Ingrid tends the bar at dVerse Poets and challenges us to write a poem in the voice of a fictional character. It can be any character. One can introduce the character in one’s own voice, but the main body of the poem must be in the voice of the character. It can be a dramatic monologue, or create a spirit voice through whom the poem speaks. The challenge is to experiment with fictional storytelling in the poem.
I’ve gone all medieval king returning home at the end of a battle.
Standing there by the old fence She sure is a pretty sight He forgot just how her eyes do shine Under the bright sun light He ain’t seen her in over month Truth be told not since that night And he knows the call bringing him here Can’t be for something right
She tells him the baby is yours And he knows she ain’t lying Inside her a life slowly grows But inside him he’s slowly dying Being a dad at seventeen Wasn’t part of his plan A baby makes him a father But it don’t make him a man
She leans against the old fence Not enjoying the cooling breeze The silence between them is deafening It’s not meant for times like these She remembers how he held her close that night How he made her weak in the knees Not this distance she feels now standing next to him Like she’s got some kind of disease
She tells him the baby is yours And he knows she ain’t lying She should be happy about this life that grows But she’s on the verge of crying Being a mom at sixteen Wasn’t part of her plan A baby makes her a mother But it don’t make her a woman
He’s thinking how two together Can sometimes add another one She’s thinking she can’t raise herself Let alone a daughter or a son Both want to stand their own ground Both of them want to run And neither wants to dare to think What the other thinks should be done
If he offers his hand would she be his wife And somehow together maybe make a life Or let it be something that they just let go The distant dreams only the two of them will know She tells him the baby is yours And he knows she ain’t lying No matter what they decide Its knot that’s never untying
Having a child in their teens Wasn’t part of their plan A baby makes them parents But she’s a long way from a woman, And he’s a long way from a man
Tonight at dVerse Merrill asks us to build a bridge of sorts with the Puente form or to write a poem about bridges.
In a Puente (Spanish for bridge), the first and third stanzas must have the same number of lines, but there is no set number of lines, as long as the two stanzas match. They can be rhymed or unrhymed. The bridge line is one single line connecting the first and third stanzas. The last line of the first stanza and the bridge line are a couplet, and the bridge line and the first line of the third stanza are a couplet. The bridge line then often connects stanzas written from different points of view or about different ideas. It sounds more complicated than it is, but it really is not. Two stanzas with a middle line that connects them.
I bridge rhyming Puente of a woman celebrating the birth of her newborn with a vampire longing for the dawn.
She greets me with each new dawn Much like my doorbell loud to sing We pick a cardinal point to walk See the morn – for noon will bring reminders that in this masked new world the year passes in its usual swing I sit until dusk – no points met For a silenced doorbell cannot ring
“The lingering clouds, rolling, rolling, And the settled rain, dripping, dripping, In the Eight Directions—the same dusk. The level lands—one great river. Wine I have, wine I have: Idly I drink at the eastern window. Longingly—I think of my friends, But neither boat nor carriage comes.“
Tonight, at dVerse Poets Laura tends bar and reminds us that today, April 20th, is UN Chinese Language Day. Thus, we are challenged to re-interpret an original Chinese (translated) poem in our own style and try not to use too much of the original poem’s wording. I chose “Flood” by Tao Chien, whose ending lines of longing for friends brought to mind those missing friends and family lost this past year due to the pandemic.
In addition, I chose to re-interpret the poem in the Chinese LUSHI style:
eight lines long of couplets – The first couplet should set-up the poem; the middle two couplets develop the theme, the final couple is conclusion
each line must have the same number of words, either 5,6, or 7.
It was not a thing planned bring forth a child Then raise to adult
Our young lives No longer ours Alone anymore To live or to squander
We know Being parents Is not easy and While sometimes a bother You’ll always be our Joy
Tonight at dVerse Whimsygizmo, with an assist at the from Sanaa, asks us to Come “bother” up a poem in the form of a Quadrille, a poem of precisely 44 words, not including the title, and including some form of the word BOTHER.
Tonight at dVerse Lisa challenges us to play ‘The Opposite Game’ and Flip the Meanings of poems.
I chose to create a poem using the Diamante form which goes as follows:
Line 1: Noun or subject Line 2: Two Adjectives describing the first noun/subject Line 3: Three -ing words describing the first noun/subject Line 4: Four words: two about the first noun/subject, two about the antonym/synonym Line 5: Three -ing words about the antonym/synonym Line 6: Two adjectives describing the antonym/synonym Line 7: Antonym/synonym for the subject
As its name suggests, a Diamante forms a diamond shape when done.
You call me to lie in the fragrance * Of the scent of those who only care To lay odious privilege in the ways That their pale puffs of new smoke Ignore the long burning dark fumes Of those who barely dreamed to dare The dreams never given a chance
To lay odious claim in the ways The scent of those who care For traditions of their halcyon centuries When their words were held as the only Voices that ever had the means to say What was yours to keep, not ours to share
That their pale puffs of new smoke Ignore the long burning dark fumes Of the peaceful conflagrations of the tired Who’ve long held the raisining to explode** Against those that desire their sweet past resumes In a future in whose vile stench we’re again choked
For those who barely dreamed to dare The dreams never given a chance For we citizens who like you, are born here or immigrated Still find ourselves the ones on the side alienated Don’t be surprised upon return to where you’ve called me to lie Quietly with nose wrinkled and looks askance That I’m brave enough to be, to see, to rise from there ***
* Line was inspired from the last line of Season of Lilac by D. Margoshes ** Line inspired by the poem, Harlem by Langston Hughes *** Line inspired by the last line of The Hill We Climb by Amanda Gorman
Tonight at dVerse Laura Bloomsbury wants us Beginning at the End. We are offered several ending lines from select poems to be our muse for a new work of our own. We are asked to preferably not use the offered lines verbatim as the title or within the writing itself but either cite the reference at the end or place the quote as distinct Epigraph at the top. Naturally, Muse goes a little above and beyond and reference three poems.
Tonight at dVerse Merrill has the feel of autumn and wants to be blankest in a quadrille, a poem of 44 words, excluding the title. It can be in any form, rhymed or unrhymed, metered, or unmetered and must include some form of the prompt word – blanket.