[I know I haven't posted in a while. I'm sorry, but I will not make excuses. I've been posting primarily on my YouTube channel. My intent has never been to neglect this. Please bear with me as I strive for balance.
The forthcoming post is a part of the February in March series that I started at the beginning of last month and am still working to complete. This is based on the concept "Words." Further, it is based on a poem originally posted here in August of 2010, one of my earliest posts.]
Those of you who have known me for a while know that I wrote a lot of poetry several years ago. That being said, I scarcely write so much as a stanza anymore. It simply doesn't happen. Occasionally though something will move me in that manner. The verses flow in unison with the blood in my veins. My heart races as I see the words materializing on the paper. It's a beautiful thing.
I've never been a fan of form. Emphasis has always been difficult for me, leaving meter as the bane of my existence. The only real exceptions to my hatred for form are the Sestina and Haiku (which is arguably not a real form in the English language). Occasionally, in order to push myself out of a box, I have to make an exception to this rule.
There is an ancient French form called a Paradelle. It includes a very complex pattern of line re-use, followed by a large amount of word re-use. The first poem ever written in this form was Billy Collin's Paradelle for Susan in his 1998 book Picnic Lightning. Yes, you read that right - this ancient form has been around for a whopping fifteen years. In actuality Collins coined the style in order to critique heavily formulaic poetry.
About three years ago I decided to write a poem inspired by the form. It was two stanzas long, with each stanza using an identical list of words. The goal, which I never accomplished, was to reach 54 words. This one is 15. I got up to about 25 before I stopped. This particular one, entitled first date, is definitely my favorite. I hope you enjoy.
You and I.
The date.
The chairs and the table.
Under the surface? A mystery…
Table and chairs date under a surface mystery.
The you. The I.
And the the.
While I'm sure some of you do not like the second stanza, I feel it is an accurate definition of the awkwardness that surrounds a first date.
