Rondeau, Poetic Form Exercise Options

[JustDaniel]

So glad that you kept trying, Larry. Continued blessings as you recall your joys and sorrows, Daniel

[Larry]

Will Winter?

Will winter ever go away;
a month, two weeks, another day?
I’m sick and tired of being cold
but seasons cannot be cajoled
like visitors who overstay!

The groundhog's news from its foray
was six more weeks but who's to say.
Prognostication’s oversold!
Will winter ever go away?

I know that spring is on its way
when I can go outside and play
but now the snow and ice enfold.
Soon this will change or so I’m told
I'm getting old. What’s the delay?
Will Winter?

[JustDaniel]

Nice piece, Larry. Not sure why you shortened your last line, but doesn't take away from the message.

Just a few corrections for you:
S2L1 & S3L5 winter (no CAPS on seasons)
S2L1 groundhog's
S2L2 who's
S3L1 spring (no CAPS on seasons)

[JustDaniel]

My Temple

My temple, built to offer praise
of quarried stone each workman lays
on David’s Hill, Jerusalem
for Me a living diadem
a crown of thanks for endless days

My people, if they change their ways
and each to Me attention pays
I’ll listen and provide for them
My temple

For every one who homage pays
and praying, on their new path stays
I’ll gather them together, hem
them in My love as precious gems
Bow daily – not a fad or craze –
My temple


© MLee Dickens’son 2023
Daniel J Ricketts

on II Chronicles 7:14

[Larry]

Very nicely done Daniel! You could probably write a few hundred Rondeaus utilizing the scriptures as inspiration.

Hey Daniel! Surprise… Surprise; an actual critique. Been off line for a few days but I will take your suggestions on the seasons, where appropriate, the possessive “groundhog’s” and the contraction “who’s”. I’ve heard for years about the seasonal rule of thumb of no “CAPS” so I was trying to illustrate, with this poem, that there are actually three instances; with which I am sure you are aware; where that rule is not valid. I veered away from my intended example and dwelled more on being “old and cold”! I was going to emphasize all three but they either didn’t fit into the Rondeau format or, like I said before, I went off on another tangent with the poem. I had planned to use something like “Spring waltzed in…” or “Winter bared his crystal teeth” but the muse sent me on another track. I did get my idea in with the final line with “Will Winter?” That line was shortened for the anthropomorphic characteristics of someone trying to convince “Winter” to change his mind about staying around with their willpower. Thus the short question was asked. I thought that a couple of lines of “foreshadowing” might lead the reader to my point; such as “seasons cannot be cajoled” and “visitors who overstay”. Apparently not! Anyway, I hope my convoluted reasoning brought clarity to the question in the truncated final line. Your suggestions will be edited as soon as I post this answer.

Thanks for the head's up.

[JustDaniel]

Convoluted?

Convoluted? No! Clarification
of your well-seasoned versification
Every winter, spring, summer and fall come
right around year by year almost ho-hum
so they hardly need amplification

Winter's cold, then it takes a vacation
as the crocus prompt infatuation
during springtime... so that seasons become
convoluted

All the rain, sun and clouds in migration
make the lovers embrace affectation
and parade in the streets beating drums
'til the once-passive public succumbs
to a grand antidiscrimination...
convoluted!


© MLee Dickens’son 2023
Daniel J Ricketts

[Larry]

Incompetence

Incompetence is now the rule
including elephant and mule
whose memories and stubbornness
continue on, but I digress.
What once had been a shining jewel

is now a land where every fool
demands redress and knows that you'll
right wrongs and crimes from some U. S.
incompetence!

Now governments and every school
skew facts and truths in constant duel.
Likewise, the media’s a mess
with twisted lies like braided tress.
Therefore, I must conclude it’s cruel
incompetence.



S2/L2 & L3 did read:
demands what’s their perceived redress
for wrongs and crimes from some U. S.

