The poems I write are usually short and require endless tinkering.
They’re never as good as I want them to be but I let them simmer, then share the “soiled workings of my untidy mind” with my writing group to find out what works…and what doesn’t. They never laugh at me. They laugh near me. 🙂
We’re all in awe of Ronnie’s sestina and right-thinkingly daunted by its complex form, meter and rhyme. A poetic marathon. (BTW, there’s even a double sestina, as if the form weren’t devilish enough. Twelve stanzas with a six-line envoi.)
Well, I discovered that the sestina has a little sister ~ the tritina. I’m thinking it’s like a half-marathon, Oprah-length, within my reach.
Here are rules ~
No meter. No rhyme. Three repeated words.
The form ~ ten lines grouped into three tercets and one conclusive line.
Choose three end words ( A, B, C) and write the tercets in this pattern:
The last line contains all three words, bringing you back to ABC. Sounds easy, huh?
I’m like a wind-up doll who’s activated by a linguistic gimmick. The rest of the group, not so much. They kindly humor me. And are not easily conned into doing what I say.
Fueled as I am by a steady diet of words in life,
I esteem a crusty baguette to eat
and a good bottle of Bordeaux. Well!
I do my best at the table, and on the page, to behave well
but I like things that leave crumbs across my life,
romp across white linen, strut their stuff as I eat.
I always feel contentedly spry, wry and free after I eat
Or write, so whether I hold a pen or a fork, it ends well.
I’m seduced by a good bottle, a good meal, the good words of life.
Life is too short not to eat well.
This is your chance to be in the play, to create something that maybe only you want to see (I know that we’d love to see it here). Don’t over-think it. It’s just a poem, after all.
I promise it will do something for you. I just don’t know exactly what.
SO….What will your verse be?