The Creative Moment Challenge 1

 

The first The Creative Moment Challenge was to create a piece of art centered on the emotion sorrow. Here is my first draft of a poem and then using my original idea I crafted a shadorma poem. I talk about the process in our latest episode: The Creative Moment

Like a solitary tree

on the horizon of the mixed grass prairie

Sage and cactus speckle green

in sea of sun drenched buttes

You wonder what storm could bring

A single seed

to such a dry land 

break the ground apart 

drop it deep enough

to give this tree a chance

A chance to grow

All alone in this world

Shadorma: Spanish 6-line syllabic poem of 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllable lines for poem / stanza.

Like a tree

solitary on 

horizon 

of the mixed 

grass prairie. Sage and cactus 

speckle green in sea

of sun drenched

buttes. You wonder what 

storm could bring

a single seed

to such a dry land, break the 

ground apart, drop it 

deep enough

to give the tree a 

chance to grow

all alone

in this bare world. You sigh as

you feel your heart beat.

Poetic Form 43: Roundelay

Maybe I am Wrong

When we fall time after time,

nothing heals our broken dreams.

And maybe I am wrong about this lifetime,

maybe happiness is a lie, just another scheme.

Every “I love you” a crime.

Our minds echoing with sorrowful screams.

And maybe I am wrong about this lifetime,

maybe happiness is a lie, just another scheme.

The cards and flowers, words that rhyme,

only illusions, fairy tales it seems.

Every “I love you” a crime.

Our minds echoing with sorrowful screams.

The cards and flowers, words that rhyme,

only illusions, fairy tales it seems.

Promises are meant to be broken, I’m

losing faith in the purpose of time’s stream.

Every “I love you” a crime.

Our minds echoing with sorrowful screams.

Promises are meant to be broken, I’m

losing faith in the purpose of time’s stream.

From Christmas mornings to our prime,

joy escapes our hands like moonbeams.

Every “I love you” a crime.

Our minds echoing with sorrowful screams.

Poetic Form #43: Roundelay 

A roundelay is a lyric poem that uses a refrain. This form is a version of a 
John Dryden roundelay found in Lewis Turco's The New Book of Forms. 

Here are the rhymes and refrains:

Line 1: a

Line 2: b

Line 3: A1

Line 4: B1

Line 5: A2

Line 6: B2

Line 7: A1

Line 8: B1

Line 9: A3

Line 10: B3

Line 11: A2

Line 12: B2

Line 13: A3

Line 14: B3

Line 15: A4

Line 16: B4

Line 17: A2

Line 18: B2

Line 19: A4

Line 20: B4

Line 21: a

Line 22: b

Line 23: A2

Line 24: B2

Poetic Form 20: Prose

Bring me down

6:24 p.m. June 24, 2020

I’m driving on interstate 80, headed to a Henderson to pick up my son. We are down 
to one car after he hit a deer a week ago.

I’m counting memories like the mile markers on the shoulder, when the song “Landslide” 
(Smashing Pumpkins’ version) comes on the radio. And I am panicking to keep the tears 
at bay, but when the chorus starts, “Well, I've been afraid of changing / 'Cause I've built 
my life around you...” I feel all the yesterdays run down my cheek. Inside I am standing
there, arms filled with snap shots of zoo trips, basketball tournaments, visits to a dinosaur 
museum now closed. I can’t hold them all. They fall from my hands, fluttering like dead 
leaves in an autumn storm. I scramble to catch them. Left arm hugging memories tight, 
while my right sweeps through the air grasping at the moment my wife and I had a flat 
tire early in the morning. My heart heaves, more moments shift in my arms, then ambushes
me. The photos of my life cascade in front of me. Joy and frustration. Happiness and 
exhaustion. Victory and sorrow. All swirl in a colorful avalanche that buries my soul. I almost 
pull over in fear of being blinded by the rumble of living. 

“Well, the landslide will bring you down / Oh, the landslide will bring it down”

6:27 p.m. June 24, 2020

I’m driving on interstate 80...

Poetic Form #20: Prose

A prose poem is written as prose, without traditional line breaks. The poem still makes use of 

poetic devices such as repetition, rhyme, metaphor, and other literary elements.

Poetic Form 3: Skeltonic Verse

To the Young Voices

Set the mic a blaze

with words that wave

and crash against 

the shores of pretense

Nothing more or less

than a voice intense

with the rhythm of pain

mixed with a story main

that calls for a tomorrow

filled with love instead of sorrow

Walk tall, we will follow

Words have power

to raise towers

that allow everyone a view

of a world we strive to

Where friendship is me and you

not dictated by unwritten rule

So set that pen to paper

Build a skyscraper

Truth won’t wait until later

We need your talent on stage

and street, love too can rage

Poetic Form #3: Skeltonic Verse

This form is named after the English poet, John Skelton (c. 1463 - 21 June 1529). The rules are simple. Lines are short with a couple of stresses. The rhymes are irregular. Alliteration and parallelism are used often in this form.