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Balladeer
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0 posted 2009-03-27 10:48 PM


A group of three lines is known as a triplet, or a tercet. Many forms can be created using triplets with different rhyme schemes. We can begin easy. Give me a poem using three triplets with a rhyme scheme of a-a-b, c-c-b, d-d-b. What this means is the first two lines of each tercet will rhyme and the last lines of all three tercets will rhyme with each other....and don't forget the meter, please.

Oh, yes....make the poem about the town you live in

© Copyright 2009 Michael Mack - All Rights Reserved
critical mass
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1 posted 2009-03-28 12:08 PM


We live in Solitude
it's south of Beingrude
and north of Takeahike on County Line.

There is no traffic light,
neon to fill the night,
or drunks to puke up a bottle of wine.

Still we have lots of fun
when we decide to run
over to Roadkill on Squirrel and dine.

Alison
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2 posted 2009-03-28 01:30 PM


critical mass,

I really enjoyed this.  Welcome.

Alison

critical mass
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3 posted 2009-03-28 02:19 PM


Thank you Alison.

I had fun with that.

Maybe I'll see you over on Squirrel at the diner sometime.

Balladeer
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4 posted 2009-03-28 04:23 PM


Nice to meet you,  critical mass. Gotta love this entry. Your last lines in the second and third stanzas kill a nice meter that the first stanza set up but it was a very clever piece and worthy of a tip o' the hat
critical mass
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5 posted 2009-03-28 06:33 PM


Balladeer

thank you

One more try .


We live in Solitude
it's south of Beingrude
and north of Takeahike on County Line.

There is no traffic light,
neon to fill the night,
or drunks upchucking bellies full of wine

Still we have lots of fun
when we decide to run
to Roadkill out on Squirrel when we dine.


Thanks for the welcome



Alison
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6 posted 2009-03-28 07:30 PM


Just wondering - are you counting two syllables in "squirrel" or one?

I like this poem even more when I read it again.

A

critical mass
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7 posted 2009-03-28 07:56 PM


Alison thanks again.

Two syllables on squir/rel, that gives the line ten beats.
Of course I was moon walking in the kitchen when I wrote this so my count may be off by a nose.

Alison
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8 posted 2009-03-28 08:14 PM


That's what I thought - it sounded off if I read it with one syllable.  

By George, I might be getting the hang of this after all.

It's great that you are joining us in the Workshop.  Now I best go work on my own contribution.

A

Balladeer
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9 posted 2009-03-28 08:18 PM


Alison, I think you may just be getting it!! Yes!

Excellent changes, CM. Poem flows as smooth as silk.....nice work!

critical mass
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10 posted 2009-03-28 08:28 PM


Balladeer

Thank you.

Never hurts to rewrite, and believe me I'm the King of squash and toss.

Alison
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11 posted 2009-03-28 11:04 PM


I like squash!



Okay, okay.  I am going!

Alison
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12 posted 2009-03-29 12:45 PM


Country Girl Dreams


Winter darkness creates sighs
Summer sunshine remains high
Flowers blooming, splashing colors over blue

Robins flit in cherry trees
Sweetly singing, slumbers ease
Early dawn will paint each morning bright and new

Thunder showers end the day
Keeping forest fires at bay
Making endless plans of outdoor things to do

--

Alison

critical mass
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13 posted 2009-03-29 09:46 AM


Alison

How in the world did you manage 11 beats per line in the three rhyming lines.
Even Poe couldn't have done that on his best day.

6
6
11

6
6
11

6
6
11

Have fun with this.



Alison
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14 posted 2009-03-29 01:26 PM


Tequila?



(kidding)

Balladeer
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15 posted 2009-03-29 10:17 PM


AhA! A Jose  Cuervo composition! I should have known!!

You are really getting this down, Alison. The meter is good, the syllable counts are right on and, although I won't place you over Poe quite yet, your improvement is spectacular. Keep it up!

Alison
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16 posted 2009-03-29 10:54 PM


laughing

Let's not even put me and Poe in the same sentence!

I am happy though that I am making some headway.  Is it acceptable to go back and redo assignments?

And (not to be the class tattle tale), but where is Moose?

A

Dr.Moose1
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Bewilderment , USA
17 posted 2009-03-30 06:44 AM


Alison,
I'll be along momentarily, I got a little sidetracked reading everyone elses' work.
Doc
(tattle-tale, lol)

[This message has been edited by Dr.Moose1 (03-30-2009 09:42 AM).]

