INFORM POETS – LUC-BAT

The luc bat is a poetry form of Vietnamese origin. Luc-bat means “six-eight”, in that the poem consists of alternating lines of six and eight syllables. In this poem the rhyme scheme presents itself at the end of every eight-syllable line and rhymes on the sixth syllable of both of the next two lines.

Here’s how the first few lines of luc-bat poems appear in rhyme:

XXXXXA
XXXXXAXB
XXXXXB
XXXXXBXC
XXXXXC
XXXXXCXD
XXXXXD
XXXXXDXE

In an example from 2010:

AGAINST THE MUTED SKY

Against the muted sky
shades of gray fill my eye and show
all that I need to know.
The lesson makes me grow surer
that all I ask from her
are thoughts that are as pure as she,
and all she asks from me
is the wisdom to see her soul.
Oh, learned one, control
every step towards the goal I seek,
for I am truly meek,
and I pray for this weak moment
to show me I am bent
on becoming the gent whose heart,
although miles apart,
can offer just the start it needs.
It has planted the seeds
that will grow past the weeds and fly
against the muted sky.

© Walt Wojtanik 2010

WALT’S NEW EXAMPLE:

BEATLES 1964

BEATLES 1964

6/8 BEAT

It started with a beat.
The rhythm moved your feet and you
found yourself lost. It’s true,
with the first “Love Me Do” it seemed
that no one could have dreamed
of four who would have teamed on stage
to perpetrate this rage,
turn a historic page; music,
melodies and lyrics to give
words by which we could live above
all else, words laced with love
and all we need is love, for sure.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

SHARON’S LUC BAT:

I was so taken by this poem by Sharon, that I rushed to include it for the Sunday prompt. Upon re-reading it, I realized it was Sharon’s example for the Luc-Bat form. Sharon, I apologize for my error. I will include the poem here as it should have been.

LOVE NEVER CEASES
(for Farley, my wolf)

You amble now so slow
and I can see you grow old ‘fore
my eyes, wolf I adore
Moving carefully, you’re on ice
snow’s bad but still quite nice,
soft should a sacrifice be that
last step which lays you flat
Frail, a misstep, a fall splat down
break a bone, oh dear hound
I fear to see your mound, your grave

I fear I know I won’t be brave…

(C) Copyright Sharon Ingraham – 2014