Prompt Number 23

 

Do not relax your villanelle
Though scrawlers will give up, and slide
And vapid verse attempt to sell—

They type, in vain, a free-verse hell
Where poetry convulsed, then died;
Do not relax your villanelle.

Their poems are an empty shell
Devoid of message. Woe betide
Those babblers who attempt to tell

A tale— or say a dull farewell
Unable to inspire, or guide.
(Do not relax your villanelle.)

So let the lyrics now impel
False poets toward the great noontide;
And may their muses judge them well.

Our destinies run parallel:
Some verses live, where others died.
If you relax your villanelle,
Will other poets then rebel?

 

Try to write a villanelle, and have the poem end on a question.

No Time for NaPo


write your own poem in which the speaker is in dialogue with him or herself

 

1) Rhymed Verse

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I’m schizophrenic
(and so am I.)

 

2) Haiku

roses are reddish
violets, they tend to be blue
sugar is sweet… whoops—

 

3) Free Verse

Rose talk         in my

ear: flowersong/softpetaling

the weird line break

Violet violence                 the hanging 

line  ⌊ ≠  the space 

                                                                        between

Sugarsweetness              and what comes

after

 

YAY I followed the prompt today! Good for me!