Showing posts with label present. Show all posts
Showing posts with label present. Show all posts

Monday, February 22, 2021

Poetic Form 100: Glosa

 Why Write Poetry

Whenever the question comes up,

the poets all say the same thing:

the only poem we’re interested in is the next poem,

the one not written, the poem of tomorrow.


“The Next Poem” - Billy Collins


I have read that poetry is not needed.

That the world will revolve without words

that rhyme or follow meter.

This might be true

for a life void of crayons,

or animals made with dixie cups,

glue, and construction paper.

I reply that poetry is in a child’s song,

in tears of a lifetime breakup,

whenever the question comes up.


All art draws a line for our souls.

Bringing the unimaginable

from abstract to concrete,

to keep us from drowning

in a sea filled with waves

caused by life, by everything.

A brush, a guitar string, or these

words I search for to create a moment

for the reader to take wing.

The poets all say the same thing.


A poem is a present we send

to an unexpected world not knowing

if anyone will appreciate the 

painting inside the paper and bow.

Every word a small piece of truth

to inspire the lonesome,

the joyful, and the budding artist.

Poets write to stitch the fabric of living

for the pages of history. It’s known

the only poem we’re interested in is the next poem.


So, take these lines at this time

as a chance to see the frame

of a life lived, no matter how far away

from the emotions pulsing through

your veins. Grab a brush, a pair of scissors,

tap a tune that defines the depth of woe.

The world will turn, no matter what art is not created.

But the colors and emotions will be faded. 

I’ll be living, feeling the edges of a new rhyme though,

the one not written, the poem of tomorrow.


Poetic Form #100: Glosa

The Glosa or Glose is a Spanish poetic form that uses a quatrain from another 

poet’s work to structure the poet’s poem.

The form guidelines are:

1. A cabeza (or motto) – the quatrain borrowed from another poet, whose 

authorship must be acknowledged

2. Four 10-line stanzas, each ending with one of the lines in sequence from the cabeza.

3. The rhyme-scheme requirement is lines 6 and 9 rhyme with the final word of line 10 

of each stanza.

Thursday, December 31, 2020

Poetic Form 70: Cascade

 This Poem

I give you these words

Punched out of my soul

To use as you wish


Every letter crafted with care

Even the spaces between are important

I give you these words


So we can hold time in place

Colored with emotions

Punched out of my soul


This is my present

Wrapped with a title

To use as you wish



Poetic Form #70: Cascade 

The Cascade form was invented by Udit Bhatia. The poem uses each 

line from the first stanza and makes those the final lines of each stanza

afterward. After that, there are no rules for rhyming, meter, etc.

I used a tercet form.

Monday, December 28, 2020

Poetic Form 66: Ae Freislighe

Silent Night

I know what your emptiness

means for us in this moment.

Like a lost child’s faithfulness,

waiting for that wrapped present


under the tree, sorrowful

tears sting soft cheeks on Christmas.

Knowing there’s no tomorrow,

only a promise, because


I unwrapped your compromised

kisses under the darkness

of letters you plagiarized.

I know your love is starless.



Poetic Form#66: Ae Freislighe

The Irish poetic form, Ae Freislighe, is an intense rhyming form. It is 
constructed with quatrain stanzas (4-line stanzas) with 7 syllables 
per line. Lines 1 and 3 rhyme with three syllables (xxa) and lines 2 
and 4 rhyme with two syllables (xb). The final syllable, word, or line 
of the entire poem is the same as the beginning of the poem. The poem 
can be one stanza or as long as the poet wants.

 

Monday, July 27, 2020

Poetic Form 49: Trimeric

The Wonder of...

We lost the wonder of an ordinary day,
hoping for validation in a grand moment,
believing joy appears like a comet on a winter night.
We never connect to the moment of the present.

Hoping for validation in grand moments
clouds our eyes from seeing the colors
the world is painted with. We search time

believing joy appears like a comet on a winter nights.
We wait for decades for the opportunity to know
that we are alive, that we deserve to be loved.

We never connect to the moment of the present.
To unwrap what is ours, to what has always been there,
a life filled with wonder wrapped in an ordinary bow.


