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Another Challenge

How about terza rima? I like this form. It’s fun to write, and you can have as many stanzas as you choose.

The form is three-line stanzas, the first of which is with the rhyme scheme aba. Then the second stanza uses the “b” rhyme as its first and third end rhyme. So the entire rhyming scheme would look like this:

aba
bcb
cdc
ded
efe
fgf…etc. for as many stanzas as you choose. Here is an example (this one has just three stanzas):

TV brought news of shootings once again.
Chicago, Littleton, and Sandy Hook
show violence visited by weaponed men.

Our Congressmen refuse to take a look
at serious issues, and to boldly stand
against what our strong Gabby Giffords took

in Tucson. Little children need a hand
to keep them safe. Who’ll step up, lead the charge?
Please, no more people with their heads in sand.

************************************************

Sorry to be political, but it’s what occurred to me. I hope this gives you the idea of terza rima, and that you’ll submit, submit, submit.

There’s another example on my blog, Brainstorms: How Epilepsy and Writing Connect at maggiemendus.wordpress.com, if you should want to take a look. Its title is Age Twelve, and it has six stanzas.


1 Comment

Villanelle

Thank you, howanxious, for the inspiration for writing a villanelle. The villanelle is a form I like very much so would like to offer this one.

A perfect rhythm fits the villanelle,
originality of word and rhyme,
each thought as lovely as an ocean shell.

A word fits in a fence, but not a cell,
its pendulum a-swinging, keeping time
so perfect. Rhythm fits the villanelle,

repeating lines a new surprise as well.
Commence the poem, clarify, then climb
through thoughts as lovely as an ocean shell.

The French gave us this gift, a carousel
of rounding phrases pungent as a lime,
the perfect rhythm of the villanelle.

Its form reminds me of a ringing bell,
and it accompanies my sleep, a chime
through hours and dreams as lovely as a shell.

A villanelle is where I want to dwell.
I number it as first in line, as prime
in perfect rhythm. Yes, the villanelle
gifts us with thoughts as lovely as a shell.


2 Comments

The floor hasn’t been cleaned…

Here are some alterations in the previous poem in the poetic form- The Bop, that I did write. Many of the lines are the same- there are only a few changes which show a new story, which is different from the earlier one.

The floor hasn’t been cleaned since a while

The floor hasn’t been cleaned

since a while, one can see

the specks of dirt, the fallen

spider webs here and there spread

like the dried flowers of love

on an old withered tomb.

The faded love does leave a stain.

A foul smell is also coming up

from something on the floor

may be that thing has died

now decaying on this floor

which hasn’t been cleaned since a while

and don’t oversee the broken shards of

glass and the dark red stain

which has by now left its permanent mark.

The faded love does leave a stain.

The sick lady of the house rose

from her bed finally and saw

the floor which hasn’t been

cleaned since a while, and aims

at cleaning it up in a while but

ends up lying back on her tomb within a while.


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Poetic form- The Bop

The Bop is a poetic form that was developed by poet Afaa Michael Weaver.

Here are the basic rules:

  • 3 stanzas
  • Each stanza is followed by a refrain
  • First stanza is 6 lines long and presents a problem
  • Second stanza is 8 lines long and explores or expands the problem
  • Third stanza is 6 lines long and either presents a solution or documents the failed attempt to resolve the problem

Here is what I wrote-

One must do one’s chore on time

The floor hasn’t been cleaned

since a while, one can see

the specks of dirt, the fallen

spider webs here and there spread

like the dried flowers

on the old worn tomb.

One must do one’s chore on time.

A foul smell is also coming up

from somewhere on this floor

may be some rodent has died

left to be decayed on this floor

which hasn’t been cleaned since a while

and don’t forget the dark red stain

of the wine that spilled over here

but hasn’t been cleaned, even by this time.

One must do one’s chore on time.

The sick lady of the house rose

from her bed finally and saw

the floor which hasn’t been cleaned

since a while, and aims at

cleaning it up in a while but

ends up sleeping after puking some bile.

One must do one’s chore on time.

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