Month: August 2019

The Bop

On By Adam AstraIn Poetry, Poetry ChallengeLeave a comment
Caption: Afaa Michael Weaver–acclaimed poet, short-story writer, editor, and inventor of The Bop.

We were born between rivers [an original bop]

We were born between rivers in the green
heart of the fertile valley. Our skin grew rich
with sun and deep black soil. We saw a light
and recognized a soul. Our dark eyes grew
wide and pulsed with power. Our hands
grew strong and eager and began to drum.

I do not know what it is—but I know it is in me.

In the chant we found a human voice; we cried
and sang. We danced and the rhythm overtook
our feet. Our feet that could not stop began
to wander. In our wandering we found a world
unconquered and in our new restlessness set
to test our will against it. We marched from
war to war–war within and war without–
and we forgot the soul, the voice, the dance.

I do not know what it is—but I know it is in me.

When we remember our soul like water
flowing, our eyes like oceans swimming
in starlight, our hands like branches reaching,
our feet like roots plunging, seeking a center,
We will then remember the strength of stillness.
We will then remember the power of peace.

I do not know what it is—but I know it is in me.

A note on my original bop

My refrain is taken from the following quote:
“There is that in me—I do not know what it is—but I know it is in me.”
— Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, Part 50

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~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~

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Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.

Click Here to learn more about The Bop.

**COME BACK NEXT WEEK TO SEE THE NEXT FORM: THE LUNE!**

–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—

The Kyrielle

On By Adam AstraIn Poetry, Poetry ChallengeLeave a comment
Caption: The troubadour Perdigon playing his fiddle (Wikipedia).

What She’s Due [a Modern Kyrielle]

She chose the way the rivers run,     
The bubbles burst, the drops of dew
Evaporate in morning sun–
The Earth won’t ask for what she’s due.

Where multitudes are cut to one
And forests shrink where once they grew,
There she will end what we’ve begun–
The Earth won’t ask for what she’s due.

This war on nature can’t be won–
Where skies are black that should be blue–
She takes control, she turns the gun–
The Earth won’t ask for what she’s due.

The web of life will be re-spun.
The natural cycles will renew.
When acts of man can’t be undone,
The Earth will take just what she’s due.



 

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~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~

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Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.

Click Here to learn more about The Kyrielle.

**COME BACK NEXT FRIDAY TO SEE THE NEXT WEEK’S FORM: THE BOP!**

–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—



The Triolet

On By Adam AstraIn Poetry, Poetry ChallengeLeave a comment

~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~
(see below for details)

Let’s move this town to higher ground [a modern triolet]*

Let’s move this town to higher ground      
We know these plains will flood again       
We are not bound to stay and drown        
Let’s move this town to higher ground     
A home more sound may yet be found      
These window panes will fill with rain        
Let’s move this town to higher ground      
We know these plains will flood again       

*A Note on My Original Triolet

The internal rhyme located on the second stress of each line is not a formal requirement, but a creative choice by the author. I began the poem with the first line, where the internal rhyme felt natural enough, and decided to challenge myself to see if I could carry the pattern through to the end.

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Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.

Click Here to learn more about The Triolet.

**COME BACK FRIDAY TO SEE THE NEXT WEEK’S FORM: THE KYRIELLE!**

–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—

The Blackout Poem

On By Adam AstraIn Poetry, Poetry ChallengeLeave a comment

~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~
(see below for details)

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Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.

Click Here to learn more about The Blackout Poem.

**COME BACK MONDAY TO SEE THE NEXT WEEK’S FORM: THE TRIOLET!**

–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—

The American Cinquain

On By Adam AstraIn Poetry, Poetry ChallengeLeave a comment

~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~
(see below for details)

“Disturbed Pond”by Clint_Budd

Swimming lessons [an original American cinquain]

For her
dark eyes are pools
for my fool eyes to swim
and all at once I feel I’m made
of waves

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Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.

Click Here to learn more about The American Cinquain.

**COME BACK TOMORROW TO SEE THE NEXT WEEK’S FORM: THE BLACKOUT POEM!**

–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—

The Horatian Ode

On By Adam AstraIn Poetry, Poetry ChallengeLeave a comment

~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~
(see below for details)

A Horatian Ode to the World Goddess

The Goddess of the World, I sing–
Her many forms and faces bring
The light of fertile life,
The fear of judgement’s knife.

