Chris Sturdy

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Original text in yellow, anagram in pink.

An acrostic poem anagrammed into another acrostic poem, in which the acrostic is also an anagram of its original.

The Leader by Anonymous

Patient and steady with all he must bear,
Ready to accept every challenge with care,
Easy in manner, yet solid as steel,
Strong in his faith, refreshingly real.
Isn't afraid to propose what is bold,
Doesn't conform to the usual mold,
Eyes that have foresight, for hindsight wont do,
Never back down when he sees what is true,
Tells it all straight, and means it all too.
Going forward and knowing he's right,
Even when doubted for why he would fight,
Over and over he makes his case clear
Reaching to touch the ones who won't hear.
Growing in strength, he won't be unnerved
Ever assuring he'll stand by his word.
Wanting the world to join his firm stand,
Bracing for war, but praying for peace,
Using his power so evil will cease,
So much a leader and worthy of trust,
Here stands a man who will do what he must.

Govern and Flop by GWB

Teaching this way to America's friend,
Has shown the deceit on which they depend.
It's both a con and a mind-trick. Arrogant fools
Subliminally message Pakistan's schools.
But now it's over - we see through the scam,
Unforeseen woes could befall Uncle Sam;
General Musharraf will have to admit
George's no leader, he's just an old git.
Even the author wanted no credit
Remaining anonymous despite having said it.
Not that we want the two to fall out
Earth's very health is already in doubt.
Eager to further the myth he is right,
Denying hard fact his English is shite,
Shallow war words and foolish hard-sell
Praying won't help, when off to hell.
Oh, when enforcing the War Against Terror
We're serving Dubya; wow, what an error!
Everybody, it's down in this verse
Rednecks and poets turn the world worse!

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A beauty from The Sound of Music

Do a deer a female deer
Re a drop of golden sun
Mi a name I call myself
Fa a long long way to run
So a needle pulling thread
La a note to follow so
Ti a drink with jam and bread
That will bring us back to Do

Sham from Lloyds bank

Owe, a debt, an unpaid debt
Pay us sum or go to jail
Fee, add sum for calling late
Far, how near you'd get to bail
Woe, alarm and much to dread
Ta, for selling me full loan
Free, to sink into the red
And once again I'll owe

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The anagram I did in 39960 was as the result of a promise I made to my cousin to spread the word about a poetry initiative she is involved in. Apologies if it wasn't of interest, but I thought with the standard of verse you guys come up with, poetry is clearly something that appeals to some of you.

My cousin, Frances Howarth, who is herself a published poet and who has been involved with writing and poetry for many years has recently become involved with a new initiative to get poetry to a wider audience. The site is http://www.passonapoem.com/ and offers visitors the chance to read poems other visitors have particularly enjoyed, and beyond that, offers advice on reading them aloud as well as news and events.

The anagram I did tries to achieve three things:
The first is to establish my relationship with the poem and give it some biographical details
The second part puts forward the spirit of poap (I quite liked "Be local! Be vocal!" as a kind of mantra)
And the final part is an attempt at a poetic incantation which offers advice and might invoke the God of Public Speaking and call on him for help for those for whom the idea of reading poetry aloud is anathema!

If anyone wants more details then please visit the site or drop me a line on ten.enoenil@ydruts.sihrc (I'm sure you see what I've done there!)

Do We Become by Frances Howarth

In the threshing of the crop and the thrashing of a tree,
at the midnight hour, in a midflight soar,
water striking stone, wind turning vane,
the racing of the wave, the chasing of the shade,
the mystery of wine, the breaking of time,
stalk cut, blood let, up root,
owl hoot, lamb bleat, night jar,
breeze through a door, light dance on the floor,
cloth shaken, folded, lain in a drawer,
wool wound, tower round, bell sound,
leap, lilt, low, lope,
echo, thunder, clatter, glance,
rattle, tumble, tremble, chance,
clouds build, count yield, wound healed:
not in the pull and push of passion's plea
do we become, but in this downdive into self
for each coin, every piece, of this world's wealth.

That fine poem, written by my mother's cousin, was published in the Guardian and included in Earth Songs (editor Peter Abbs, publisher Green Books).

Know one million poems that you love enough to want to share with or tell the world? Had the thought? Then how about going to www.passonapoem.com, connect with others and read aloud in a cafe, school or bar.
The forum is Frances' current project, which fights to catch the public imagination and get hitherto unknown verse to a wide audience.
A fight well worth the effort.
Be local! Be vocal!

O Skill!
Don't freeze, fly. Don't fold.

Stage-fright chilled the blood
Hold your nerve, feel it dude

Call that friend; he'll be there,
Lend an ear and hell will end.

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Updated: May 10, 2016


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