Poetic Form 99: Madrigal

 What Love Means

When they see us they will know what love means.

Hand in hand in step with the fading light,

I understand why birds are called to flight.

I wake early to see the morning glean

on skin, promises mixing with sunlight.

When they see us they will know what love means.

Hand in hand in step with the fading light.

I admit to getting lost in-between

seductive kisses and your smile bright.

My heart soars with the doves in clouds of white.

When they see us they will know what love means.

Hand in hand in step with the fading light,

I understand why birds are called to flight.

Poetic Form #99: Madrigal

The madrigal is an Italian form. There are two main types, the Italian and English.

I will focus on the English. The English form was developed by Geoffrey Chaucer. 

It is written in iambic pentameter, with three stanzas: a tercet, quatrain, and sestet. 

All three of the lines in the opening tercet are refrains.

The form follows this rhyme pattern:

Line 1: A

Line 2: B1

Line 3: B2

Line 4: a

Line 5: b

Line 6: A

Line 7: B1

Line 8: a

Line 9: b

Line 10: b

Line 11: A

Line 12: B1

Line 13: B2

Poetic Form 75: Roundabout

 Still in Love

In the soft light she moved, beauty.

I fell fast to the ground,

losing my heart.

Her kiss a dart.

I fell fast to the ground

making my tongue confound.

She laughs, whispers abstract

words on starlight;

words that delight.

She laughs, whispers abstract

ideas that color the track

of scars unseen. A rite

left with cruelty.

An old movie

of scars unseen, a rite.

She lifts me to the starry night.

Hands soft, full lips ruby.

Arms closed around

beauty profound.

Hands soft, full lips ruby.

Poetic Form #75: Roundabout

The Roundabout form was created by Sara Diane Doyle. The form 

is a four stanza poem. Each stanza consists of 5 lines. The poem 

is written in iambic and the lines have 4 feet, 3 feet, 2 feet, 2 feet 

and 3 feet respectively. The second line of each stanza is the last line 

of that stanza. The rhyme scheme looks like this:

aBccB

bCddC

cDaaD

dAbbA

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 8: Limerick

There once was a middle aged dad 

Who told jokes that were so bad 

His children only moaned

His wife’s eyes like stone

But without his humor their life was sad

Poetic Form #8: Limerick

A limerick has a AABBA rhyme scheme. The syllable count guidelines are 8-10 for 
the A lines and 6 for the B lines. Original limericks repeated the first line as the last line.

Poetry Challenge Day 18: Message

*Decided to step out of the box on this one and write a horror / suspense like poem... 
in the sense of a poem like "My Last Duchess" by Robert Browning. 
Each line is nine syllables.

Miss You

Thirteen days, six hours and five minutes

since she was taken from his strong arms.

Today was the second shower he had

taken in that time. The flowers on

the counter now turning black. Petals

wilted, aroma of the death they 

were meant to console. Pieces of the

cards he tore apart mixed with the mess.

Funny how nobody called anymore.

The bathroom filled with steam, the towel

wrapped around a waist she would place her

hands on when she would surprise hug him

in the kitchen as he washed dishes.

His heart felt empty, weak, as if it

no longer wanted to beat any

type of rhythm. He held onto the 

sink, head down. Tears filling the basin.

He looked up to see if the mirror was

clear of the steam. He felt his heart race

as the words “Miss you” appeared on the

glass. The rhythm in his chest almost

broke him. He placed his left hand, ring still

there, next to the two words. He felt her 

fingers enclose his. Nobody called.

Poetry Challenge Day 8: Future

 

April 7 Headlines

April 7, 1790, 

The Gazette of the United-States newspaper reported

    the scheme for the New York City Lottery

    tickets to be 40 cents

    top prize 3000

    16654 tickets would be blank

The funds would allow the city hall building to be expanded

    to accommodate congress

April 7, 1810

The Delaware Gazette newspaper reported

    the Melancholy accident of 

    Anthony M Murdy

    Who fell to his death while

        removing dirt from a clay bank

    He left a wife and several children

April 7, 1858

The Carroll Free Press newspaper reported

    That Mr. Geo. H Lamb was arrested

    for the murder of his second wife

    His first wife was reported missing three years earlier

    The police took him into custody

    In front of his third wife of eight days

April 7, 2020

Every newspaper’s headlines were filled with 

    coronavirus deaths from across the world

Choose any April 7 from the past

    And you will find stories

    recorded in history by the lives

    of the people who lived them

Stories of pain and loss

    of beginnings 

    of chance taking its turn with the plot line

    and every once in awhile

        a story of joy

I’ll bet my lottery ticket that if you could read the newspaper

    for any April 7 in the future

        You will read the same

I'll be the one

I’ll be the one you can dance with

    when the melody is the storm

I’ll be the one you can laugh with

    when the punchline is another hardship

I’ll be the one you can lock hands with

    when the distance is unspoken words

I’ll be the one you can walk with

    when the compass has lost true north

I’ll  be the one you can dream with

    when sand has filled the bottom of life

I’ll be the one who sings

I’ll be the one who dances

I’ll be the one who loves

    You

        when all the world has turned away

I’ll be the one

    that completes this two...

If I had the Words

If I had the words

    I would be able to tell you

    that the way you turn your head

        when you laugh

        is the definition of Joy

If I had the words

    I would be able to describe

    how the curve of your hip

        sharp against the night

        is the line of Desire

If I had the words

    I would be able to express

    how holding my hand

        to walk into a store

        is the moment of Love

If I had the words

    I would be able to write

    how your nicknames

        spoken by family

        is the song of Motherhood

If I was a better poet

    or skilled wordsmith

    or even half a Romeo

        I would have the words

        to move your spirit

But all I have are these words

I love you, always

It's Been a Long Winter

It’s been a long winter

  And another storm is raging outside

The power is out this Christmas morning

  No wrapping paper litters the floor this year

  No tree fills the window view

As a family we slept huddled together in the living room

To silence our hunger we eat Pop-Tarts and dry cereal

The drifts block the doors

Cell phones are on low battery mode

  But it doesn’t matter

  No service blinks at the top

I see the fear in my little ones’ eyes

My wife sends a question with a look,

 “What do we do?”

It’s been a long winter

  And another storm is raging outside

There are small flames in our neighbor's windows

The battery operated radio is just static

  Until we find a voice on an a.m. station

He tells us that this is the worst storm in years

  As if we didn’t know

I wonder if I have the Faith to wait it out

 Or should I grab a shovel and a scarf?

My wife produces a cassette tape

The joyful music feels like a scream in the grey sunshine

I see a small wisp as I breathe out

My oldest daughter has a book

Everyone has a blanket

Then our heads snap up in shock

  As a howl fills the space

There is a pack of wolves running between the houses

  Snipping at each other

  Sniffing the wind

  On sits atop the drift in front of our patio doors

I shrug in amazement toward my family

It’s been a long winter

It is Christmas morning

Another storm is raging outside

Instead of wrapping paper on the floor

We have wolves at the door