POETIC BLOOMINGS

POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.

INFORM POETS – PLEIADES

This titled form was invented in 1999 by Craig Tigerman, Sol Magazine’s Lead Editor. Only one word is allowed in the title followed by a single seven-line stanza. The first word in each line begins with the same letter as the title. Hortensia Anderson, a popular haiku and tanka poet, added her own requirement of restricting the line length to six syllables.

Background of the Pleiades: The Pleiades is a star cluster in the constellation Taurus. It is a cluster of stars identified by the ancients, mentioned by Homer in about 750 B.C and Hesiod in about 700 B.C. Six of the stars are readily visible to the naked eye; depending on visibility conditions between nine and twelve stars can be seen. Modern astronomers note that the cluster contains over 500 stars. The ancients named these stars the seven sisters: Alcyone, Asterope, Celaeno, Electra, Maia, Merope, and Tygeta; nearby are the clearly visible parents, Atlas and Pleione.

The poetic form The Pleiades is aptly named: the seven lines can be said to represent the seven sisters, and the six syllables represent the nearly invisible nature of one sister.

DE’S EXAMPLE:

Starlight

Stain yourself in something
small, pinpricked and silent,
strangely unseen. You must
spill it just right in ink,
splayed loose to ebony
sky. Bright stones aligned; a
sisterhood of lost shine.

Copyright © 2014 De Jackson

***

WALT’S PLEIADE:

WHENEVER

When time allows, he will,
whether now or later.
Who knows when it will be.
Walt’s having a problem.
Will he resolve issues?
Will he reach for tissues?
We’ll have to wait and see.

© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

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196 thoughts on “INFORM POETS – PLEIADES

  1. William Preston on said:

    STARS,

    seven in a teacup,
    scintillating but sad,
    savor their time alone
    suspended in heaven,
    serenely awaiting
    spouses that never come.
    Six of them have bad breath.

    copyright 2014, William Preston

  2. William Preston on said:

    SNAILS

    Slithering on the ground
    slowly, they pick their way
    softly as a church mouse
    seeking crumbs in the pews.
    Shining concrete entrails
    stretch out along their path,
    showing me that even
    subsidence has glamour.

    copyright 2014, William Preston

    • This one took me back to those days when I’d come out on the front porch on a bright summer morning and see silver etching on the concrete in patterns too abstract to be planned.

      Thanks for the memory, William. Terrific little poem.

    • Even here in the Mojave Desert, we get snails sometimes. We have a few in the back yard right now, and I love them. And I LOVE this poem.

  3. WmPreston on said:

    TERPSICHOREAN

    Trippi Tomashevsky
    truly tried his best, but
    tap was not his forte:
    ten times he would begin;
    ten times he would stumble.
    That was his entire act:
    tripping over his feet.

    copyright 2014, William Preston

  4. Sorry gang. Having connectivity problems and a few other issues. I’ll piece it all together before long. Meanwhile check De’s excellent example above and get to writing Pleiade poems. Walt.

  5. River

    Running smooth and lazy
    Round the bend it forks in
    Respect to the island
    Reposing there mid-stream,
    Regathers itself to
    Rage over boulders and
    Rocks in riotous bliss.

  6. flashpoetguy on said:

    TREASURES

    Troves of sparkling riches
    Tapped from ocean bottoms,
    Testify that once great empires
    Tended by long-dead monarchs
    Transferred wealth in mighty ships.
    Tons of gold coins, jewelry, and crowns
    Tucked securely in heavy wooden chests.

    #

  7. Luna

    Lovely Luna shining
    light across the quiet
    land, she quite outshines her
    little sisters until
    leaving bit by bit, she
    lets the seven sisters
    luminosity glow.

  8. connielpeters on said:

    Poeming

    Poeming together helps
    Poets improve their skills
    Plus gives them some special
    Poetic company
    Poeming is worth the time
    Published or just for fun
    Poets, keep poeming on

  9. Winsome

    Whether snow or sunshine,
    winter flows to rhythms
    wound into celestial
    weavings of space and time,
    wearing its cold mantle
    while sparking playtime laughs.

  10. Quirky and zany.

    Z-Z-Z-Z-Z

    Zig-zagging zeal comes like
    zebras in stampede zones,
    zeroing in on grass.
    zipping this way and that,
    Zeus’s humor attempt,
    zinging alpha to zed.

  11. Maia

    Majestic mountains call
    murmurs of her birth, she
    matures as the eldest,
    mother to young Hermes,
    Messenger of the Gods,
    moved to care for the bear’s
    male child, black-eyed Maia.

  12. Priti on said:

    Sparkle
    Shine on me o sister
    surround me with your light
    save me from my selfie
    sifting through, darkened sight
    Speak in rainbow whispers
    soothe crystal broken wings
    strumming Venus’s strings

  13. Settled

    “Settle down” she whispers,
    seeking a tiny spark –
    some inspiration. Un-
    settled is what she is,
    still searching, days later.
    Suddenly, Pleiades
    suggests a solution.
    Situation settled.

