Some
May think
I forgot,
Or I don’t care.
But some would be wrong.
Now
Posting
Time once more
I learn “Publish”
Was a thing not pressed
Things
Were lost
In haste, but
A day enjoyed
Is never a waste
National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 18
Using GirlGriot’s Arun form once more, I explain what happens when things get a busy for the Raivenne and a minor detail, like pressing Publish on yesterday’s post doesn’t happen. I did not notice it did not go through until I came to post today. Oops!
Being that it’s National Poetry Month / National Poetry Writing Month it makes sense that today in 2011 I posted “Why?” a brutal little ditty I wrote.
Why did he have to raise his hand?
His mind just must have upped and gone
I’m not the type he could command
Forget about put his hands on!
Forgot who he was married to?
Why did he have to raise his hand?
It was a stupid thing to do,
Picked the wrong girl to make a stand
And had the nerve to say demand!
To me! A cleaver yielding cook!
Why did he have to raise his hand?
For just one swipe was all it took
For there it was, hand on the floor
And finally, he understands
The only thing you knock are doors
Why did he have to raise his hand?
National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 16 shows what happens when things cascade in the form of a Quatern.
The Quatern is a French form. It consists of four stanzas of four lines, or sixteen total lines. The Quatern is a syllabic form, meaning that there are a required number of syllables per line. In this case, there are eight (8) syllables per line (or tetrameter, to those who want to get all technical), but it does NOT have to be iambic!!
The other trait of the Quatern is that there is a repeating refrain, similar to a kyrielle. In this case, the refrain is repeated one line lower in the poem in each stanza until in the fourth stanza it’s the fourth line, like below…
Line 1 (refrain)
Line 2
Line 3
Line 4
Line 5
Line 1 again (Line 6)
Line 7
Line 8
Line 9
Line 10
Line 1 again (Line 11)
Line 12
Line 13
Line 14
Line 15
Line 1 again (Line 16)
I did not know that time could be heartless
In its impatient flight… how sad it is
I never knew the worth of you until
You slipped away one day on quiet winds
Myrna / “On Quiet Winds”
How quickly love can fill an empty space
Your presence oh so loud within my heart
If I became unglued, your love the paste
We’d have forever, if time played its part
Even with life’s curved balls that we would face
I worried not in those times of harshness
As moth to light you’ve always come to me
And for you here I’ve been and thus would be
In trust I closed my eyes to the starkness
I did not know that time could be heartless
We who are young think not of life’s avail
That Clotho’s thread will never come to end
Treating life as an ever crawling snail
The next adventure’s just around the bend
Day, week, month, year, how quickly it can sail
We don’t hurry, ignorant in our bliss
Thinking “I’m running as fast as I can”
But Father Time will merely shrug and scan
The sands that flow in that great glass of his
In its impatient flight… how sad it is
The only one of them that truly knew
Lachesis crossed two most unlikely strings
And begged unto us love, so deep and true
Despite our worst, to steer us clear of things
That did drive many who we’ve known in two
And love we did have, love beyond our fill
You did not believe in blessings and such
Not channeled by remote, I guessed as much
I knew we were blessed, but even still
I never knew the worth of you until
I felt that first graze of empty down deep
My face became a moon to absent suns
At brink of the final task left to keep
And knowing the effects once she is done
I think even Atropos dared to weep
Equal to lives saintly or ones that sinned
She cannot cater to the whom or what
Within her hands the strings of life are cut
Now silence reigns in my heart where you dinned
You slipped away one day on quiet winds
National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 15
A return to one of my favorites the Glosa (classic).
Who am I to be? I deign not to ask
A decision not mine to make alone
An ovarian joins to complete that task
I lay dormant in a state of my own
Not yet of flesh, sinew or even bone
I’m half the potential that’s yet to be
For now frozen in anonymity
National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 13 brings hope of life in a Rime Royal
The Rime Royal or Rhyme Royal stanza consists of seven lines, usually in iambic pentameter. The rhyme scheme is ABABBCC.
This is something I need to address
To find the words to make it clear
I want…a way out…of loneliness
Surrounded in the city’s excess
I’m screaming but no one seems to hear
This is something I need to address
My soul, before, I’ve tried to undress
For a solace that does not appear
I want…a way out…of loneliness
And further on me it seems to press
Try as I my might to find a way clear
This is something I need to address
And so, I’ve come here to confess
That death is the only cure I fear
I want…a way out…of loneliness
I long to be free of this distress
Get back to the things I held dear
This is something I need to address
I want…a way out…of loneliness
National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 12
Another Villanelle
I heard the line on loneliness in a video yesterday and Muse flew with it.
