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Richie
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Re: Coupletameter
Reply #3 - Oct 31st, 2005 at 1:35pm
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excellent loved it very well conceived
richard
« Last Edit: Mar 30th, 2007 at 5:54pm by Just_Daniel »  
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Just_Daniel
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Slow down; things will
go faster. ~ djr

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Freedom Soon...
Reply #2 - May 6th, 2005 at 9:51am
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Excellent use of your own form... colliding, not deriding!  Grin

Here are some words yours incited in me, wrestling with other forces long at work inside:

Freedom Soon

buffoon
marooned
has liberty -
in bonds - he’s free
to roam within his norm
where he can play, in form

f-o-r-m-a-l-i-t-y  is now become
his very  F R E E -da- DUM -da- DOM
to dance about his space in steps he’s learned
and drink away the gloom with Schweppes; he’s turned
\imprisonment/ to  in - dependency,  in - verse,
reciprocating graciously to every curse . . .

cursorily no longer, he’ll respond in verse
to keep himself from demon thoughts . . .   preventing worse
encounters than before . . .   some bridges burned
to focus thoughts away from what he’s spurned;
new day will come . . .   release to roam,
to wander on white page, his home.

homespun is what he’ll be . . .
at rest on restless sea
now loosed to write
in free, incite
new moon
maroon

© MLee Dickens'son 06 May 2005
« Last Edit: May 8th, 2008 at 7:03pm by Just_Daniel »  
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Normpo
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Re: Coupletameter
Reply #1 - Apr 26th, 2005 at 9:40pm
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Daniel --- I love what you did with "my" form.... right down to the subject matter. My response follows --- both in form, content, message and metaphor ... please excuse the pun in the title (when answering Punditty I get carried away, you know).

Collision Riding Course - Coupletameter

When green,
unseen,
not too well read,
and much less led,
we read from others passed
so words and poems might last.

Lasting friendships much like our poems
(split metaphors in different homes)
do often hibernate with much less joy
no matter what invite one might employ
to respond in verse. This is how my pen is fed:
bright blue means inspired...deficit ink's red.

Read on separate lines that travel different tracks,
sometimes another's poem collides with mine...impacts
in such a way that rather than a crash,
inspired words found in each other's cache,
fuel, no, paint new forms serene... 
depict another poet's scene.

Seen through my looking glass,
the future, not the past,
renews what's read,
as we were led:
ripe, green
foreseen.

© Norman S. Pollack
  
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Just_Daniel
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Coupletameter
Apr 26th, 2005 at 4:15pm
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Coupletameter

I came here seeking [ but not finding, so I'm posting ] this interesting form that Norm has invented  using the rictameter (well, almost, he says) and rhyming couplets in combo — with two lines of each meter: 

monometer 
dimeter 
trimeter 
tetrameter 
pentameter 
hexameter 

He uses a cross or cross-over rhyme at the end of each three stanzas into the first word of the fourth stanza --- just to spice it up a bit. 

. . .  and he says that a PURE Coupletameter must go from 1-6 and then back again from 6-1 with the last six lines echoing back to the first six lines in a slight repeat performance as in a Pantoum, Triolet, villanelle, etc.


Learning Why – A Coupletameter *

When I 
learn why 
we are lovers, 
I'll discover 
that I can't live without 
you just being about. 

About the time it takes to read 
a person or a poem, indeed, 
I might as well just learn I should accept 
the fact you love me though I am inept 
at understanding art the way you want me to, 
much like these poems I've written all these years to you. 

You have been patient even though you know I ain't 
too good at matching colors when we try to paint. 
Aesthetics aren't my bag and this you know, 
It's poetry and words ... saying I love you so. 
So I write and hope I'm showing 
how I feel now that you're knowing… 

Knowing what I'm about 
never to live without 
us as lovers. 
We'll discover 
that I've 
learned why. 

© Norman S. Pollack


Here's my own first attempt: 

Writing Helps

If you
are blue
it helps to write
e’en something trite
because it often spreads
the clouds from ‘round our heads

heads off that cunning, baffling ache
that seems somehow to want to break
our spirits, ‘til they want to scream in pain;
they cannot find that strength to try again —
so we avoid the friends with whom we shared such joy.
But we shall pull ourselves back up — our pens employ,

employing all our gifts with new proclivity
and must’ring ev’ry ounce of creativity . . .
recycling  all our tears from depths of hell
we dip into the deepest, darkest well
to cool them as they shed their gray
now glist’ning in the light of day

dayspring of joy, they shed
the darkness in our head.
It’s helped to write;
no longer trite,
bright blue
for you


© MLee Dickens'son 27 April 2005


Now it's YOUR TURN!
« Last Edit: May 8th, 2008 at 6:56pm by Just_Daniel »  
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