Since I've been playing around with the pantoum, I want to try another strict verse form this week. I've only written a few triolets, largely because the form scares the heck out of me. A triolet is an eight line poem with a tightly rhymed structure and repeated lines. Here is the form.
line 1 - A
line 2 - B
line 3 - A
line 4 - line 1 repeated
line 5 - A
line 6 - B
line 7 - line 1 repeated
line 8 - line 2 repeated
You can read an example and learn more about this form at Poets.org.
Here is a triolet I particularly like. It comes from the book Fly With Poetry: An ABC of Poetry, written and illustrated by Avis Harley.
Phosphorescence
by Avis Harley
Have you ever swum in a sea
alive with silver light
sprinkled from a galaxy?
Have you ever swum in a sea
littered with glitter graffiti
scribbled on liquid night?
Have you ever swum in a sea
alive with silver light?
Another terrific triolet can be found in Paul Janeczko's A Kick in the Head: An Everyday Guide to Poetic Forms. Written by Alice Schertle, the poem is entitled The Cow's Complaint.
Will you write a triolet with me this week? Please share a link to your poem or the poem itself in the comments.
That was a humdinger but I had fun putting it all together.
ReplyDeleteSLEEPTIME TRIOLET
It’s time for me to sleep
Goodnight Mom and Dad.
I promise you won’t hear a peep
It’s time for me to sleep.
There will be no counting of sheep
I must rest, I need it bad.
It’s time for me to sleep
Goodnight Mom and Dad.
(C) Charles Waters 2013 all rights reserved.
I can hear my daughter saying this (but then staying up anyway). Nice, Charles!
DeleteHere’s a bifurcated ode to one of my creative heroes, and his classic pairing of opposites:
ReplyDeleteTwo Triolets for Chuck Jones
By Steven Withrow
Wile E. Coyote
And it’s fast food that does him in.
His heart, an Acme-made grenade,
Cracks before he pulls the pin,
And it’s fast food that does him in.
His shadow grizzles sickly thin
As gulch-grass in arroyo shade.
And it’s fast food that does him in.
His heart—an Acme-made grenade…
The Road Runner
Racing bird, cuckoo rocket,
Burns up blacktop in his sleep.
Speed so quick, no gun can clock it!
Racing bird, cuckoo rocket
(Acme anvils fill his pocket)
Cronks his parting words—Beep, Beep!
Racing bird, cuckoo rocket,
Burns up blacktop in his sleep.
© 2013 Steven Withrow, all right reserved
Hahahaha. I especially like "The Road Runner"; my favorite line is (Acme anvils fill his pocket.) I recently learned that there's actually a term for the place where cartoon characters store such things: hammerspace.
DeleteHammerspace...excellent! Not to be confused with "Hammertime." Thanks, Kate. :-)
DeleteCombining this with my poetry loving fox heroine.
ReplyDeleteSister Fox Stalks the Triolet
As it goes running through the grass,
She crouches down, gets set to pounce.
A triolet has little mass,
As it goes running through the grass.
She steps aside and lets it pass,
Counts the beats, the rhyme, the bounce
As it goes running through the grass.
She crouches down, gets set to pounce.
©2013 Jane Yolen all rights reserved
Love the rhythm here...and the cliffhanger.
DeleteOreo Cookie Day
ReplyDelete(March 6)
after Wendy Cope
My tongue has just decided
Its favorite lunch is you.
And equally delighted?
My stomach! Any-sided
With peanut butter. Why did
I say I’d stop at two?
My tongue has just decided
Its favorite lunch is you.
J. Patrick Lewis
Wendy Cope is a genius. And this poem is delicious. Great use of many-syllabled rhyme, Pat.
DeleteFirst Snow
ReplyDeleteThe first snow came last night.
It did not stay.
Its feet were wisps of bright.
The first snow came last night.
It seemed a dream by moonlight—
gone from the lawn today.
The first snow came last night.
It did not stay.
—Kate Coombs, 2013
all rights reserved
I admire the shifting meter and how the last two lines are amplified by repetition. Shows why the triolet has stayed around.
DeleteWhatever the recipe said
ReplyDeletefor garlic, I always multiply by four.
I never count cloves---just put in the head,
whatever the recipe said.
I'll chop, press, mince, shred,
but better chefs ignore
whatever the recipe said
for garlic. I always multiply by four.