Thursday, November 22, 2012

PAD Week Three-Weary Poetry

Well, I finally fell behind in the 2012 November PAD Chapbook Challenge on Robert Lee Brewer's Poetic Asides blog. I'm optimistic that I'll be able to catch up by the end of this weekend.
We had a really interesting prompt on Day 18--the glosa. This form was used by poets of the Spanish court in the 14 and 15 centuries. Start with four lines from another poem. Write four 10-line stanzas. Line 10 of each stanza is one of the four lines from the epigram. Lines 6, 9 and 10 rhyme.
This was really a challenge for me because short poetry is my niche. For me, this form was like writing about 4-6 poems. It didn't come naturally to me, but I got through it. In the end, I enjoyed this prompt.
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed.
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
-Langston Hughes, “The Weary Blues”

The man was weary, but couldn’t rest.
He knew what brought on the restlessness,
but he didn’t know how to still it, how to chill it.
Instead, he went along with it, let it lead the way.
He ventured out into a cold, crisp night,
thinking his journey would end fairly soon.
His pace matched his state, quick and jumpy.
Suddenly, the air carried music to his ears.
The notes seemed to come with their own wound   
And far into the night he crooned that tune.

Although the song was weary, too,
it gave him a rhythm with which to move.
He walked through the streets to the new beat.
Now, he couldn’t seem to still his feet.
He traveled farther then he had planned and
realized his senses hadn’t been atuned
to the passage of time, the distance he covered.
He made his return in the dead of night
and wished for the speed of a character in a cartoon.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The music remained his companion
as he headed home that night.
He found the music soothing
even though it was a lament.
He found the words came easily
as he snapped his fingers with each tread.
Before he knew it, he was unlocking the door.
He had left his restlessness in the streets
and his soul had been well feed.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed.
So, what had he accomplished
by wandering in the dark?
His circumstances hadn’t changed.
His problems still existed.
Yet, he had found something
 that could help him shed
the anxiety that had stalked him.
As he drifted off to sleep, he let
his new found peacefulness spread
while the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
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