A ketek is a 5-line palindrome-like poem where each word is repeated, allowing for some grammatic changes. It is original to the fantasy world of the Stormlight Archive, and these keteks each describe a character in that series. I have previously posted a posted a reverso about a different Stormlight character.
Szeth
Unheard screams
own my life,
still Truthless,
still alive,
my own screams unheard.
Shallan
Lies held close
dangerously hide
self from self,
hiding dangerous
closely held lies.
Kaladin I
Protected, trained to heal;
betrayed and wronged, overcome.
Choosing honor, by honor chosen,
overcoming wrongs and betrayal
healing to train, protect.
Kaladin II
Failing again, never protecting,
Oaths betrayed.
Renew honor,
renewing betrayed oaths,
protecting, never again failing
Taravangian
Brilliance without compassion
required this action today
for salvation, yet salvation
for today's action, this requires
compassion without brilliance.
Showing posts with label Other Forms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Other Forms. Show all posts
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Friday, February 1, 2013
Luncheon Cinquain
Taste it:
soft brown heaven,
soothing cream of softness
a full jar of peanut butter
for me
soft brown heaven,
soothing cream of softness
a full jar of peanut butter
for me
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Decay
You can see it in the rusting of the trees,
in the ever-slower shuffling of the streams.
You can feel it in the way we stay abed,
wrapped against the early morning cold.
You can hear it in the forest's creaking limbs
and ever-trembling, sighing, palsied leaves.
The world is getting old.
We fight it off with pungent scents,
with cinnamon and nutmeg and pine,
but autumn rain puddles into wet mildew.
We ignore it with talk of spring, pretending
that our memories of summer are unfaded.
We push it back with rich tastes,
with sharp cranberries and crisp apples,
but we cannot stop it, this falling apart,
this final heavy turning of the year.
The world is getting old.
Do not hide from her, here, inside.
Please do not let her age alone.
Let us walk long, walk slow,
talk soft, and thank her for her time.
We will show her young hope
and younger life, and smile together.
The world is getting old.
Note: This is a poetic form called the bop. I discovered it with this example bop by Robert Brewer. It's excellent, and I suggest you take a look!
A bop involves 3 stanzas of 6-8-6 lines and a 1-line refrain. Meter and rhyme scheme are up to you.
in the ever-slower shuffling of the streams.
You can feel it in the way we stay abed,
wrapped against the early morning cold.
You can hear it in the forest's creaking limbs
and ever-trembling, sighing, palsied leaves.
The world is getting old.
We fight it off with pungent scents,
with cinnamon and nutmeg and pine,
but autumn rain puddles into wet mildew.
We ignore it with talk of spring, pretending
that our memories of summer are unfaded.
We push it back with rich tastes,
with sharp cranberries and crisp apples,
but we cannot stop it, this falling apart,
this final heavy turning of the year.
The world is getting old.
Do not hide from her, here, inside.
Please do not let her age alone.
Let us walk long, walk slow,
talk soft, and thank her for her time.
We will show her young hope
and younger life, and smile together.
The world is getting old.
Note: This is a poetic form called the bop. I discovered it with this example bop by Robert Brewer. It's excellent, and I suggest you take a look!
A bop involves 3 stanzas of 6-8-6 lines and a 1-line refrain. Meter and rhyme scheme are up to you.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Streetsign Shadorma
Highway signs:
"Fast break for breakfast-
think QuikTrip"
"Grab & Go!"
"First moves us forward, faster"
"Xpress park and ride"
No stop lights,
hardly pausing for
"Jiffy Lube"
"RaceTrac Gas"
"Minimum Speed 45"
No one can slow down.
"Fast break for breakfast-
think QuikTrip"
"Grab & Go!"
"First moves us forward, faster"
"Xpress park and ride"
No stop lights,
hardly pausing for
"Jiffy Lube"
"RaceTrac Gas"
"Minimum Speed 45"
No one can slow down.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Songbird Shadorma (National Poetry Month: Day 26)
breathing blue,
lungs bursting with sky
and new dawn,
brown thrush sings--
so thirsty for the morning
he might drink it all.