Like Draupadi of Indian fame,
Born of the sacrificial flame–
Where she perceives a wall,
Illusion’s palace falls.

Or Anath, golden Canaanite,
Her retribution fierce and right,
She’ll cut you with a word,
Then feed you to the birds.

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Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.

Click Here to learn more about The Horatian Ode.

**COME BACK TOMORROW TO SEE THE NEXT WEEK’S FORM: AMERICAN CINQUAIN!**

–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—

The Cywydd Llosgyrnog

On By Adam AstraIn Poetry, Poetry ChallengeLeave a comment

~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~
(see below for details)

When I stop to watch [an original cywydd llosgyrnog]

When I stop to watch the deep blue
Evening descend and the last few
Fading hues of daylight’s dream
Diffuse into the sloping plains
A peace upon my mind again
Falls like rain into a stream

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Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.

Click Here to learn more about The cywydd Llosgyrnog .

**COME BACK TOMORROW TO SEE THE NEXT WEEK’S FORM: THE HORATIAN ODE!**

–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—

The Minute Poem

On By Adam AstraIn Poetry, Poetry ChallengeLeave a comment

~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~
(see below for details)

Photo Caption: Lucky for us, the Minute Poem counts syllables, not seconds.

I often sleep through summer’s storm [an original minute poem]

I often sleep through summer’s storm 
when nights are warm 
and thick with dreams
or so it seems

the quilt pulled high covers my eyes 
as lightning flies
like moon in shroud 
of creeping cloud

I wake to find the darkened road
the flowers bowed
the sagging sky
the river high

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Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.

Click Here to learn more about The Minute Poem.

**COME BACK TOMORROW TO SEE THE NEXT WEEK’S FORM: THE CYWYDD LLOSGYRNOG!**

–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—

The Décima

On By Adam AstraIn Poetry, Poetry ChallengeLeave a comment

~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~
(see below for details)

Photo caption: Spanish writer, musician, and inventor of the décima–Vicente Gómez Martínez-Espinel

After Maria [an Original Décima Poem]

The cameras flash, Trump fakes a smile;
He holds his breath, swallows a growl,
And throws a roll of paper towels.
Empathy missed by a mile
For Puerto Rico, enchanted isle.
No concern for the common health
of neighbors in the commonwealth;
Once slaving for the hacienda,
Victims of encomienda,
They fight to own a sense of self.

*BONUS~An Original Décima Poem
by Special Guest, Brandon Barnett*

We never knocked on rust-streaked doors
but entered like the bums we were
with hair so ragged–greased like fur–
and alcohol from every pore

The only word we spoke was “more!”
with glassy eyes on shining things
refulgent suds the evening brings
and singing out in harmony

But all that now is far from me
Though oft-recalled with mem’ry strings

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Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.

Click Here to learn more about The Décima- .

**COME BACK MONDAY TO SEE THE NEXT WEEK’S FORM: THE MINUTE POEM!**

–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—

The Miltonic Sonnet

On By Adam AstraIn Poetry, Poetry ChallengeLeave a comment

~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~
(see below for details)

Compassion [an Original Miltonic Sonnet]

The viral imagine haunted every screen–
A photograph too horrid to ignore:
A pair of bloated bodies on the shore.
In Congress followed yet another scene
Of bickering and washing white-hands clean.
No older than The Virgin when she bore
The Savior that they claim to so adore,
The budding mother wonders what they mean.
As children hungry, dirty, sick and scared
Are torn away and locked in concrete halls
Lay weak with worry, overwhelmed with fear,
The value of their lives is weighed and tared;
As Washington debates the costs of walls,
Who dares to speak of Christ’s compassion here?

Notes on My Original Sonnet

I challenged myself to write a sonnet that was true to the Miltonic themes of politics, religion, and current events, and found in the issue of immigration a combination of all three. The line “children hungry, dirty, sick and scared” was taken from this BBC News article and served as the fulcrum of this poem.

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Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.

**COME BACK TOMORROW TO SEE THE NEXT WEEK’S FORM: THE DECIMA!**

Click Here to learn more about the Miltonic Sonnet.

–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—