Me Terzanelle - You Game??

Ok, poetic geniuses. You have all aced every assignment so far so let's get just a wee bit more complex with....the TERZANELLE!


The Terzanelle is a poetry type which is a combination of the villanelle and the
terza rima forms. It is a 19-line poem consisting of five interlocking triplets/tercets
plus a concluding quatrain in which the first and third lines of the first triplet appear
as refrains. The middle line of each triplet is repeated, reappearing as the last line
of the succeeding triplet with the exception of the center line of the next-to-the-last
stanza which appears in the quatrain. The rhyme and refrain scheme for the triplets
is as follows:

1. A
2. B
3. A

4. b
5. C
6. B

7. c
8. D
9. C

10. d
11. E
12. D

13. e
14. F
15. E

Ending Type 1:

16. f
17. A
18. F
19. A

Ending Type 2:

16. f
17. F
18. A
19. A

Each line of the poem should be the same metrical length.

Here's an example....


September

September, drifting in with glow of moon,
You stifle Summer’s ardor. . . and she grieves.
In guise of fire, then Fall comes all too soon.

Your breath grows cool. You’ll blow and loosen leaves.
The hills and woodlands will reflect new hues.
You stifle Summer’s ardor. . . and she grieves.

In Autumn’s chill, the colors are a ruse.
For as you pass, the trees are set ablaze.
The hills and woodlands then reflect new hues.

Though warmth may linger through your final days,
old Sun is waning, yet he still seems strong!
For as you pass, the trees are set ablaze.

September, you’re a melancholy song.
Though time be short, you paint a brilliant dusk!
Old sun is waning, yet he still seems strong.

October looms. . . Your ending will be brusque.
September, drifting in with glow of moon,
though time be short, you paint a brilliant dusk.
In guise of fire, then Fall comes all too soon.

Copyright © 2006 Andrea Dietrich

RE: Me Terzanelle - You Game??

Conversations - Overheard in a Bar


That man, there at the bar that you don't know;
poor guy has nowhere else to go but here.
He stays till closing time and then goes home.

He likes to say there's nothing left to fear;
an honest man, hard worker all his life,
poor guy has nowhere else to go but here.

He talks about his work, his kids, his wife,
but when she left, she took away his pride.
An honest man, hard worker all his life

he tries his best to keep the pain inside.
Here at the bar, he likes to prove he's tough,
but when she left, she took away his pride.

He tells us it was him who had enough.
When she left, it was him who told her to.
Here at the bar, he likes to prove he's tough

and though he'll ask to spend the night with you,
just say no, it's the only thing to do.
That man, there at the bar that you don't know,
he stays till closing time and then goes home.

Last edited by Aria 05-28-2010 at 11:10:35 PM

RE: Me Terzanelle - You Game??

Another brilliant piece, Aria. Not only did you follow the form perfectly, the poem itself is really something. You paint a perfect scenario of a lonely man in a bar, hurting after being rejected but putting on his false sense of bravado to hide the fact that HE was the one left behind. The mood and the tone you set are ideal. This particular form of poetry is perfect for this poem, continually driving home the important points of the poem with repetition. You are a gifted lady...

If I had one thing to nitpick about (which is almost a crime with this poem) it would be this line..

Here at the bar, he acts like he's real tough,

The first time I read it, I mentally spoke "real" as having two syllables and it threw the meter off for me. Then I read it a second time with "real" as one word and it fit ok. The fact that one can read it the first way, though, is taking a chance it will sound a little off-key to some. If I were you, I would change the word to eliminate any doubt as to how it will be read. Something like...

Here at the bar, he acts like he is tough
Here at the bar, he acts like he's so tough

Just a suggestion.

RE: Me Terzanelle - You Game??

I have changed the line. Thanks, Balladeer!

RE: Me Terzanelle - You Game??

The race to Rosie's Heart
_____________________



They came from down the road of sunset bend
the dust was moving faster than their car
it looked to be a race that now, would end

they stopped in front of Cloie's Dine 'n Bar
and dragged the day inside at Rosie's booth
the dust was moving faster than their car

and covered hands and faces, not aloof
like Mason, when his crew came into town
and dragged the day inside at Rosie's booth

and Cookie had to make them quiet down
as newbies sang of Hollywood and Wine
like Mason, when his crew came into town

with hoots and howls of how she looked so fine
and vied to win her heart, she always sighed
as newbies sang of Hollywood and Wine

while highway cops were pulling up outside
they came from down the road of sunset bend
a robbery, a get-away, one died
it looked to be a race that now, would end.

Quote

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RE: Me Terzanelle - You Game??

I continue to be amazed at the poets on this site. Not only do you follow the structure, you do it in perfect meter and with a poem rich in flavor and ambiance. I can see the poem unfold before my eyes, line for line, and the feeling draws me in.

Critique this poem, Springsize? I wouldn't touch a letter of it. It's remarkable. Thank you for sharing...

RE: RE: Me Terzanelle - You Game??

RE: Me Terzanelle - You Game??

As anger slowly suffers, grief withdraws.
Though mending, Peace may not reclaim its throne.
This soul is still harassed by rage’s jaws.

The loss and tears allow this wrath a home.
No timeline can exist for such a fire.
Though mending, Peace may not reclaim its throne.

Such power lies behind this force of ire,
And still, I must move forward to survive.
No timeline can exist for such a fire.

The bitter pain reminds me I’m alive.
A fierce and tender longing starts to rise,
And still I must move forward to survive.

The self I show is simply in disguise.
I try to live each day as though not crushed.
A fierce and tender longing starts to rise.

Recovery takes time and won’t be rushed.
As anger slowly suffers, grief withdraws.
I try to live each day as though not crushed;
This soul is still harassed by rage’s jaws.

Last edited by simoneaugustus 06-15-2010 at 12:10:12 AM

RE: Me Terzanelle - You Game??

WOW WOW WOW, and let me add a WOW!!!!

This poem is perfection, Simone. Your iambic doesn't miss a beat, the rhyme scheme is exact and, understanding the meaning behind the poem, it is brilliantly written. Critique it?? Impossible! There is not one word, one letter that I would change. I think this was the perfect poetic form to make your story so hard-hitting. I applaud you, miss.


(you do need to change start to starts, though)