~~~
The shadorma is a six-lined poems with the syllable counts of 3/5/3/3/7/5. Do you want to read more shadorma? My favorites from that page are The Peculiar Mosquito by K. Thomas Slesarik and Shadorma by Heidi Mordhorst. When you're done reading, go ahead and explore the rest of the site. It is an excellent poetry blog called The Miss Rumphius Effect.
lungs bursting with sky
and new dawn,
brown thrush sings--
so thirsty for the morning
he might drink it all.
~~~
The shadorma is a six-lined poems with the syllable counts of 3/5/3/3/7/5. Do you want to read more shadorma? My favorites from that page are The Peculiar Mosquito by K. Thomas Slesarik and Shadorma by Heidi Mordhorst. When you're done reading, go ahead and explore the rest of the site. It is an excellent poetry blog called The Miss Rumphius Effect.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Dalinar (National Poetry Month: Day 13)
He is weak,
a man who thinks
the world relies on him.
To be saved
he obeys
these words and teachings,
following
a forgotten king.
This man may become
our only hope, though
it is
so difficult to see.
Remember this truth:
Strength before weakness!
Remember this truth,
so difficult to see.
It is
our only hope (though
this man may become
a forgotten king)--
following
these words and teachings
he obeys.
To be saved,
the world relies on him:
a man who thinks
he is weak.
~~~
This poetic form, an adaptation of the reverso, is particularly appropriate for its topic. The poem is a reference to Dalinar, a character from Brandon Sanderson's The Way of Kings. Dalinar lives in a world where palindromic repetitions are a fundamentally valued aesthetic.
For true reverso (in which the two halves are separate poems rather than concatenated as I've done here), read Mirror Mirror by Marilyn Singer, or check out this site.
The reverso is distinct from the palindrome poem, in which the words, not the lines, read the same in reverse. Some examples of palindrome poetry can be seen here or here.
a man who thinks
the world relies on him.
To be saved
he obeys
these words and teachings,
following
a forgotten king.
This man may become
our only hope, though
it is
so difficult to see.
Remember this truth:
Strength before weakness!
Remember this truth,
so difficult to see.
It is
our only hope (though
this man may become
a forgotten king)--
following
these words and teachings
he obeys.
To be saved,
the world relies on him:
a man who thinks
he is weak.
~~~
This poetic form, an adaptation of the reverso, is particularly appropriate for its topic. The poem is a reference to Dalinar, a character from Brandon Sanderson's The Way of Kings. Dalinar lives in a world where palindromic repetitions are a fundamentally valued aesthetic.
For true reverso (in which the two halves are separate poems rather than concatenated as I've done here), read Mirror Mirror by Marilyn Singer, or check out this site.
The reverso is distinct from the palindrome poem, in which the words, not the lines, read the same in reverse. Some examples of palindrome poetry can be seen here or here.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Okra (National Poetry Month: Day 12)
Okra:
Green and gummy.
Not much flavor either.
Fried? Stir-fried? Curried? Succotashed?
I'll pass.
Green and gummy.
Not much flavor either.
Fried? Stir-fried? Curried? Succotashed?
I'll pass.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Harmony (National Poetry Month: Day 11)
The stars are shining brightly in the sky,
still winking at each other in the night.
As comfortable hours drift slowly by
they reach through darkness, inner fire alight.
Still winking at each other in the night
two lovers sit outside beneath the trees.
They reach through darkness, inner fire alight;
they smile and listen to each other breathe.
Two lovers sit outside beneath the trees.
As dawn seeps slow before the coming sun
they smile and listen to each other breathe
soft words of hope and joy and day begun.
As dawn seeps slow before the coming sun
new warmth awakens. Voice and light within
soft words of hope and joy and day begun
fill up the sky and echo on the wind.
New warmth awakens voice and light within
dark thunderheads that gather tight in crowds,
fill up the sky and echo on the wind.
The sun grows dim and hides within the clouds.
Dark thunderheads that gather tight in crowds
Shout thunder and glare lightning carelessly.
The sun grows dim and hides. Within the clouds
a mist of tears grows heavy but unseen.
Shout thunder and glare lightning! Carelessly
the light of sun and stars is lost and still
a mist of tears grows heavy. But, unseen
before, rain falls and all is cold and chill.
