Penaria’s throne, at last he went
    To his reward she now must consent
    The Jibber Jabber curse, slowly lifting
    “How did you do this? I must insist.”

    “Dear Queen, words are like burning candles,
    what one can read, one can handle.
    Giving light for all to see
    not just to be read with a cup of tea.”

    “The fire that you gifted,
    the curse it has lifted.
    You’ll be honored and revered throughout the land,
    I’ll even offer you my hand.”

    We look back on that day.
    When Jibber Jabber held sway.
    Now, Bards and poets all aspire,
    For on Jennday, we celebrate St, Elomo’s Fire.”
    "Illegitimi non carborundum " Vinegar' Joe Stilwell

    "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." Martin Luther King Jr.

    What you learn in life is important, those you help learn, are more important.

    "They can because they think they can."
    ​Virgil

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