Thank you Daniel! What's really sad is that I had the form parameters cut and pasted on the Rondeau and through my own incompetence, failed to follow those simple guidelines. Guess that is the old "mote/beam" realization.

[JustDaniel]

so sad

So sad that in S2L2
you lost the rhyme scheme; shame on you.
But it was not incompetence.
'twas simply reaching o'er the fence
because you saw that greener view.

aabba! Simply do
aabR in second. You
did abbR, see? and hence...
so sad!

I know your next rondeau won't skew
the rondeau rhyme scheme. There are few
mistakes you make. Your recompense
will show that you have common sense
and henceforth none will misconstrue
"so sad"

[Larry]

I Thank You


I thank you for your kind critique
and for corrections I would seek
for veering from the Rondeau form.
Cognition’s straying from the norm!
I thank you when my Rondeaus reek.

Here lately, things are kind of bleak;
with paddles lost I’m up that creek
but I am weathering the storm.
I thank you!

Your thoughtful humor, tongue in cheek
is part of your expert mystique.
You don’t cajole, berate or harm
the poet’s feelings; that’s your charm.
For guidance when things go oblique,
I thank you.

[JustDaniel]

You’re welcome!

You're welcome to my humorous
critique; it comes from both of us.
We give and take as here we grow
though at our age it is but slow
but know we seldom miss the bus.

We see mistakes and then adjust
and hopefully ere we combust.
I trust my words will never blow
your welcome!

The things we share we oft discuss
expecting that we won't disgust
each other and that we'll bestow
some wisdom tied up in a bow
to give before it turns to dust.
You're welcome.


© MLee Dickens’son 2023
Daniel J Ricketts

[Larry]

Though None May See


Though none may see my offering
except for Daniel, who is king
of Rondeau form. His expertise
in great critiques will always please
the writer and can often bring

a smile; allay correction’s sting.
He tries to make your poem sing
so its perfection may appease
though none may see.

Your thoughts, dredged up on silken string
to which some new ideas cling,
may be the impetus and tease
a story of new budding trees
or all the glory of the spring
though none may see.

[JustDaniel]

Who Cares?

Who cares if no one sees our play
in rhyme and meter every day?
We practice it with wisdom, wit
and silliness... whatever fits
or even sometimes go astray.

For what we write, no one will pay
and we can each take it away
or sometimes simply leave it sit.
Who cares?

We spar, trade punches anyway
and sometimes sing at cabaret
where we perform a little skit
We've ne'er produced a single hit
but prattle for some ass's neigh
who cares.

[Larry]

My Muse

My muse now lies in golden urn
upon the dregs of life. Eyes burn
from loss and memories that fade
with age. The plans which we had made
are dust. Would that I might discern

God’s plan. Although the words now churn
within my mind, I cannot turn
them into forms thus I degrade
my muse.

Through inspiration I should learn
to listen but I often spurn
her goads so now I am afraid
that efforts are a weak charade.
When for her guidance I now yearn,
my muse now lies.



Daniel, it really is difficult; even after nine months, to write a lot without Ginger to inspire me.

[JustDaniel]

A muse who lies

A muse who lies has little use
and can no more your brain seduce.
It's best to move away from her
and spend more time with your old cur
on walks where you pick up its deuce.

The exercise of your caboose
will likely make its size reduce
and also will your saboteur
amuse.

Of course you should not turn to booze
but there are many things to choose
Drive 'round the town with your chauffeur
and with your counselor confer
about the things that would confuse
a muse.

[Larry]

With Love


With love’s demise, so too my muse;
whose inspirations I may chose
to share in simple Rondeau form.
It’s dissipated in this storm
of sadness some may call the blues.

My hope is that I won’t abuse
your mind and heart with saddened news
for I would never wish to harm
your soul, subvert poetic corm
with love’s demise.

They say, with time, the scars will fuse
and some new love will come. I’ll lose
those aches and pains and she may charm;
rekindle fires now cold. She’ll warm
once frozen heart and so enthuse
with love.



