Bouts Rimés means "rhymed ends" in French and
is a game or challenge where one person (me) makes a list of rhymed words and
others (you) write the lines that end with those rhymes, in the same order in
which they were given. It was known as Crambo in English and was quite popular
in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Will you help me bring back this
hip historical habit?
Here's a photo I took of a little shelled friend I visit sometimes when my thoughts need to bend. Use it with your poem if you like or tell us of your 'friend' who causes creative spikes.
Imaginary
Fantasy
Audacity
Traveling
Unraveling
Memory
Trajectory
Above are the words.
Get writing rhyme nerds!
There will be no winner. This is just for fun.
If you will, rhyme a smile here for everyone.
If you will, rhyme a smile here for everyone.
Gina Paulina Smith
ReplyDeleteI have a special bunbury.
But not exactly imaginary.
She's not a sexy fantasy.
Your thoughts are an audacity!
My companion just for travelling,
She directs when I'm unravelling.
To aid disjointed memory,
And spare a wrong trajectory.
Very cute! I can almost hear a whiny voice yelling the second couplet at me. :)
DeleteLOL - I literally laughed at my own suggestion for the name of this (crambo) poem.
DeleteI love it when that happens!! I love the ring of Gina Paulina... :)
DeleteYes, thought it went together well. The trouble was thinking of a last name. I went with the standard SMITH. Can't go wrong with that.
DeleteDefinitely... and you wouldn't want something so flashy that it distracts from the lovely Gina Paulina part. :)
DeleteI ditched him for a Bunbury,
ReplyDeletean appointment quite imaginary,
a concocted little fantasy,
a creation of some audacity.
But I needed to be traveling.
Couldn't stay there, mind unraveling,
and bear another mundane memory,
my eyes scouting a trajectory.
Imaginary friends are so much easier to get along with, right? :)
DeleteGreat to see you here Bryan! Thanks for joining in the Crambo games.
Here's my attempt... (No title yet)
ReplyDeleteThey said she was a bunbury -
Completely, absolutely imaginary,
A flowery, finicky fantasy,
Conjured by my audacity -
Yet whether world traveling
Or enduring doldrums unraveling,
Her presence was no mere memory,
But the force field of my trajectory.
having dinner with my Bunbury
ReplyDeleteforget for a second it's Imaginary
permit me my dinner roll fantasy Fantasy
haha he is so full of Audacity
is it yet another road we are Traveling
and what i see Unraveling
is it all just my own Memory
and no way to affect both/our Trajectory
Your dinner roll is your bunbury? Does he/she scream, "Don't eat me!"? :)
DeleteThanks for participating Brian.
I wish I had a bunbury
ReplyDeleteWho isn't just imaginary,
And our pranks more than just fantasy.
We'd test our limits of audacity
As, around the world traveling
And mysteries unraveling,
We'd impose on others' memory
A déjà vu trajectory.
I love that last line! It really makes me think. :) Thank you for playing.
DeleteLike the in-a-pinch bunbury
ReplyDeleteMost of the world in which we live is imaginary
The things we see and read stitch together our own personal fantasy-
A place where we need not question our own audacity
From start to finish we spend our lives traveling
Through the world, facing its unknowns and unraveling
By the end, all we ever were was string of memories
drawing projections with unpredictable trajectories
I'm sorry I didn't comment on this sooner. (I thought I had.) I really like wording in the final couplet and the idea that we are a string of memories - as if we can't be seen, only remembered, because by the time we see, it has already passed.
Delete