Dr.Moose1
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Bewilderment , USA
18 posted 2009-03-30 09:48 AM


A curious experiment
has left me in Bewilderment
just tapping these four feet

I followed Alice through the glass
awoke in this poetics class
and had the luck to meet

First Nan and then the "Balladeer"
it's now been ten rewarding years
but one must be discreet

For in Bewilderment we say
though Cheshire cats may fade away
and queens may off some heads

Imagination holds the key
but practice makes good poetry
of course then there's the meds

'cuz one pill makes you smaller n'
the other makes you taller n'
it's like the Walrus said

moonbeam
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19 posted 2009-03-30 05:21 PM


Ok now I'm totally confused.  As a total rhyming duffer I was going to try this in preference to the impossible gender bender thing you set a few days ago Mike.  But Critical Mass's nice comment about Alison's poem has got me wondering.  

Does the poem have to have that 6 6 11 structure?  And anyway where does  6 6 11 come from? If we're talking syllables I make it 7 7 11?  And what does CM mean by "beats", does beats mean syllables as he/she seems to imply by mentioning 11 in the final lines?  I thought "beat" usually referred to the stressed syllable of a foot, but it's quite rare to use that term isn't it? And do we have to write in a specific meter?  And I thought it had to be about our town (Moose?), or can a beginner have a bit of latitude?  Oh, and one last thing, have I missed something about Poe?  CM mentions that even Poe couldn't write lines of 11 beats, is there something particularly difficult about this that I need to know before trying?  Sorry for all the questions, but it's daunting enough trying to do something I don't normally do without the added confusion.

Grinch
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Whoville
20 posted 2009-03-30 07:52 PM



Old terraced houses stained by smoke
With cobbled streets, so hard to walk,
Down every alley stood a cotton mill.

Great chimney stacks that powered the boom
That drove the shuttle, spun the loom
All laid down low, to rest or gravely ill.

See Blackburn through the mist and rain
The clog sparked flag’s long lost refrain,
A memory, she holds me softly still.

------------------

Sorry, it's not very good, I tend to rush things.

.

Balladeer
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21 posted 2009-03-30 08:36 PM


Does the poem have to have that 6 6 11 structure?

No, the poem can have any structure you like

And anyway where does  6 6 11 come from? If we're talking syllables I make it 7 7 11?

Me, too. Maybe critical mass uses new math??

And what does CM mean by "beats", does beats mean syllables as he/she seems to imply by mentioning 11 in the final lines?  I thought "beat" usually referred to the stressed syllable of a foot, but it's quite rare to use that term isn't it?

I agree with you. Perhaps CM is a beat poet? I'll let him explain what he means by beats.

And do we have to write in a specific meter?  

No, but the meter needs to be constant for the fluidity of the poem. Use iambic, trochaic, anipestic or anything you like, but stay with it throughout the poem.

And I thought it had to be about our town (Moose?), or can a beginner have a bit of latitude?

You didn't have to get to Moose's poem to see a deviation there. check out the tongue-in-cheek names CM used! Moose is, well, moose. His home town is reported to be on a distant planet

Oh, and one last thing, have I missed something about Poe?  CM mentions that even Poe couldn't write lines of 11 beats, is there something particularly difficult about this that I need to know before trying?

No, there is nothing particularly difficult about 11 syllable lines. Poe probably wouldn't write 11 syllable lines because...he wouldn't want to!

Good questions, moonbeam, showing a lot of thought on your part.

Balladeer
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22 posted 2009-03-30 09:06 PM


Well, grinch, you may not think much of it but I really like it. it's an excellent portrait of a once-active boom town, factories working, houses sooted from chimney smoke, deserted now as the boom died with only the closed factories and soot remaining as a reminder of what it once had been. It paints an excellent before and after picture, all in the space of a few lines....it works for me.

Moose, first Alison told on you and then so did moonbeam.

Alison
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23 posted 2009-03-30 11:21 PM


I didn't really do my town either -- I'll try that part again.  And I counted 7-7-11 too - and like I said, let's not put me in the same sentence with Poe.  I am still trying to pull my feet out of my mouth most of the time.

A

moonbeam
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24 posted 2009-03-31 04:04 AM


Grinch awww now I feel really homesick.

Thanks Mike, that was very useful, I'm a little busy today but I'll try

Dr.Moose1
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25 posted 2009-03-31 07:07 AM


moonbeam ,
I didn't miss the part about "hometown", just used a little more "lattitude" than longitude. On these blue pages I list my address as Bewilderment, USA. I didn't mean to add to the confusion. Welcome to the workshop.
Doc

Balladeer,
Lol @ "distant planet".
Doc

Alison,
Nice job on that. " I'm tellin' Teach", lol.
Doc

critical mass,
Like the humor in that, welcome to the workshop.
Doc

Grinch,
Gotta agree with Balladeer, nice imagery. I can drive three miles down the road and see this, or just read your poem again. I think I'll save the gas.
Doc

[This message has been edited by Dr.Moose1 (03-31-2009 07:48 AM).]

critical mass
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Posts 275
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26 posted 2009-03-31 09:05 PM


Don't look at me, I'm no poet and besides I'm old.
and thanx Moose for the welcome.----7 beats ha

Claira
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Posts 102
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27 posted 2009-04-04 09:06 AM


I'll be back soon with this assignment.