Poetic Form #49: Trimeric
The trimeric form has 4 stanzas. The first stanza has 4 lines, with the other three 
stanzas written with 3 lines each. The first line of the 3 stanzas is a refrain of the 
corresponding line in the first stanza.  The 2nd stanza starts with the second line,
 third stanza starts with the third line, and the fourth stanza starts with the fourth line. 
There are no other rules on line length, meter, or rhyme.

Monday, July 6, 2020

Poetic Form 29: Free Verse

Believe


I’m trying to hold on, I swear, 
to believing in love.
Dear God, I feel like an 8 year old again,
hearing the stories that Santa isn’t real
from the school yard bullies.
Standing on that cusp of a belief
between what I feel on Christmas morning
and what my mind knows of the world.
Even though I can’t stand their voices,
their jaded taunts.
Always in a group, their laughter mean.
My mind knows there is truth
in their destruction of my joy.

Is there no longer a desire to see what love can do?
Have we dumped all our resources into hate?
The flames high,
heat radiating for days.
I know how tempting a fire is in the middle of a cold night.
Red flames dancing seductively,
promising to keep the wolves at bay.
But the fire will only burn if it is constantly fed.
There is only so much a person can sacrifice to pain,
until there are no more planks left to build a life with.

Dear God, I am tired!
My armour pierced.
My reserve spent.
My fingers blistering.
My body weak from holding my children away from
the onslaught of division and wreckage.
I am tired!
My eyes closed from the sweat dripping into them.
I want to believe,
I want
to believe.

To believe…

I believe,

I do...

I have lived long enough to know
that Christmas mornings
are still filled with joy
because I am the one that wraps the presents,
fills the stockings
and places the packages under the tree,
as all my children dream.

I know of the joy they will feel come morning,
because I believe.
I believe in love,
    even as I stand up on spent legs.


Poetic Form #29: Free Verse
Free verse is a form that is free from limitations of regular meter or rhythm, and 
does not rhyme with fixed forms, yet still uses literary devices like metaphors, 
personification, irony, and similes.

Friday, June 1, 2018

If you want to see forever


If you want to see forever
use the rest stop at mile marker 167
    On Interstate 90 in South Dakota
   Next to the town, Belvidere, population 49
    Watch the clouds fill the sky
        like a bag of cotton balls
    The grassy plain cuts the horizon miles away
You can see the thunderstorm in the east
    A curtain of rain
        that you will encounter only after traveling for hours

If you want to see forever
 sit with a child in front of a Christmas tree
    On Dec 23, with presents before you
    They already know which ones have their name
    Know the sound of what’s inside
        hoping it matches their dreams
    The stockings still empty on the banister
You can see the anticipation heavy in their eyes
    Smile already building
        that you secretly know will be beaming Christmas Eve

If you want to see forever
 watch a young couple in a restaurant
On their third date
Their gaze never far from each other
Laughter as they share food from the plates
    extending their forks across the table
    Bites playfully as their eyes lock
You can see how lost they are
    In their moment
        unaware of the bustle of everyday life around them

If you want to see forever
 stop to speak to the gentleman
    On the porch of a run-down home
    The years worn into his hands
    Life drying out his throat
        making his memories hard to share
    So they pile up behind his lungs, raspy and slow
You can see the effects of life on his shoulders
    Once square, now curved,
        waiting only for the day of rest

If you want to see forever
  breathe in at this moment
    On the next exhale
    Feel how your heart beats
    To the rhythm of your life
        created by choices and fate
    A paradoxical rule that no one knows
You can see time move through your relationships
    Loved ones and enemies
        all saying your name

If you want to see forever
   
open your heart

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Nothing Lasts Forever


So they say that nothing lasts forever
But I’ve discovered that they are wrong
Our Pasts
Our Yesterdays
Will always be
    Every moment you had
    Piling up like stones
    The weight breaks your collar bones
    Cracks in your heart from every lie you told

The past is forever
    Photos
        And social media posts
    Memories
        And letters in shoe boxes
All have ramifications for the present
The past filters our vision better than Instagram
 It dictates what future we can walk
    It predicts our scraped knees
        And ruined relationships

Because they say nothing lasts forever
But they are wrong
 The past is resistant
even to the end of the world

For my future is not guaranteed
    I don’t even know when my last breath will be
But the words I’ve spoken are now a part of our history...