[Mary Meriam]

In honor of Janice's cinquain craze at Non-Met, I tried one. You?

Night Sounds

A cat?
A moaning cow?
A loon crossing the lake?
Some creature howls, while we, inside,
are hushed.

~~~
Night sounds.
A moaning cow?
Or loon across the lake?
Some creature howls, while we, inside,
are hushed.


Cinquain: 22 syllables
syllables/iambs
2 - 1 iamb
4 - 2 iamb
6 - 3 iamb
8 - 4 iamb
2 - 1 iamb



[This message has been edited by Mary Meriam (edited June 20, 2008).]

[Janice D. Soderling]

Nice, Mary.

But this cinquain stuff is NOT an amusement. It is serious business.

Well, maybe it is a drill.

Your first line is interesting. I would read it as a trochee, NIGHT sounds, "the sounds in the night", if I didn't know you meant it as an iamb. But of course "night SOUNDS" as in "The night has noises." However, I am the metrics dummy, right?
Right!

Anyway, there in a poem in this little old cinquain, indeed there is. It conjures up the memory of a 10-day canoe trip in the wilderness of the far north back when I couldn't tell a loon cry from a cow moo.

My first canoe excursion.

[Shaun J. Russell]

We wake
To sodden sheets;
A pact between our flesh
Was made: a treaty signed with love
And lust.

(Never tried a cinquain before...thanks for this thread, Mary!)

[This message has been edited by E. Shaun Russell (edited June 20, 2008).]

[John Whitworth]

Three for the price of one!

Lovesong for Adelaide Crapsey

(who invented the cinquain)

I wish
I hadda laid
The lovely Adelaide
I wish I hadda laid her in
The park.
.
For she’s
So very sweet,
So pretty and so neat
I shoulda more ’n kissed her in
The dark.

The way
She looks at me,
Hell, any fool can see
The lady’s good ‘n ready for
A lark!

[Mary Meriam]

Right you are, Janice. "Night sounds" was niggling me, so I changed it to the title. I can see it's tempting to rely on articles in the cinquain.

Very damp, E. Shaun. Good one.

John - Positively Shakespearean. Did you know Christopher Ricks calls ! "shriek marks"? Really, I love what you did here!

[Shaun J. Russell]

A poem
Can never be
Objective, but in form.
The subject must inform the work's
Intent.

Without
A doubt, the breath
Of inspiration lies
Where balance buoys the content with
The form.

And yet,
No poem is great
(Or worthy of debate)
Unless the reader finds its theme
Innate.



[This message has been edited by E. Shaun Russell (edited June 20, 2008).]

[Frank Hubeny]

John, your "Lovesong for Adelaide Crapsey" gave this form some life.

I don't understand why the line breaks are where they are, but, hey this is poetry--put 'em where you want.

[This message has been edited by Frank Hubeny (edited June 20, 2008).]

[Janice D. Soderling]

Mary, way to go. Simple change works wonders.

John,

Shaun, I think your second posting, top one is the best.

Frank, Check out the rules for cinquain.

Then maybe you will write one too?

[Anne Bryant-Hamon]

Water Running Off My Back

I am
a duck who ducks
the flying fiery darts.
I waddle through Eratosphere.
No fear.


[This message has been edited by Anne Bryant-Hamon (edited June 20, 2008).]

[Shaun J. Russell]

Haha. I love it, Anne, especially in light of recent events!


To duck
The barbs and darts
Cast forth, engulfed in flames,
Takes skill. Persist where others can't
(Or won't).