Monday, May 06, 2013

Monday Poetry Stretch - Rhopalic Verse

In the book Fly With Poetry: An ABC of Poetry, written and illustrated by Avis Harley, you'll find descriptions and examples of many different poetic forms. This week I want to try rhopalic verse. Here's how Avis defines it.
Rhopalic Verse: (from Greek "rhopalon"--a club which is thicker at one end)
Lines in which each successive word has one syllable more than the one before it.
Here is an example.
TAPESTRIES

Small spiders filigree
the garden greenery
with silken precision. Delicately, definitively,
they network tapestries
that capture
more
than morning's glorious
dew.

Poem ©Avis Harley. All rights reserved.
So, your challenge is to write a rhopalic verse. Leave me a note about your poem and I'll post the results later this week.

22 comments:

  1. My first attempt....

    On First Seeing the Rhopalic Verse

    You've gotta
    Be kidding


    OK, fine. It's not really that poetic....

    Avis always makes these forms seem so easy, ya know? Guess I'm gonna have to work a bit harder to be Rhopalic.

    ReplyDelete
  2. WAKE UP CALL

    My eardrums
    Are thankful
    For
    Hummingbirds
    Chirping sonatas
    At daybreak.

    (C) Charles Waters 2013 all rights reserved.

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  3. ALARM CLOCK

    I adore humingbirds harmonizing
    Good morning America!
    At sunrise.

    (C) Charles Waters 2013 all rights reserved.

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  4. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  5. Root-bound

    Roots buried
    in bottoms
    of sturdy flowerpots
    twine, tangle, multiply.
    They defy ceramic limitations
    with ropey casual
    grace. Until repotting,
    when sudden silvery revelations
    fall unbound,
    pale, languid, sinister
    as maiden Rapunzel’s
    hair.

    —Kate Coombs, 2013
    all rights reserved

    ReplyDelete
  6. Spring Cardinal

    She rarely composes
    verse. Pending motherhood
    and constant foraging necessitate
    close focus. However, encumbrances unfavorable
    to shaping poetry monopolize
    her routines
    so fully
    she cannot imagine
    hours squandered figuring lineation
    or finding metrical felicities.
    Her only redemption,
    though meager,
    is noting likenesses, haphazardly.
    Not really metaphors.
    Just scattered images, analogies
    of little consequence:
    her partner’s
    red feathers
    like berries ripening,
    her hatchlings
    all sleeping noiselessly
    as rabbits.

    ©2013 Steven Withrow, all rights reserved

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  7. Alas--I wrote one, pushed the publish button, and it disappeared into the ether.

    Jane

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  8. Thanks, Charles, for putting me on the bird trail. Both solid small poems.

    Kate -- Way to rock the adjectives! "Ropey casual grace" -- I can see that.

    Oh, Jane, a promised (then vanished) poem from you is like a map of a tantalizing country...

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  9. Thanks, Steven! I'm really enamored of "hatchlings/all sleeping noiselessly/as rabbits." And Charles, more great birds! I was intrigued that you noticed one could start with 2 syllables and go to 3 since the rules say nothing about starting with 1 every time.

    Nice to be back after a rich alphabetical month of poetry books from Tricia.

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  10. Kate, Steven and Jane. Once more (and not for the last time) all of you push me to better myself through your writings. Jane, I'm sorry yours went POOF. Yet I know it kicked fanny because you've never posted stuff that didn't.

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  11. Love these rhopalics, one and all. Their rhythms are stupendous!

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  12. I have read this blog for quite some time and have wanted to join in the conversation but just never had the courage. The robin's nest right outside our family room window gave me the perfect inspiration, so here goes:

    Twigs, entwined perfectly,
    hug hatchlings, noisily adorable.
    Eat, Mama; hastily regurgitate
    for babies unable
    to wrestle
    earthworms
    for themselves. Finally
    grown, spreading untested
    wings, slowly fluttering hesitantly
    away.
    Left behind
    are
    twigs: empty reminders
    of springtime, discarded.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Love it, Kary--welcome to the fray!

      Delete
    2. Love your poem, Kary. Glad you joined the fray!

      Delete
  13. I have always been hesitant to post a poem, but I was moved by the robin's nest right outside our family room window. So here goes....

    Twigs, entwined perfectly,
    hug hatchlings, noisily adorable.
    Eat, Mama: hastily regurgitate
    for babies unable
    to wrestle
    earthworms
    for themselves. Finally
    grown, spreading untested
    wings, slowly fluttering hesitantly
    away.
    Left behind
    are
    twigs: empty reminders
    of springtime, discarded.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Twigs, entwined perfectly,
    hug hatchlings, noisily adorable.
    Eat, Mama; hastily regurgitate
    for babies unable
    to wrestle
    earthworms
    for themselves. Finally
    grown, spreading untested
    wings, slowly fluttering hesitantly
    away.
    Left behind
    are
    twigs: empty reminders
    of springtime, discarded.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Twigs, entwined perfectly,
    hug hatchlings, noisily adorable.
    Eat, Mama: hastily regurgitate
    for babies unable
    to wrestle
    earthworms
    for themselves. Finally
    grown, spreading untested
    wings, slowly fluttering hesitantly
    away.
    Left behind
    are
    twigs: empty reminders
    of springtime, discarded.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Nice work, Kary! I enjoyed the fluctuating movement in this.

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  17. Kary, I like "unable to wrestle earthworms." Nice picture you've painted!

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  18. Peace
    is not
    a given,
    nor can it be
    taken from a war;
    it is a gift
    bestowed on
    those who
    love.

    ReplyDelete
  19. Love
    always
    finds a way;
    In the deepest,
    darkest, human heart
    there dwells a tiny seed -
    once touched, will burst forth
    and overwhelm
    the foulest,
    blackest
    hate.

    ReplyDelete
  20. At
    the end
    of the day;
    it gets
    dark.

    ReplyDelete