POETIC BLOOMINGS

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

INFORM POETS – QUINTAIN CASCADE

The cascade poetic form was invented by Udit Bhatia. For the cascade poem, a poet takes each line from the first stanza of a poem and makes those the final lines of each stanza afterward. Beyond that, there are no additional rules for rhyming, meter, etc. It can be based on any number of lines, with the tercet or quatrain being immediate choices. But the Quintain Cascade is based on the much more popular form of Quintet as it has no set measure or foot and has a rhyming scheme of a. b. a. b. b.

If it appears to be too taxing, a quatrain or tercet cascade will suffice. (That’s only because I’m feeling extra nice!)

So, a Quintain Cacade would look like this:

a
b
a(1)
b(1)
b(2)

c
d
e
f
a

g
h
i
j
b

k
l
m
n
a(1)

o
p
q
r
b(1)

s
t
u
v
b(2)

***

SARA’S QUINTAIN CASCADE:

TRIVIA

From sunny and hot in May
to cloudy and cool
on a mid-August day.
Kids are thinking school,
too cold for swimming pool.

On limbs of maple tree
red leaves dominate,
some already fallen.
Yard looks like autumn
has come ‘round to stay

Snap! Just like that, heat is back,
time to hit the beach.
Traffic jams on highway
cause trip to take twice as long.
Splat! Burst of rain, sun overruled.

When traveling home, a fog sets in;
cars crawl cautiously
with sight at a premium
on a mid-August day.

Commercials scream sale
on back-to-school supplies.
Puts a damper on play.
Instead of thinking summer,
Kids are thinking school.

We watch disasters unfold
on television news–
famine, floods and fires,
quash our weather woes, like–
too cold for swimming pool.

 

WALTER’S QUINTAIN CASCADE:

CONQUERER

She walks along within his heart,
surrender to her name and she declares her victory.
She, a young beauty a distance apart.
wielding the weapons of love. Her artillery:
raven hair, hazel eyes, her smile spells your captivity.

A tug of war in the tug of hearts,
no strings attached, you were matched
by your play of words. Soaring like birds
released, a reprieve of freedom granted,
she walks along within his heart.

She carries him with her as well,
his tender words become her shield,
protected by his expressive heart,
no surrender does she yield. His soul beckons.
Surrender to her name and she declares her victory.

His journey begins and ends
wherever she reside and he hides
in the rushes until she flushes him out.
Without a doubt, he is her target,
she, the young beauty a distance apart.

Hand-to-hand they take their stand,
vying eye-to-eye. Determined and delighted,
he fights for her honor, a prize secured
and her response is swift and accurate.
She wields the weapons of love. Her artillery

is not pervasive, she replaces
animus with amour. It is sure you will be
the prisoner of her heart right from the start.
Her beauty is your proclivity:
raven hair, hazel eyes, her smile / your captivity.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

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25 thoughts on “INFORM POETS – QUINTAIN CASCADE

  1. well, these look nice, but…yikes!

  2. looks like challenging fun. you both have given wonderful examples…Sara, i love your poignant ending.
    Walt, I love the tug-of-heart threaded through yours!

  3. Committing To ‘I Do’

    You make me say and do some things I thought I never would
    The naughty and the nice become you more than most, ‘tis true
    That day when I first met you my intentions were so good
    How much you’ve taught me while I thought that I was teaching you
    I want to be your student, love, all of my lifetime through

    You lavish me with kisses and the innocence of words
    And darling, you stir me in ways like nobody else could
    You are the smallest, biggest blessing in the whole wide world
    My, my, when I first held you I knew love was pure and good
    You make me say and do some things I thought I never would

    You teach me how to linger longer while throngs thunder by
    I’ve fallen quite in love with living, all because of you
    And often when the day would be gray with life’s weary sigh
    You startle me with laughter like nobody else can do
    The naughty and the nice become you more than most, ‘tis true

    Sometimes I fail you; but you are oblivious to ‘can’t’
    There is no quitting, even when love is misunderstood
    You put your arms around me in the middle of a rant
    And hold nothing against me even though I know you could
    The day when I first met you my intentions were so good

    You are not cumbered with the care of what others might say
    And time is of no matter; ‘will you help me find my shoe?’
    ‘Will you read me a story?’ Where, oh where, along the way,
    Do we become too rushed to lie beneath time’s sky-high blue?
    How much you’ve taught me while I thought that I was teaching you

    Master, mistress of your domain, love’s biggest, smallest charge
    God knows I’m quite unfit to commit to the likes of you
    Yet, since we’ve met you’ve taught me to love and live, free and large
    Though I am middle-age and you are only half-past two
    I want to be your student, love, all of my lifetime through

    © Janet Martin

  4. William Preston on said:

    A LIFE IN THE MINORS

    A poet, hunched in his abode,
    once strived to write some words of gold
    but wrote instead a loathsome load
    of limpid lines from days of old,
    when underwear was damp and cold.