    😉 (Also works for April PAD assignment – Day 28 – A settled poem)

  14. Pleasure

    Perhaps she will fail you
    Please, don’t misunderstand
    Poetry perplexes
    Poets with pen in hand
    Pacing half-paragraphs
    Probing thought-oceans stirred
    Painting pictures with word

  15. Pingback: Apple | Metaphors and Smiles

  16. Apple

    An apple is a seed,
    asleep in soil it waits…
    After the rain has come
    and the sun has spilled rays
    a sapling climbs from soil,
    a tree has found its roots;
    awesome blooms transform – fruit.

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014

  17. Amber

    A golden haloed hue
    adorns my neck, pendant.
    Alluring in perfume,
    added to Aquavit,
    and in folk medicine,
    alternative healer.
    Allow the sound to form.

  18. Think about this peeps. I thought of it while reading Hannah’s poem “Apple.” Wouldn’t it be a marvelous kind of poetry example text to have someone (think Hannah here) could put together a alphabet book with an image, the perfect poem in this form which relates to the image, and put it out for Middle Grade students or those in upper elementary? Long question, I know, but think of the possibilities.

    I now return you to your regularly scheduled poem provider.

    • You and me we think lots alike, Claudsy…when I was writing that poem I was thinking how it felt like the beginning of one of those “A is for Apple” etc. books…excellent idea to pair it with poetry though and up the age and purpose…

      I’m glad you shared your thoughts on this…very interesting…if a group attempted it it would be a rather easy task…either way though…individually, still do-able. 🙂

    • Oh, my. I was thinking the same thing the other day. I would love to write an instructional book of poetry that middle grade teachers could use in the classroom. I’ve actually jotted down a few ideas.

      • I guess you may have just found a project, huh? It’s a terrific idea, I think. Go for it girl.

        • I wanna play. Or help. Or read it when somebody else is done. 😉
          Your choice. Keep me in the loop. LOVE this idea.

          • De, I think you can play as much as everyone else around here. I’m not sure what Walt has in mind for this little concept, but I definitely heard his wheels turning a while back when he asks for ideas.

            All he has to do is let the rest o us in on his own idea. 🙂

  19. After seeing the wonderful video Paula posted on Facebook I wrote this.

    Wondrous

    Wings unfurl unleashing
    wide-spread white feathers. We
    witness peacock plumage
    wave and wiggle, watch in
    wonder as he struts his
    wild dance before us.

  20. For all the insomniacs out there.

    Sleepless

    Sleep seems to have sailed off
    somewhere beyond the sea,
    slipped beneath the blazing
    sunset, harboring the
    snores I’ll not breathe tonight.
    Snug under covers, I
    stare at shadows, silent.

  21. Bubbles

    Bubbles

    Bathe my breath in bubbles,
    brilliant rainbow-colored
    balls that tumble from the
    back of my tongue, holding
    bitter words that fly far
    beyond all beings, to
    burst, inflicting no pain.

  22. Muse and a Manky Pencil

    Mid-April, long ago,
    Midriff in tideless words.
    Muddled my boat, adrift.
    Miles of shadowed ink as
    My muse is dulled as lead.
    Marred pencil yellowed, dead,
    May my homeless head, rest.

  23. Pingback: Muse My Manky Pencil | The Chalk Hills Journal

  24. (Poem w/image: http://lettheballoonssailmeaway.wordpress.com)

    Blink

    Blinking stars at night what
    Breathtaking dance will you
    Beckon to me…? Let me
    Behold your mysteries
    Beloved and magical
    Bells mighty, majestic
    Beings silent, twinkling.

  25. Having trouble posting “replies” to Misky and Henrietta’s poems.

    Misky, I LOVE your “Manky Pencil.” Always. 🙂

    Henrietta, I love all those beautiful B’s, especially those last five “Be’s” in a row.

  26. William Preston on said:

    BROBDINGNAGIAN

    Big, it surely is, and
    beautiful, some would say;
    bright orange and fairly
    bursting in Orion,
    Betelgeuse is massive
    but chastened when it’s called
    “beetle juice,” as some do.

    copyright 2014, William Preston

  27. Oh, this task will be as always, a labor of love. A great April by you wonderful people translates into this extraordinary work. Thank you all! Walt.

  28. Pingback: Dreams | echoes from the silence

  29. DREAMS

    Daydreams and nighttime dreams
    dance all ways in my head.
    Delightful stories are
    dished up in fanciful
    delirium against
    dappled misty-gray back-
    drop of unconsciousness.

  30. Maybe it’s the “misty-gray backdrop” that took me there, but I picture those dreams as actors on the stage of your un- (or sub-) conscious. 🙂 Nice job, Paula!

    • Thanks, PSC. 🙂 I’m glad it took you there. That’s kind of what happened as I let the images in my head flow through fingertips onto the page. Sort of a subconscious mind-dump of a poem. 🙂 🙂

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