I’m not questioning Mother Nature deciding
That the zipper of my favorite jeans parting
Is the result to my refusal of publicly farting
Father Time’s clock’s jingling, its hand landing
On where my body temp starts its constant revising
Between suddenly dropping and suddenly rising
Miss Clairol’s been looking more and more inviting
‘Cause not a word you say will be convincing
When the grays come in packs, I’ll be rinsing
Elastic is my friend while I’m weighting
And I carry a fan or a cloth for wiping
I’m content for now to cease my griping
I’m in no way catering to the act of aging
I’m simply deciding that the act of coping
Is more preferable than the act of moping
National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 9
I’m taking a trip down the lighter side of life even as I acknowledge that my trip is more like a prat fall – enjoy!
And today’s poetic form I tackle a Tritina
The tritina is a reduced version of the sestina written in iambic pentameter, which uses 3 repeated end-words (i.e. the final word of each line is repeated as the final word of each line in subsequent stanzas, just in a different order) and 3 three-line stanzas with a concluding one-line coda that must contain all three repeated words in order of their original appearance. The pattern/order of the repeated end-words is:
a
b
c
c
a
b
b
c
a
a–b–c
Sympathy
accord, rapport
caring, recognizing, supporting
compassion, benevolence, singlemindedness, distant
ignoring, unseeing, uncaring
insensitive, blind
Apathy
dVerse Poets Pub — Poetics | Flipping Meanings
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.
Walking the vineyard
Early that morning
Wine fermented air
In the day dawning
A table waited
Laden with mounds
Of the deepest
Sweet rounds
There sparkled a diamond
Brighter than the dew
“My love,” you knelt smiling,
“I’ve a grape to pick with you.”
dVerse Poets Pub : Quadrille # 125 – In Praise of the Grape
Tonight at dVerse bar Linda serves us some wine to prompt our taste buds to verse the quadrille.
A Quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words, not including the title. It must include the prompt word wine. Muse was in a silly mood.
National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 5
We rise now in this fateful hour
Once in thorns, now is nimbus crowned
For He is risen, the blood has power
Knelt in prayers and tears dour
Those of us who are still earthbound
We rise now in this fateful hour
Some stare in awe, others cower
None can deny, the sight astounds
For He is risen, the blood has power
From our knees we grow and flower
New grains to sprout up from the ground
We rise now in this fateful hour
On this third day to now shower
A faith anew with life is found
For He is risen, the blood has power
We cling to the Almighty bower
Spread The Word with joyous sound
We rise now in this fateful hour
For He is risen, the blood has power
National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 4
And today Easter Sunday I offer a Lenten poem in the form of a Villanelle.
The Villanelle is a poetic form composed of nineteen lines. These are arranged as five tercets (three-line stanzas) followed by a quatrain (four-line stanza).
There is no established meter to the villanelle – modern villanelles tend to pentameter, while early villanelles used trimeter or tetrameter.
The most striking thing about a villanelle is that it has two refrains (“A1” and “A2”) and two repeating rhymes (“a” and “b”). The first and third line of the opening tercet are repeated alternately as the refrains, until the last stanza, which includes both refrains.
With this, the pattern of the villanelle can be illustrated as as
A1bA2
abA1
abA2
abA1
abA2
abA1A2
where “a” and “b” are the two rhymes, and the upper case letters (“A1” and “A2”) indicate the refrains.
All that I need is time To smooth these nipped edges How much more can I take I’m living a nightmare While standing here awake All that I need is time To help me muddle through These dreams of yesterday Like popsicles in sun They come then melt away All that I need is time You're still very much here Not like I have much choice Each breeze ignites your touch As the wind holds your voice All that I need is time Just take it day by day Small comforts slowly grow Nothing lasts forever This urgent pain will go
National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 3
And today’s poetic form is a Monchielle
The Monchielle is a poem that consists of four five-line stanzas where the first line repeats in
each verse. Each line within the stanzas consist of six syllables, and lines three and five rhyme.
The rhyme pattern is Abcdc Aefgf Ahiji Aklml.
Raivenne-lations 