    It’s hard to picture such a scene;
    it fairly cries for Unguentine.
    Imagine Yeats or Keats; I mean,
    was either, even as a teen,
    a poet hunched in his abode?

    Alas, the great ones are so few;
    their works are feats of derring-do.
    But most are minor, through and through,
    for I once knew a poet who
    once strived to write some words of gold.

    This fellow had a modest home;
    was short and fat with naked dome.
    With words alone he used to roam;
    he wanted to create a tome
    but wrote instead a loathsome load

    of trivia too obtuse to read.
    comprising rhymes that made brains bleed.
    He sought to inspire, perhaps to lead,
    but only managed to write a screed
    of limpid lines from days of old.

    You’d think rejections, by and by,
    would frustrate him or make him cry
    but no, he was a resilient guy
    who kept on writing of days gone by,
    when underwear was damp and cold.

  5. connielpeters on said:

    The Fence

    The land before him is immense.
    He came a week ago today.
    And now, he’s here to build a fence.
    He’ll be here, now, for a long stay.
    He dreams good things to come his way.

    Forgetting life he left behind,
    His folks had thought he lost his sense.
    But he believes he saved his mind.
    He’d live here now from this time hence.
    The land before him is immense.

    The mountains speak of steadfast things
    Compelling him to think and pray.
    Will he regret he cut those strings?
    He’d only know on judgement day.
    He came a week ago today.

    T’was nothing left that he could do.
    His move had been a great expense.
    He will just have to see it through.
    The grasses here are thick and dense.
    And now he’s here to build a fence.

    If he could just fence in his life
    And keep his problems there at bay.
    Yes, he could breathe without the strife.
    Let country living hold its sway.
    He’ll be here, now, for a long stay.

    A red-winged blackbird sings its song.
    He gathers hopes like a bouquet.
    This is where all his hopes belong.
    As sun sets, grace is on display.
    He dreams good things to come his way.

  6. Earl Parsons on said:

    Soul Struggles

    The struggles of life can crush the soul
    Even if the soul is uncrushably strong
    Like the Soul that bore the weight of the world
    Giving us hope for our eternal souls
    Hope of a new day dawning forever

    We humans are guilty of amplification
    We often make mountains out of mole hills
    Looking for excuses to quit running life’s race
    Or simply lying down and dying in the face of
    The struggles of life that can crush the soul

    Iron sharpens iron, at least we’ve been told
    Adversity and tragedy makes us stronger
    As long as we apply the hard lessons learned
    We can survive life’s slings and arrows
    Especially if the soul is uncrushably strong

    And our souls are uncrushably strong
    They were created to last for an eternity so
    Why do we burden them with trivial troubles
    We should count on our souls to pull us through
    Like the Soul that bore the weight of the world

    We should practice daily soul strengthening
    Pray a daily dose of spiritual nutrients
    Rely on the One and Only Soul Creator
    The One that gives up hope for all things
    And gives us hope for our eternal souls

    So don’t let life’s struggles crush us
    For our place on this earth is temporary
    One day we’ll laugh at how we worried
    One day we’ll realize where our hope lies
    Hope of a new day dawning forever

    © Earl Parsons

  7. Pax Tecum

    We might drink of the cup of peace,
    in this maelstrom of hate, lies unfurled.
    We could do so simply, with ease,
    disregarding the insults now hurled,
    drink to peaceful change in the world.

    Some say there’s too much hate there,
    that we have no chance,
    no hope, not a prayer.
    I say we can, in fact we must, please.
    We might drink of the cup of peace.

    Some say we have to do something,
    fight back in this violent world.
    I say we should all
    find an anchor
    in this maelstrom of hate, lies unfurled.

    Some say there’ too much anger,
    too much worry and danger,
    too many obstacles to peace.
    I say, of course it looks impossible, but
    we could do so simply, with ease.

    Some say we answer in kind,
    those who seem out of their minds.
    I say just let them rant,
    with their nevers, their nonsense, their can’ts,
    disregarding the insults now hurled.

    Some say there is no answer,
    no reasonable response which just flows.
    I say simply put nothing on the bar
    but your elbows,
    drink to peaceful change in the world.

  8. This is a perfect topic for this form. You really nailed it, Daniel.

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