The light of sun and stars is lost. And still,
an inner fire remains by which to see:
before rain falls and all is cold and chill,
there is yet time to make apology.
An inner fire remains by which to see
there's hope in tear-washed eyes longing for growth.
There is yet time to make apology;
there's time to clear the clouds around them both.
So hand in hand they talk and smile because
the stars are shining brightly in the sky.
They laugh at silly things each says or does
as comfortable hours drift slowly by.
~~~
This is a poetic form called the pantoum. I've encountered them before, but this is my first attempt at writing one myself. (A pantoum does not have to follow a rhyme scheme, even though I chose to here. It would have been easier to write without that added restriction.)
still winking at each other in the night.
As comfortable hours drift slowly by
they reach through darkness, inner fire alight.
Still winking at each other in the night
two lovers sit outside beneath the trees.
They reach through darkness, inner fire alight;
they smile and listen to each other breathe.
Two lovers sit outside beneath the trees.
As dawn seeps slow before the coming sun
they smile and listen to each other breathe
soft words of hope and joy and day begun.
As dawn seeps slow before the coming sun
new warmth awakens. Voice and light within
soft words of hope and joy and day begun
fill up the sky and echo on the wind.
New warmth awakens voice and light within
dark thunderheads that gather tight in crowds,
fill up the sky and echo on the wind.
The sun grows dim and hides within the clouds.
Dark thunderheads that gather tight in crowds
Shout thunder and glare lightning carelessly.
The sun grows dim and hides. Within the clouds
a mist of tears grows heavy but unseen.
Shout thunder and glare lightning! Carelessly
the light of sun and stars is lost and still
a mist of tears grows heavy. But, unseen
before, rain falls and all is cold and chill.
The light of sun and stars is lost. And still,
an inner fire remains by which to see:
before rain falls and all is cold and chill,
there is yet time to make apology.
An inner fire remains by which to see
there's hope in tear-washed eyes longing for growth.
There is yet time to make apology;
there's time to clear the clouds around them both.
There's hope in tear-washed eyes longing for growth,
so hand in hand they talk and smile because
there's time to clear the clouds around them both.
They laugh at silly things each says or does.So hand in hand they talk and smile because
the stars are shining brightly in the sky.
They laugh at silly things each says or does
as comfortable hours drift slowly by.
~~~
This is a poetic form called the pantoum. I've encountered them before, but this is my first attempt at writing one myself. (A pantoum does not have to follow a rhyme scheme, even though I chose to here. It would have been easier to write without that added restriction.)
Thursday, April 7, 2011
April Evening (National Poetry Month: Day 7)
Windows
open, screenless,
let in on warm night air
the ceaseless sound of cicadas
singing
~~~
~~~
This form of poetry, the cinquain, was developed by Adelaide Crapsey in the early 1900s. Cinquain.org has a collection of her poems, and links to more by her and other poets. My favorites on that page are November Night and Amaze.
Friday, April 1, 2011
April Poems (National Poetry Month: Day 1)
Roses are red,
Violets are blue
April Fool's poems
Don't have to rhyme.
ha-ha
~~~
The first day of April each year
is a time that all pranksters should fear.
Their jokes, since expected,
are quickly detected,
and the struggle for laughs is severe.
~~~
I discovered that Serena of SavvyVerseAndWit.com is hosting a blog tour for National Poetry Month this year. In addition to blogs participating in #poemaday, the tour will include reviews of poets and poetry collections. She also keeps a "MrLinky" url collection for sites participating in the tour. I encourage you to explore some of the creative space out there.
Violets are blue
April Fool's poems
Don't have to rhyme.
ha-ha
~~~
The first day of April each year
is a time that all pranksters should fear.
Their jokes, since expected,
are quickly detected,
and the struggle for laughs is severe.
~~~
I discovered that Serena of SavvyVerseAndWit.com is hosting a blog tour for National Poetry Month this year. In addition to blogs participating in #poemaday, the tour will include reviews of poets and poetry collections. She also keeps a "MrLinky" url collection for sites participating in the tour. I encourage you to explore some of the creative space out there.
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