I have to give this one to... DARKMUSE! Congrats
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I have to give this one to... DARKMUSE! Congrats
Thank you!
I will get thinking on what the next form should be
I am going to go with an old favorite of mine, the Ghazal.
The Ghazal is usually made up of at least 5 and typically no more than 15 couplets. Each couplet should be able to stand on its own as its own individual poem. Each line of the poem should be the same length, but in English meter is not imposed. The last couplet
usually refers to the poets signature (name or pen name or some derivation of the names meaning ) and refers to the poet in the third or first person .
There is a refrain of one to three words, and an inline rhyme that precedes the refrain.
Some examples:
http://www.cranberrydesigns.com/poet...l/examples.htm
The bright days of gladness, obscured by dark depression
Is the only answer to give in to violence and aggression?
Trying to paint another life is quite a good suggestion
It's hard to force the brush from the hand of dark depression
Color introduced can make dark shadows lessen
But darkest grey is on the brush in the hand of cold depression
The anger builds, the volcano grows, explosion of aggression
Can I do naught to block the cursed spread of deep depression?
Ah, Pen, poor fool, your anger burns, but fueled by hot aggression
Draw strength from it's fire and fight the spread of bitter, cold depression
Pendragon
(C) 4/10/2012
Cherie
When you're that mad with me my sun won't rise, Cherie.
I'm somber begging rain to clear the skies, Cherie.
Those oaks befriending maples in the park
Are shamed and shocked to hear your heartless lies, Cherie.
Some stars might help to guide our wayward souls
But none of them now leads me from these cries, Cherie.
Till winds can take my ashes to the bay
My heart still lives yet while it's aching dies, Cherie.
Your slave's too long enchanted with this pain.
Unfriendly hope gains stronger wings and flies, Cherie.
Wrap my shoulders in soft arms of a lover.
Heal my wounds with the charms of a lover.
Drown me in daisies so I may discover
The torturous pious bouquet of a lover.
Twisted in circles like the gaze of lost brothers,
Lose my mind in the maze of a lover.
With God as my witness, I shall glance at no other.
My eyes shall not stray from the dance of my lover.
Let pain be my savior, for no heart has suffered
As the vulnerable moon-shadowed heart of a lover.
Gazelle, by tailor STATELY
The savanna teems with wildlife in abundance
amidst the stridulations of insects in their abundance
The gazelle flourishes in her niche in the circle of life
where grass is easy to find, and mates are in abundance
Still. One must be wary; for the lion reaps while others sow
and other predators are in watch amongst the abundance
The tick seeks its prey, albeit more haphazardly, in wait
for the first warm- blooded creature; there is a great abundance
And the Tick-Tick bird rides about on the herds that mingle
together raising a low dust on the rift-valley floor of abundance
And so, tailor, we see a microcosm at work in harmony
where the dung beetle reigns as king, even as we, in abundance
5/24/2012
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY
Thank you all for your entries. I thought you all did a great job with it, and there was a tough call.
Pendragon: As always a perfectly well crafted poem. I love the depth of emotion of it. It was quite evocative, and you did have one of my favorite incorporations of your name within the last verse. Well done, always a pleasure to read.
YesNo: I really enjoyed reading your poem. There was some great imagery and I found the opening line really grabbed my attention and made me want to keep reading. I quite enjoyed your use of Cherie as the repletion, for some reason it also made me think of Pairs in the 1920s.
moonbird: You had some beautiful imagery in your poem. I particularly enjoyed the line "My eyes shall not stray from the dance of my lover." I also found the concept of the poem interesting. I loved the last line and thought your use of the your name in the poem was beautifully done.
And the winner is.......
tailor STATELY: I loved the vivid image you created of the African savanna, it evoked many of my different senses, which is something I always enjoy in my poem and made the scene really come to life in my mind. I thought it had a great atmosphere and I thought it was rather clever. Also I quite enjoyed the nature theme of this poem.
Thank you Dark Muse!
I'll be back a bit later this evening (PDT) with the new form.
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY
Let's try this again (my browser blew up when I hit Preview Post the first time).
☻ New form Zejel (or Zahal):
☻ Syllable Count: Usually 8-syllables per line.
☻ A triplet starts the poem establishing the linking rhyme with the end line of the following quatrains.
☻ Use at least 2-quatrains; more is fine.
Rhyme Scheme:
a a a ................. Triplet
b b b a............... Quatrain1
c c c a............... Quatrain2
More info: http://rainbowcommunications.org/forms/Zejel.pdf
This is a relatively easy form - so use your imagination; and
End Date set for 10 days 6/18/2012
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY
Night Rain
The sky lets rain refresh the night.
Priscilla watches in the light
While pausing from a lover's fight.
Her Jim says he has got to go
And won't return tomorrow, so
The evening pounds as lovers grow
Apart though hearts are clenching tight.
Who knows why they have gone this far?
The rain starts beating on his car
Which helps them notice who they are
While anger tries to block their sight.
It's then it seems that he will stay.
The rain relaxes as they say
They'll try again another way
To see each other's role play right.
A flame of fire lights up the sky
As ghosts and spirits flicker by
And I sit here where the shadows lie...
It's come my time to do my best
To voyage on a Vision Quest
Invoke my totem animal by request
To rise from where the shadows lie...
I sit unmoving like a stone
Feel like a child, barely half-grown,
The chill wind whispers that I'm not alone
Here where the silent shadows lie...
A cougar rises as the flames ascend
His growl a voice telling what the dreams portend
Our spirits join, and the whole transcends
My lonely life as the bright flame dies...
I walk back to the village more than mortal men
The cougar spirit buried deep within
My eyes alight with what no one comprehends
Never more shall I in shadows lie...
Pendragon
(C) 6/11/2012
Dollhouse:
My grandfather would listen to the Hornsea evening tides
he would compare them to incantations where ecstasy resides
grandmother complained that her husband was never really home
he compared wood to the soul in death searching for a form
a carpenter-he built my sister a dollhouse and me a horse
grandfather heard the grass growing he understood it's force
he would stare into the dolls house and share his visions
that night winds would blow the cottage free of it's fictions
On her last night grandmother opened the window and heard the sea
that night her husband finally arrived home and she for eternity
he would make wings for the horse and build a boat-his last creation
sailing at night he muttered his wife's name like an incantation
sleeping till morning the wind would carry his dreams in its suitcase
staring into the dolls house he watched grandmothers sleeping face
Between Here & After
The sky split open before me
standing here beneath the world tree
below the dead in slumber be.
Afar I hear the sirens sing
within my ears the echoes ring
that could humble even a king
a tempest rose upon the sea
Torn between life and waiting death
but one kiss hath stolen my breath
I gazed into the eyes of Seth
the raging winds will set me free
Neath the world tree I take my rest
as the Bard tells his final jest
and by the spirits I am blest
arose the cry of the Banshee.
Deadline already.
In order of reading:
YesNo - A Zejel with the touching tale of love gone sour; only to be reawakened with the night rain beating down, giving the poem a nice "turn" at S4 L1. The form was nicely encompassed within an 8-syllable/line format.
Pendragon - Enjoyed. A Zejel of a vision quest invoking a totem animal; retaining the totem animal within. The syllable count/line varied somewhat, but didn't seem to detract from the poem and its telling very much. Tres bien.
whitman - A bittersweet poem of a grandfather's folly and fantasy. While not a Zejel, it was well written and I enjoyed the tale.
Dark Muse - A poem of other-worldly tension; a Zejel with the form encompassed within an 8-syllable/line format. S3 really stood out for me.
After much deliberation I award Dark Muse as the winner. Congratulations.
Well done everyone!
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY