WD Poetic Form Challenge: Paradelle

First poetic form challenge of 2015, and it’s a doozy! This time, we’ll be tackling the paradelle. Click here to check out how to write a paradelle.

This crazy form created by Billy Collins started as a joke, but it’s target audience (poets!) are gluttons for punishment and a real poetic challenge. And, well, these WD Poetic Form Challenges are supposed to be a challenge too, right? Just remember: I didn’t create this form.

So start writing them and sharing here on the blog (this specific post) for a chance to be published in Writer’s Digest magazine–as part of the Poetic Asides column. (Note: You have to log in to the site to post comments/poems; creating an account is free.)

Here’s how the challenge works:

  • Challenge is free. No entry fee.
  • The winner (and sometimes a runner-up or two) will be featured in a future edition of Writer’s Digest magazine as part of the Poetic Asides column.
  • Deadline 11:59 p.m. (Atlanta, GA time) on March 15, 2015.
  • Poets can enter as many paradelles as they wish. The more “work” you make for me the better, but remember: I’m judging on quality, not quantity.
  • All poems should be previously unpublished. If you have a specific question about your specific situation, just send me an e-mail at robert.brewer@fwcommunity.com. Or just write a new paradelle.
  • I will only consider paradelles shared in the comments below. It gets too confusing for me to check other posts, go to other blogs, etc.
  • Speaking of posting, if this is your first time, your comment may not appear immediately. However, it should appear within a day (or 3–if shared on the weekend). So just hang tight, and it should appear eventually. If not, send me an e-mail at the address above.
  • Please include your name as you would like it to appear in print. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to use your user/screen name, which might be something like HaikuPrincess007 or MrLineBreaker. WD has a healthy circulation, so make it easy for me to get your byline correct.
  • Finally–and most importantly–be sure to have fun!

******

2015 Poet's Market

2015 Poet’s Market

Publish your poetry!

Get the most trusted guide to publishing your poetry: the 2015 Poet’s Market!

Edited by Robert Lee Brewer, this edition of Poet’s Market includes articles on the craft of poetry, business of poetry, and promotion of poetry. Plus, interviews with poets and original contemporary poems. Oh yeah, and hundreds of poetry publishing opportunities, including book publishers, chapbook publishers, magazines, journals, online publications, contests, and so much more!

Click to continue.

*****

Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of the poetry collection, Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He edits Poet’s Market, Writer’s Market, and Guide to Self-Publishing, in addition to writing a free weekly WritersMarket.com newsletter and poetry column for Writer’s Digest magazine. Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.

*****

Find more poetic posts here:

You might also like:

  • No Related Posts

170 thoughts on “WD Poetic Form Challenge: Paradelle

  1. ParadelleSlayer

    “Spring Regenerates”

    Whisping willows wander weightlessly
    Whisping willows wander weightlessly
    Dew droplets transiently traverse
    Dew droplets transiently traverse
    Whisping weightlessly, willows traverse
    Dew droplets wander transiently

    Leaves once aloof, lie lifelessly
    Leaves once aloof, lie lifelessly
    Buried beneath now barren bark
    Buried beneath now barren bark
    Leaves now lie buried lifelessly
    Beneath barren bark, once aloof

    Silent soil slides seductively
    Silent soil slides seductively
    Reinvigorated life, regenerates relentlessly
    Reinvigorated life, regenerates relentlessly
    Silent life regenerates seductively
    Reinvigorated soil slides relentlessly

    Silent dew droplets whisping seductively, lie lifelessly
    Soil now aloof, slides transiently beneath barren leaves
    Willows wander relentlessly, traverse reinvigorated bark
    Once buried, life regenerates weightlessly

    Jeff Oliveira

  2. Xairos

    Grieving Michael the Archangel

    Michael the Archangelic Cat died today.
    Michael the Archangelic Cat died. Today
    he managed just a little purr before he died.
    He managed just a little purr. Before he died
    today, just before he died, Michael the Cat,
    Archangelic, managed a little purr. He died.

    I want to lie down and bawl. All the “never agains”
    I want to lie down and bawl. All the “never agains:”
    hearing him purr his happiness, feeling his plush fur,
    hearing him purr, his happiness feeling, his plush fur…
    I want him to lie down, purr, plush, hearing his happiness.
    And, feeling his fur, all the “never agains,” bawl.

    Like losing God’s presence, delighted regard.
    Like losing. God’s presence de-lighted. Regard
    this being to whom I mattered, icon divine.
    This being to whom I mattered: icon divine.
    Regard losing this being, icon-like, to whom
    I, delighted, mattered. Divine God’s presence.

    Michael the Cat died. I bawl, losing him, all
    this plush happiness, he died to whomever.
    I want to hear his purr again, a little fur icon,
    feeling he managed like his being mattered.
    Lie down today, Archangelic, before God’s
    just regard, and purr. The Divine Presence delights.

    1. Xairos

      Trying this again for better formatting:

      Grieving Michael the Archangel

      Michael the Archangelic Cat died today.
      Michael the Archangelic Cat died. Today
      he managed just a little purr before he died.
      He managed just a little purr. Before he died
      today, just before he died, Michael the Cat,
      Archangelic, managed a little purr. He died.

      I want to lie down and bawl. All the “never agains”
      I want to lie down and bawl. All the “never agains:”
      hearing him purr his happiness, feeling his plush fur,
      hearing him purr, his happiness feeling, his plush fur…
      I want him to lie down, purr, plush, hearing his happiness.
      And, feeling his fur, all the “never agains,” bawl.

      Like losing God’s presence, delighted regard.
      Like losing. God’s presence de-lighted. Regard
      this being to whom I mattered, icon divine.
      This being to whom I mattered: icon divine.
      Regard losing this being, icon-like, to whom,
      I, delighted, mattered. Divine God’s presence.

      Michael the Cat died. I bawl, losing him, all
      this plush happiness, he died to whomever.
      I want to hear his purr again, a little fur icon,
      feeling he managed like his being mattered.
      Lie down today, Archangelic, before God’s
      just regard, and purr. The Divine Presence delights.

      1. Xairos

        Phew! I think I’ll stick to Villanelles and Sestinas after this!

        Congrats to all who managed to do one (or more?!!), especially if they actually made sense 🙂

  3. Margie Fuston

    9 to 5

    Dream. Wake up. Pour cream in patterns in coffee.
    Dream. Wake up. Pour cream in patterns in coffee.
    Burn your tongue on another sip.
    Burn your tongue on another sip.
    Wake up in coffee, in cream. Burn another sip.
    Pour patterns on your tongue. Dream.

    Drive to work two miles over the speed limit.
    Drive to work two miles over the speed limit.
    Don’t notice the poppies on the side of the road.
    Don’t notice the poppies on the side of the road.
    The poppies on the side of the road
    don’t notice the speed limit. Drive over two miles to work.

    Watch the clock on the wall. It ticks a slow minute.
    Watch the clock on the wall. It ticks a slow minute.
    Avoid the smiling woman in a blue dress with buttons.
    Avoid the smiling woman in a blue dress with buttons.
    Watch the wall, the clock, the woman in a dress with buttons.
    A slow, blue minute ticks on, smiling. Avoid it

    with patterns on the cream wall. Work
    two miles over the speed limit. Pour a minute
    in coffee. Watch it. Avoid another sip.
    Dream in blue buttons on a dress. Drive into
    the slow poppies on the side of the road, the woman.
    Notice your tongue ticks, smiling. Burn the clock. Don’t wake up.

    1. Xairos

      O! I like this! The repetition works for suggesting the routine repetition of day after day. And then it all kind of bursts and rebels against the mundane over & over actions of the daily routine. I guess it is possible to make this form work well.

  4. erin.pendleton

    Vigil

    The candle burns softly tonight.
    The candle burns softly tonight.
    Flickering shadows in a pool of warmth.
    Flickering shadows in a pool of warmth.
    The flickering candle shadows burns
    Softly in warmth, a pool of tonight.

    It dwindles as the hours while.
    It dwindles as the hours while.
    Amid hushed murmurs of evening.
    Amid hushed murmurs of evening.
    Evening dwindles hushed amid the
    Hours while it ask of murmurs.

    Time creeps forward slowly.
    Time creeps forward slowly.
    Silent partner of the dripping wax.
    Silent partner of the dripping wax.
    Partner time, slowly the dripping
    Forward of wax creeps silent.

    Silent, the evening hours, amid the
    Pool of candle wax. Tonight, ask
    Time of flickering shadows, murmurs.
    Warmth creeps forward, burns softly;
    A hushed partner of the dripping,
    It dwindles slowly in.

    -Erin Pendleton

  5. Jane Shlensky

    Empty is Full

    Wandering deserts for forty years, they grow
    Wandering deserts for forty years, they grow
    disgruntled with mirages of promised lands
    disgruntled with mirages of promised land,
    Forty disgruntled years of wandering deserts,
    they grow with mirages for lands promised.

    Daydreaming punishment, in love with
    Daydreaming punishment, in love with
    slavery, freedom is too much like work.
    slavery, freedom is too much like work.
    In love with too much freedom,
    work slavery is like daydreaming punishment.

    They needed sand to blast them clean
    They needed sand to blast them clean
    as uncarved blocks ready for new foundations.
    as uncarved blocks ready for new foundations.
    Blast them, for they needed blocks as ready
    foundations, uncarved new sand to clean.

    Forty years of wandering like disgruntled
    mirages into deserts is slavery with too much
    freedom. Daydreaming, they grow
    promised foundations, sand punishment clean,
    work with blocks as ready for uncarved love.
    Blast them, for they needed new lands.

  6. JayGee2711

    RAVEN’S SKY

    The sky swoops dark and low,
    The sky swoops dark and low
    On raven’s wings and the rain begins
    On raven’s wings and the rain begins,
    And ravens swoop low on the rain
    And the dark sky wings begin.

    Trees dance wild in the wind,
    Trees dance wild in the wind,
    Sway to the beat of thunder drums,
    Sway to the beat of thunder drums,
    Wild trees sway to the drums,
    Winds dance in the beat of thunder.

    Flashes fade, the darkness hums,
    Flashes fade, the darkness hums,
    Leaves grow still and quiet comes,
    Leaves grow still and quiet comes,
    Quiet flashes come and leave,
    Hums still fade, the darkness grows.

    The wings of rain in trees
    sway dark and wild. The dance grows,
    and leaves swoop low on thunder wind.
    Flashes hum,the beat still comes,
    darkness begins. And the
    raven’s sky fades the drums to quiet.

    Julie Germain

  7. RebekahJ

    Alarum

    Caution: No Diving
    Caution: No Diving
    Adults should not swim alone
    Adults should not swim alone
    Adults diving alone know
    Caution should not swim

    Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear
    Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear
    How’s my driving? Call toll-free
    How’s my driving? Call toll-free
    Mirror-driving may be free, my toll-call appear closer
    Than objects in the house

    This is only a test
    This is only a test
    If it had been a real emergency
    If it had been a real emergency
    A real test. If only. This is emergency?
    Had it been a

    Swim alone, a diving test, had been a toll,
    If only my adults, in closer than caution, should call it—how’s this?—emergency,
    No objects may appear. They be not mirrors.
    Real is driving free.

  8. shellkaysm

    Portal

    I want to believe past potential’s portal
    I want to believe past potential’s portal
    And trust–unquestioningly–of hope in healing
    And trust–unquestioningly–of hope in healing
    Portal to trust, unquestioningly I believe
    And of potential’s past in hope, want healing

    With the luminous first light, I approach on tiptoe
    With the luminous first light, I approach on tiptoe
    Then nudge open the garden gate’s patina latch
    Then nudge open the garden gate’s patina latch
    With light nudge, the patina gate’s open
    First, I tiptoe approach the luminous garden, then latch on

    A seed under grace becomes a miracle magnified
    A seed under grace becomes a miracle magnified
    Reassured once again, possibility personified
    Reassured once again, possibility personified
    Once under magnified possibility, a miracle again
    Becomes personified grace: a reassured seed

    I want a grace garden, personified, with the latch open
    Patina under healing light, once a seed of hope, magnified
    Potential’s luminous possibility becomes miracle portal
    To unquestioningly on nudge past
    Reassured in the trust gates
    I first approach, and tiptoe, then believe again

  9. Jane Shlensky

    Returns

    A stubble of sprouts shade the hill’s round jaw
    A stubble of sprouts shade the hill’s round jaw
    corn shoots lined like runways for crows.
    corn shoots lined like runways for crows.
    The crow’s jaw shoots round for corn sprouts,
    like a shade hill’s lined stubble of runways.

    Finch flocks suspend then drop
    Finch flocks suspend then drop
    to plowed fields, dazzled with furrowing.
    to plowed fields, dazzled with furrowing.
    Drop to then dazzled plowed fields;
    suspend flocks with finch furrowing.

    Robins like hood ornaments bob atop pastured cow pies
    Robins like hood ornaments bob atop pastured cow pies
    sensing dung beetles and winter’s end.
    sensing dung beetles and winter’s end.
    And winter’s dung beetles bob, sensing cow pies
    end atop pastured robins like hood ornaments.

    Crows like cow pies drop to plowed fields and jaw,
    sensing corn sprouts like the hill’s hood ornaments
    for shoots of a shade stubble. Round robins end
    atop winter’s dung beetles, suspend pastured
    runways lined with flocks of furrowing finch,
    then bob, dazzled.

  10. Jane Shlensky

    In Transition

    Whatever created grand canyons and blue lakes
    Whatever created grand canyons and blue lakes
    destroyed life for a time
    destroyed life for a time
    For a time, grand canyons and lakes
    created whatever blue life destroyed.

    Cataclysm is an artist;
    Cataclysm is an artist;
    earthquake and volcano sculpt terrain.
    earthquake and volcano sculpt terrain.
    An artist is terrain; earthquake and
    volcano sculpt cataclysm.

    Smoldering lava, earth’s heart melted for us
    Smoldering lava, earth’s heart melted for us
    such horrible rifts that people find beautiful.
    such horrible rifts that people find beautiful.
    Horrible smoldering people, earth’s lava melted
    rifts that find for us such beautiful heart.

    Earth’s smoldering heart—earthquake and volcano—
    sculpt grand canyons, people, and lakes; for a time,
    lava destroyed life, terrain melted for us.
    Is cataclysm horrible?
    An artist created rifts that find
    such blue life beautiful.

  11. Jane Shlensky

    Morning

    You sleep
    You sleep
    adrift in Russian dreams
    adrift in Russian dreams
    Adrift in dreams, Russian, you sleep

    while I write a poem,
    while I write a poem,
    unlock your breath’s language
    unlock your breath’s language
    While your breath’s language, I write, unlock a poem.

    We need frequent
    We need frequent
    translation and hope to love
    translation and hope to love
    We love translation and frequent need, to hope.

    In Russian dreams, you unlock breath’s language, your translation adrift.
    While we need love and frequent sleep, I write a poem to hope.

    1. Jane Shlensky

      So sorry friends. My lines scattered. I’ll try it again.

      Morning

      You sleep
      You sleep
      adrift in Russian dreams
      adrift in Russian dreams
      Adrift in dreams, Russian,
      you sleep

      while I write a poem,
      while I write a poem,
      unlock your breath’s language
      unlock your breath’s language
      While your breath’s language,
      I write, unlock a poem.

      We need frequent
      We need frequent
      translation and hope to love
      translation and hope to love
      We love translation and
      frequent need, to hope.

      In Russian dreams,
      you unlock breath’s language,
      your translation adrift.
      While we need love
      and frequent sleep,
      I write a poem to hope.

  12. Sally Valentine

    Yesterday plays the lower staff.
    Yesterday plays the lower staff.
    Deep round rhythm, baboom, baboom.
    Deep round rhythm, baboom, baboom.
    Lower staff rhythm, round baboom.
    Baboom plays the deep Yesterday.

    Today sings out the melody.
    Today sings out the melody.
    Da de, dum de, dum dum, de doh de.
    Da de, dum de, dum dum, de doh de.
    The melody sings out dum de, da de,
    dum dum, de doh de Today.

    Tomorrow conducts the unplayed score.
    Tomorrow conducts the unplaced score.
    Composing now unheard chord.
    Composing now unheard chord.
    Chord composing, the score conducts
    now unplayed, unheard Tomorrow.

    De de, dum dum, baboom, baboom.
    De dum, da doh de plays out the score.
    The unplayed, unheard chord now sings.
    The deep round lower staff conducts
    rhythm, melody, composing
    Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow.

  13. Jane Shlensky

    To a Finch

    A gold finch snapped against my window
    A gold finch snapped against my window
    outstretched neck, flitting wing
    outstretched neck, flitting wing
    A finch neck snapped against my window, gold flitting wing outstretched.

    Its heart fluttered and stopped in my hand
    Its heart fluttered and stopped in my hand
    its beak open, eyes glazed
    its beak open, eyes glazed
    My eyes glazed, hand fluttered, and
    stopped, heart open in its beak, its

    warmth still held by feathers
    warmth still held by feathers
    perfect in their symmetry
    perfect in their symmetry
    Still feathers held by warmth, their perfect symmetry in

    a fluttered flitting finch in its gold feathers’ symmetry held still
    against my neck and hand, eyes glazed by their warmth,
    its beak in my outstretched heart, window wing snapped
    open, stopped and perfect.

    1. Jane Shlensky

      Sorry, Robert and friends, correct lines below:

      To a Finch

      A gold finch snapped against my window
      A gold finch snapped against my window
      outstretched neck, flitting wing
      outstretched neck, flitting wing
      A finch neck snapped against my window,
      gold flitting wing outstretched.

      Its heart fluttered and stopped in my hand
      Its heart fluttered and stopped in my hand
      its beak open, eyes glazed
      its beak open, eyes glazed
      My eyes glazed, hand fluttered, and stopped,
      heart open in its beak, its

      warmth still held by feathers
      warmth still held by feathers
      perfect in their symmetry
      perfect in their symmetry
      Still feathers held by warmth,
      their perfect symmetry in

      a fluttered flitting finch in its gold feathers’
      symmetry held still against my neck and hand,
      eyes glazed by their warmth,
      its beak in my outstretched heart,
      window wing snapped open,
      stopped and perfect.

  14. Jane Shlensky

    For Every One, a Spring

    A child plain as a bulb
    A child plain as a bulb
    grows petals of promise inside.
    grows petals of promise inside.
    Plain as petals, a bulb of promise grows inside a child.

    Quenched earth, warm roots
    Quenched earth, warm roots
    and foliage forms slowly.
    and foliage forms slowly.
    Slowly earth-quenched roots and warm foliage forms.

    Hope’s shoots emerge and innate gifts bloom;
    Hope’s shoots emerge and innate gifts bloom;
    Teachers nurture possibility.
    Teachers nurture possibility.
    Teachers’ innate hopes nurture gifts; possibility shoots emerge and bloom.

    Teachers promise a child quenched roots, shoots, foliage,
    and petals of bloom. Warm as a bulb, possibility grows plain;
    hope’s innate gifts form slowly inside, nurture earth, and emerge.

    1. Jane Shlensky

      My final foul-up corrected.

      For Every One, a Spring

      A child plain as a bulb
      A child plain as a bulb
      grows petals of promise inside.
      grows petals of promise inside.
      Plain as petals, a bulb of
      promise grows inside a child.

      Quenched earth, warm roots
      Quenched earth, warm roots
      and foliage forms slowly.
      and foliage forms slowly.
      Slowly earth-quenched roots
      and warm foliage forms.

      Hope’s shoots emerge and innate gifts bloom;
      Hope’s shoots emerge and innate gifts bloom;
      Teachers nurture possibility.
      Teachers nurture possibility.
      Teachers’ innate hopes nurture gifts;
      possibility shoots emerge and bloom.

      Teachers promise a child quenched roots,
      shoots, foliage, and petals of bloom.
      Warm as a bulb, possibility grows
      plain; hope’s innate gifts form
      slowly inside, nurture earth,
      and emerge.

  15. Azma

    Towering uneasiness
    I often ponder over unwitting behavior
    I often ponder over unwitting behavior,
    at times that I have for my own
    at times that I have for my own
    I often have that behavior for ponder, over my own,
    at unwitting times.

    When emotions are a muddle, so punishing
    when emotions are a muddle, so punishing
    and opportunities of redemption don’t come by
    and opportunities of redemption don’t come by
    And so, don’t a muddle of emotions come
    when redemption by opportunities are punishing?

    Struggles to cover up are often in vain
    struggles to cover up are often in vain
    For who has patience that sustain?
    for who has patience that sustain?
    Who are up for struggles in vain?
    Patience, that has often cover to sustain.

    So I often ponder over struggles
    and who often own emotions that are unwitting
    At times I have punishing behavior,
    Don’t cover up for my muddle.
    Of when that patience for opportunities are in vain
    has a redemption come by to sustain?

    -Azma Sheikh

  16. Grezar15

    Ask Me Not
    By: Nigel Dos

    Ask me not why I sing.
    Ask me not why I sing.
    There is no reason.
    There is no reason.
    Ask not why there is
    No reason. Me, I sing.

    Look into the endless void.
    Look into the endless void.
    What do you see?
    What do you see?
    Look into what?
    Do you see the void, endless.

    Must an answer exist?
    Must an answer exist?
    Will it be desirable?
    Will it be desirable?
    Must it be desirable?
    Will an answer exist?

    Ask not must
    an answer be desirable.
    No reason into why I, me, sing.
    Look, will it? What is endless?
    There, you see,
    the void must exist.

  17. bonanreb

    Little One
    Rebecca Bonanni

    Bundles of love spark before
    Bundles of love spark before
    Patches of pain fall behind.
    Patches of pain fall behind.
    Before patches of spark fall
    Love of Bundles behind pain.

    Little baby, oh my son,
    Little baby, oh my son,
    Giggling, grinning, odes of joy.
    Giggling, grinning, odes of joy.
    Oh, baby, odes of giggling
    My joy, little son grinning.

    Sprout slowly, dancing deftly.
    Sprout slowly, dancing deftly:
    Stages whirling; time spinning.
    Stages whirling; time spinning.
    Slowly spinning, dancing—sprout
    Deftly. Stages whirling time.

    Dancing son, my Sprout of
    Baby, odes of pain behind
    Giggling love. Little fall spark
    Before slowly grinning joy
    Deftly stages Bundle’s time:
    Patches of whirling, spinning. Oh!

  18. restonpoet

    what won’t let you sleep
    it’s like a noise that wakes you from the edge of sleep
    it’s like a noise that wakes you from the edge of sleep
    and finds you staring into shadowed corners anticipating
    and finds you staring into shadowed corners anticipating
    the edge that finds you staring into sleep shadowed
    anticipating a noise from corners that wake you

    not just your imagination shadows reshaping edges curves
    not just your imagination shadows reshaping edges curves
    something groans breaks in the corner inside your chest
    something groans breaks in the corner inside your chest
    groans reshaping your chest not just inside curves of corners
    something in the shadows breaks edges in your imagination

    you are frozen in place by more than the hurt of dark memories
    you are frozen in place by more than the hurt of dark memories
    peculiar light turns familiar to mixture of fear and temptation
    peculiar light turns familiar to mixture of fear and temptation
    memories turn peculiar mixture of dark and temptation
    familiar light frozen by more than fear to hurt you in place

    a noise that breaks sleep and groans in your chest
    memories turn anticipating mixture of dark imagination
    light shadowed to hurt you by more than familiar fear
    frozen inside curves of edge that finds the edges in place
    just staring into corners from corners peculiar not you
    something in your shadows wakes you reshaping temptation

  19. Diana Ann Bisares

    Tough!

    A Dull Day
    (Diana Ann Bisares)

    I roll out of bed just before the sun and mountain kiss,
    I roll out of bed just before the sun and mountain kiss,
    take the pot over burning firewood, when skin’s still cold.
    take the pot over burning firewood, when skin’s still cold.
    Skin’s before burning firewood, take out the cold of bed.
    The pot roll over just when the sun and mountain kiss. I

    sit down with a sigh. I close my eyes in patience.
    sit down with a sigh. I close my eyes in patience.
    Then I hear the wonted tune from boughs and of mornings.
    Then I hear the wonted tune from boughs and of mornings.
    Mornings hear a wonted sigh of patience down the boughs;
    From then, tune and I sit close. With in my eyes, I

    am dull as this day and of yore, I lost all optimism.
    am dull as this day and of yore, I lost all optimism.
    Dreams were in the leaves that left many an autumn ago.
    Dreams were in the leaves that left many an autumn ago.
    An autumn this day leaves that dull, lost optimism of yore;
    I were and am all left in as many the dreams ago.

    Were my dreams of yore lost over an autumn cold? — I sigh.
    When the sun left that wonted kiss in the mountain and boughs,
    Leaves and eyes roll. Just take the dull day, close this down!
    Then I hear all tune from many mornings ago…
    Skin’s before a bed, firewood burning in and out,
    With the pot of patience and optimism, I sit as I am.

  20. PressOn

    ESCAPE

    I held hope in humble hands.
    I held hope in humble hands;
    I proffered a home in my heart.
    I proffered a home in my heart;
    I proffered humble hands in my hope;
    I held a home in my heart.

    You despised me.
    You despised me
    but you deprived me;
    but you deprived me:
    despised me, but deprived me.
    You. You.

    Now, I am alone.
    now I am alone
    but I am free;
    but I am free.
    Now I am alone; free;
    but I am.

    In my humble hope I proffered hands; a home in my heart.
    I held you
    but you despised me;
    deprived me.
    Now I am alone, but free
    I am.

    William Preston

    1. grcran

      oh wow! I reallyreally like this… you have skillfully, nay, masterfully, chosen words and phrases which match incredibly well with this difficult thankless form… I actually think you caused the paradelle to surrender to your superior poetic skill and intelligence… quite impressive and powerful poem! rusty

  21. De Jackson

    Whew. That was HARD. Almost harder than a sestina, for me. KUDOS to all; these are amazing!

    Paradelle for the Moon

    Perhaps she has spoken much too soon.
    Perhaps she has spoken much too soon.
    She is shrinking, a blinking crescent lost.
    She is shrinking, a blinking crescent lost.
    Perhaps she is blinking, a shrinking crescent
    spoken too soon. She has lost much.

    We tossed her to the tides, alone.
    We tossed her to the tides, alone.
    Her song cannot release its sway.
    Her song cannot release its sway.
    Alone, her song tides her to the
    tossed. We cannot sway its release.

    Mirror her face, with broken tears.
    Mirror her face, with broken tears.
    Even the tumbled sky is tired of waiting.
    Even the tumbled sky is tired of waiting.
    The mirror tears her face, broken with
    waiting. Even tumbled is tired of sky.

    Perhaps she is alone too much, the lost
    crescent of sky shrinking her to broken.
    She has spoken its blinking – a tired, tum
    -bled song. Even with her sway, soon
    her release is tossed. We cannot
    mirror tides, face the waiting tears.

    .

  22. OneSecondLook

    A Paradelle for the Little Red Circle

    Update your status.
    Update your status.
    Your friends need to know.
    Your friends need to know.
    Need your friends?
    Update your status to know.

    Click here!
    Click here!
    Your friends want you to see this.
    Your friends want you to see this.
    You want to see this?
    Click your friends here.

    Tweet, but not for long.
    Tweet, but not for long.
    Life is too short for thinking.
    Life is too short for thinking.
    But, is short thinking too long for life?
    Tweet for not.

    You tweet your status.
    Want to see this, friends?
    Your short update,
    Not for long thinking, but here too
    Friends need to know —
    Your click is for life.

    -Caleb Harris

COMMENT