Daniel, it's a slow process and I am not there yet. It's only 4 days from that terrible anniversary. Prayers help!

[JustDaniel]

Greening Our Economy

Our money can't be eaten. Plant a tree
and let it bear its fruit for you and me.
Pick up that trash, recycle all the junk
we used to burn or bury; fill your trunk;
transport to our reclaim facility.

Help make our rivers, lakes pollution-free.
Promote wind, wave and solar energy.
Replant, expand the forests that we've shrunk.
Our money can’t be eaten.

Change attitudes to green from bourgeoisie.
Repopulate with fish each lake and sea.
Refresh the ponds and city air that long have stunk.
Reclaim once-sparkling water you have drunk.
Promote the wisdom of the Native Cree:
“Our money can’t be eaten.”


© MLee Dickens’son 2023
Daniel J Ricketts

“Only when the last tree has been cut down, the last fish been caught, and the last stream poisoned, will we realize we cannot eat money“ - Cree Tribe Native American Prophecy

[Larry]

Daniel, I doubt anyone noticed your admonitions to change the way we all live but I want to thank you for the inspiration for my rebuttal.

The Heat

The heat you’re feeling now is just the first
but I have doubts that you have seen the worst.
You really pissed her off for this last time
and now your ass is grass; ain’t worth a dime.
She will not answer prayers; lips dry from thirst.

Your plans are far too late, the dam has burst
for autumn storms will come, you’ll be immersed.
She’ll make sure you are punished for your crime.
The heat

will melt the polar ice; glaciers you’ve cursed.
Sure death will come. No ends of life are nursed!
The floods will cover each and every clime
to wash away the filth; entomb the grime.
Then winter freezes all as she’s reversed
the heat.

[JustDaniel]

You're right!

You're right. We've lived this way for far too long.
Our dying world is right where we belong.
Who thinks that we'd escape are fools for sure
imagining they'll step in no manure
that oozes through their toes 'round that old thong.

We'll practice all our Green to save Hong Kong
but all our efforts merely will prolong
what's racing down the road -- what will assure
your write!

So, piss on everything! Pull out your schlong
and water down the marchers in that throng
imagining Grim Reaper they'll detour.
Okay, perhaps their drive to Green is pure
but all that they expect is very wrong.
You're right.

[Larry]

I’d Think


I’d think the ones who run this ship of fools
would find the brightest minds and use those tools
to mitigate or change our current ways.
It may take time but then it would amaze.
Are we all doomed because of stubborn mules

who’d rather gather money, gold and jewels?
It doesn’t seem to matter who now rules.
They’re all the same until the end of days
I’d think!

We’re now consigned to waste or wars and duels
between the nations of our world. The ghouls
who still believe that road down which they gaze
will see them through the earth’s atomic haze.
If not, we’re all just dust and molecules
I’d think.

[JustDaniel]

Here's my response to a 12-word word bank today:

Blackberries will not grow


Blackberries will not grow in tundra's soil
Such longitudinality will spoil
your berry-searching efforts with despair
Ask any of the guards on Icelandair
Mainstreaming lyrics would be better toil

You'll ne'er get splinters striking keys, nor roil
yourself into a raging, seething boil
Don't let your fascination go to where
blackberries will not grow

Before you shuffle off this mortal coil
no Martian's likely e'er to be your foil
so soar to where the air is sweet and rare
Perhaps you’ll sprout out lizard-wings up there
In dreams there is no place, by rules of Hoyle,
blackberries will not grow


© MLee Dickens’son 2023
Daniel J Ricketts

12-Word Prompt:
blackberries, tundra, longitudinal, despair, guards, mainstream, lyrics, splinter, keys, fascination, Martian, lizard (in order of appearance)

And here's the link on AP: https://allpoetry.com/poem/17365887-Blackbe...MLee-Dickensson