Alison, you have come on in leaps and bounds

Oklahoma Rose
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since 2008-02-28
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28 posted 2009-04-04 06:26 PM


Ok Sir Balladeer, I managed to come up with a little something for this assignment. I know it's not the best, but, it's all I've got. I promise to try to do another one. A little better, I hope. Anyway, here it is.

Tornado Seasons

The sun is shining bright today
But tomorrow is another day
You never know what each day brings

The ground could be covered with snow
Then again, the sun could continue to show
We could actually start having Spring

The one thing I could do without
Are those tornados that roam about
It doesn’t make for a very happy Spring



Balladeer
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29 posted 2009-04-04 08:18 PM


Very nice, Rose! You got the triplet down perfectly, in a poem that makes excellent sense. One never knows about the weather this time of year...watch out for those tornados!!!
Oklahoma Rose
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30 posted 2009-04-04 09:27 PM


Awwww Balladeer! You made me smile as big as the ocean. LOL! Well, maybe not quite that big. It thrills me to know that I finally got something right on the first try. Thank you so much for not giving up on me. I'm still going to attempt the previous assignments we were suppose to do. I guess late is better, than never, huh?
Alison
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31 posted 2009-04-05 11:17 PM


Hey Claira - thank you.  And, Sue?  That's great .. you can never get your assignments in too late.  So there, girl friend.

Okay, my class is over and I am ready to knuckle down and work on my poem.  See, Sue, I am the late one!

A

Marc-Andre
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since 2008-12-07
Posts 501

32 posted 2009-04-19 04:10 PM


Yep, that's seems to be the right place for it. There are quite a few metrical substitutions in that one, mostly line-starting headless feet.

I shall go home now, where resentment aged,
Where umbrage has long simmered,  where once raged
Stern teapot tempests. Whether I am scum

Or dregs to him, to me, it’s now all froth.
There, on the porch or on the heath, the wroth
Curmudgeon huffs and waits, much soused on mum.

It has been years. There I shall pace the room
Where mom imbued all gauds with cheap perfume,
Where she exhibited phantasmagorias.

There‘s on the dusty boudoir desk  the tribal
Canon: dated almanacs, the Bible
And the Reader’s Digest.  (The Victoria’s

Secret set’s now safely tucked below
Dad’s smutty mattress.) Decked with bibelots,
A teak (unvarnished) vanity; its broken

Mirror held together with duct tape
Reflects the plastic crucifix, the crape
That wraps her cherished New York subway token

Lying on the sticky bed. I’ll sneak
To the kitchen, to the fridge whose leak
Will reek of rotten cabbage and of soured

Milk. I’ll pare the ham of its slime mold
Spread crusty mustard on brown bread (months old)
And scoff a sandwich. After I have scoured

For hours, with copious barfing on the floor,
I’ll find behind the medicine cabinet’s door
A helpful bottle of old Mickey Finn

(I think dad uses it to brush his denture.)
I’ll strip and gawk at the portrayed trencher
And black-and-white nudes of my auntie Lynn

That adorn the walls, and have a bath
Reciting “Daddy” (verse by Sylvia Plath)
With shampoo made of blue sea weed extracts

And Asian soap of durian essence
That grandma bought when I came in pubescence
(She didn’t see well, with her cataracts.)

Indeed I will return to my ground zero
That place where I would never be a hero
Where all my faults remain, enshrined and known;

This is where they have seen my shriveled penis,
What I’ll look like when I (as all our genus,)
Will bald and lose my teeth. There I’ll atone

For being born, and I will learn to tell
My dad I’ll love him still when I’m in hell.

Balladeer
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33 posted 2009-04-26 07:14 PM


Marc Andre, you certainly come up with incredible rhymes...no easy way out for you and that's a very commendable trait. You push the limit and I like it....nicely done.
Marc-Andre
Senior Member
since 2008-12-07
Posts 501

34 posted 2009-04-28 09:58 AM


Balladeer, thanks for the encouraging comments. Much of the credit you give me I owe to you. You've been teaching me a lot, and you've pushed me onwards too.

What happened to the CA forum? I spend most of my forum time on sites solely dedicated to workshopping lately, but I'll sure keep coming here to the poetry workshop to keep learning.

Mark

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