Monthly Archives: August 2014

Definition of a Hero

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It was a desert land so far away
From the green fields where he used to play
He could have made the choice to stay
No, he couldn’t – it wasn’t his way

A man of solid honor, it was his name

He walked away from a fortune that was his due
He walked away from all its fame too
He walked the colors of the red, white & blue
A cardinal became a ranger, through and through

He walked away from fortune and from fame

His actions spoke the volumes he never said
He gave a silent voice to the dead
The ones, not through their choice have bled
No other road he could have tread

It wasn’t a road many other could claim

He fought his battles without fear,
He had plans for his life in some other year
But he didn’t make back over here
And he wouldn’t want us shedding a tear

His straight and just way put others to shame

But tears we shed, for his death’s a crime
Tears for a solider brought down in his prime
A wife’s tears for their love’s lack of time
Tears form the heart of this rhyme

We shed these tears proudly without shame

A man of solid honor, Pat Tillman his name
He walked away from fortune and from fame
It wasn’t a road many other could claim
His straight and just way put others to shame

We shed these tears proudly without shame
The definition of a hero is no longer the same

Winter Is Soon

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In summer’s time I think of you
In summer’s time I think of you
I know your touch is soon to come
I know your touch is soon to come
I think summer’s come to know of you
Your touch in time is soon

Foreign and yet familiar, I feel the thoughts break in
Foreign and yet familiar, I feel the thoughts break in
Still I do not wish to give them form
Still I do not wish to give them form
And the familiar thoughts I feel break the wish
I, in foreign form, still do not give to them yet

Drifting, they skip and tumble my soul
Drifting, they skip and tumble my soul
A piercing fall of chills in the midst of Sol’s sultry hold
A piercing fall of chills in the midst of Sol’s sultry hold
Drifting of sultry Sol’s hold, they skip, tumble,
And chills a piercing fall in the midst of my soul

I do know I feel Sol’s familiar touch
Yet foreign thoughts come drifting
And break my wish to not think of you
They skip the fall time and give to them form
Still in the midst of summer’s sultry hold
A tumble of piercing chills is soon in my soul

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Because when it comes to forms I am a masochist and Brian over at dVerse finds one of the most convoluted ones out there for us to take a whack at.

Welcome to the Paradelle

Invented by Billy Collins as a parody to the strict structure of most form poetry, the paradelle is a 4-stanza poem, where each stanza consists of 6 lines.

For the first 3 stanzas, the 1st and 2nd lines should be the same; the 3rd and 4th lines should also be the same; and the 5th and 6th lines should be composed of all the words from the 1st and 3rd lines and only the words from the 1st and 3rd lines.

The final stanza should be composed of all the words in the 5th and 6th lines of the first three stanzas and only the words from the 5th and 6th lines of the first three stanzas.

Thanks Billy, and Brian, this was fun! <– SARCASM

dVerse ~ Poets Pub : MeetingTheBar ~ FormForAll: Paradelles (i have obviously lost my mind)