#I lik the bred

[zhalfirin]

Bredlik Poems; Rosetta Stone Edition - collected and credited by @marvinhere

A compilation of Bredlik translations in different used and dead, existing and constructed languages.

materials used

cover covers - binders board, 1,5 spine stiffener - cardboard covering material - paper backed cotton onlays - paper (detail painted with acrylic paint) and goat leather title - hot stamped with heat activated foil

inner book book body - Munken pure, 100gsm endpapers - satogami (laser printed) endbands - button hole silk

format: ~A7

See some WIP pics here.

[saints-and-poets-maybe]

my name Javert, and wen im strest, or wen valjean i cant arest, and all my thots in hed ar moot - i bend the nee. i lik the boot.

[eri-pl]

my naym is ring and wen im on i help yu hide mayk problems gon i shou yu things that ar ahed i binde yur soul i mess yur head

my naym is silm im genius-mayd i show yu things that ar long fayd and then I mayk everyone die i am so greyt i mayk yu cry

my naym is melk and wen thers feast wen time is rite or im just pist i go and maim finwe and trees i steal the rocks i mess the ryme i do the diss*

my naym is mai ron im perfect i have pet wolfs and i collect monsters and spells i live in bog cant keep an elf get bit by dog

my naym is nom and im so wyse i left my hom in paradyse i met som men i lernd wyrd stuff i likd the wolf that was enuff

my naym is kano i am a bard i mayk sad songs and i cry hard sindar hav gem so i them stab i go to beach and now im crab

my naym is fyre and I nou grif my dad was killd by petty thif i swer an outh of eternal yre i meet balrogs my naym is fire

my naym is mae my dad mayd stuff i talkd with morgoth more than enuff I did bad things i fell to fyre now im in halls i lik threds for vaire

[i-scan-your-poems]

Would you please do a analysis of the famous "lik the bred" poem by reddit user poem_for_your_sprog?

my name is Cow, and wen its nite, or wen the moon is shiyning brite, and all the men haf gon to bed - i stay up late. i lik the bred.

"i lik the bred" is like maybe my favorite internet poem of all time! of course!

full scansion:

◡ – / ◡ – my name / is Cow, ◡ – / ◡ – and wen / its nite, ◡ – / ◡ – or wen / the moon ◡ – / ◡ – is shiy/ning brite, ◡ – / ◡ – and all / the men ◡ – / ◡ – haf gon / to bed- ◡ – / ◡ – i stay / up late. ◡ – / ◡ – i lik / the bred.

metrical form: iambic dimeter rhyme scheme: ABCB other notes: This could also be analyzed as AABB iambic tetrameter, but what I love about it is that after one long sentence, it breaks the syntactic unit in the middle of a couplet to create a surprising ending. Ink has been spilled over whether the non-standard orthography of this poem is intended to evoke archaism (as it is about an event that happened in an 18th-century historical reenactment) or the animal speaker (cf. the orthography of lolcatz memes).

[bestbredlik]

What is Bredlik about? What are Bredlik poems?

Bredlik is a fun little poetry style that was mostly popular 5+ years ago. They are mostly about animals, but can be able anything at all. The main rule is that the poem needs to follow a specific syllable count and rhyme scheme.

It's written in iambic dimeter, meaning that each line has only 4 syllables and the 2nd and 4th are the stressed (emphasized) ones.

It should have 8 lines and the rhyme should be xAxAxBxB. In other words, the 2nd and 4th line need to rhyme and the 6th and 8th as well. The final line usually stands out as something of a punchline.

Bredlike poems should also be written in the first person and most are intentionally misspelled in a fake-middle english style. I, personally, find that the misspelling often gets over-done to the point of being difficult to read fluidly.

This blog post explains the origin and structure in more detail.

[tissitpoispaita]

my name is rain

and winds that blo

and ripend grain

and glints on sno

do not stand at

my grayv and weep

i am not ther

i do not sleep

my name is birb

in sircled flite

and the soft stars

that shiyn at nite

do not stand at

my grayv and cry

i am not ther

i did not dy

[ineffable-xenanigans]

my name is Crol

and wen its shite

becos my Fell

haz gone bye bye

and all the wine

haz gone as well

i go to sleep

i am in hell

Previous part here

[patchworkpiratebear]

[jaskierx]

my name is yuk

and wen it’s time

to send poor lyse

some spam online

i find her blog

i have a browse

i send dm’s

extreamly aroused

[inaworldofhappy]

I needed a bread bag because all of our plastic ones were gone and it came out nice but boring

So of course

Did this take longer than making the bag itself?

Absolutely

Worth it

[spacefinch]

My naem is Shel

An in the sea

I go explorr

In the Gup-D

Whene’er I drive

I hav bad luck—

I cannae steer

I crash the Gup

[nubianamy]

[poetical-irony]

my naem is cat

dis is my skwad

the motorbikes

made to be pawd

my helmit big

not fit my hed

so we just hang

out here insted

[queen-mabs-revenge]

leave one piece of pita bread on the table for a second and suddenly *rasp rasp rasp*

[parody-bit]

Some cows are black,

While others are red,

But the thing that’s important

Is they'll lik the bred

[ithrysslurks]

The Fall of Gil-Galad: Bredlik version

his name was Gil and he was king, of him the har- pers sadly sing; his names mean 'prinse' and 'shiyning star' — but non know hu his parents ar.

hes Fingons son, haf many guessed, its sung in songs brot to the West, but theres much douwt he had a wiyfe, for Maedhros was his fren for liyfe.

the third age har- pers sing this some — from Orodreth he could haf come, but Gil was grayte, this elf, less sharp — of him the sing- ers rarely harp.

could Finrod fair haf been his dad? of this the har- pers think real sad, for Finrod lovd Amarië — and bak in Val- inor she stayd.

of Fëanor, some grasp for hints, or Sindarin: a long-lost prinse? a random elf got hipnotiyzed? or Findui- las, in disguiyse?

they call him Gil — Ereinion, ruld Lindon once, but now its gon; of sord, and lance, the harpers piyne, on shield and helm the stars did shiyne.

'but now hes ded!' cry harpers sad, not even El- rond knows Gils dad; unfinished til the Dagorath — the anchient tale of Gil-Galad.