POETIC BLOOMINGS

POETIC BLOOMINGS, a site established in May 2011 and which reunites Marie Elena Good and Walter J Wojtanik to help nurture and inspire the poetic spirit.

INFORM POET – OCTAMETER

Octameter, is a poem made up of 16 lines (stanzas of 8 lines each). Each line has a syllable count of 5. The set rhyme scheme is: a/b/c/d/e/d/f/d  g/h/c/g/i/g/d/d. This seems an extremely convoluted rhyme scheme, so your poetic license will not be revoked if you use your judgement on choosing a different pattern, or forgoing the scheme all together, I’ll have no problem with it. We’re about writing poems here, so get to it!

An alternate rhyme scheme: a,b,c,d,e,a,b,a  a,b,c,d,e,c,d,c

 

WALT’S MOSTLY TRADITIONAL OCTAMETER:

A GENTLE MAN, by Walter J Wojtanik

Gnarled and twisted hands
calloused and sore, more
used to hard work than
to life’s sheer kindness;
blood, sweat and tears, mere
offerings. Blindness
to those who shirk work,
their thinking, mindless.

A gentle man, he
gives of his worn heart,
more used to love than
life’s absurdity.
His mangled hands touch
her soft purity.
Her love is timeless;
fills him with fineness.

***

The alternate take:

WALTER CAME TO CALL, by Walter J Wojtanik

Walter came to call,
and all would come out
all about the place.
What he had to say
didn’t phase the folks.
No one took the fall,
and they all had doubts
when Walt came to call.

Walter had a plan
and every man knew
all that Walter said.
They hid it quite well
and acted quite dumb.
So when he was through
Walter went to bed.
It’s what you would do.

 

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52 thoughts on “INFORM POET – OCTAMETER

  1. Yeah I took wild latitude with everything here, changing the rhyme scheme and the number of lines, but, oh well, I let the muse fly. I am still smiling about your poems Walt, they are both brilliant and entertaining!

    WILD CREATIONISM

    It hits just like a lightening bolt
    and courses like an electric jolt,
    but sometimes feels more like the sea,
    a wave that rushes over me.
    I can be driven by how I feel
    and strong emotions take the wheel..
    But other times its happenstance,
    an inspiration just by chance.

    At times my hands just can’t keep still,
    moving quite without my will.
    Other days it seems a chore
    and things don’t flow like times before.
    Sometimes there’s a goal to reach
    or lessons that I want to teach.
    It may sneak up just like a tide,
    so I grab a pen and take the ride.

    I feel I have a part to play,
    impressive insights, things to say,
    demons that just must get out,
    things that I must rage about.
    The creative mind is unexplored.
    It may be weird, but never bored.
    My imperative muse does loudly cry,
    to make it stop, I let it fly.

  2. William Preston on said:

    Walt, this threw me. The name of the form suggests an eight-foot or eight-beat line; i.e., dimater, trimeter, tetrameter, pentameter, etc.

  3. POEM TITLE: a/b/c/d/e/d/f/d g/h/c/g/i/g/d/d

    When the composer
    of a poem form
    is quite mischievous,
    she makes a rhyme scheme
    I have to write down.
    That just seems extreme,
    and I find it hard
    on my self-esteem.

    I check and recheck
    to see if it’s right.
    Have I missed the bus?
    Don’t like this a speck!
    Back up. Try again.
    And now what?! Oh heck …
    As I change midstream,
    I just want to scream!

    © Marie Elena Good, 2019

  4. Darlene Franklin on said:

    Christmas brings glory
    and Christmas brings peace.
    Glorious Father
    and peace-giving Son.
    God’s pleasure in man
    celebrated in story
    and song do not cease,
    celebratory.

    A joy, not duty
    to live in that peace.
    Gift from the Father,
    paid for by the Son
    who became a man.
    It was his pleasure
    to meet law’s demands.
    Praise him forever

  5. a,b,c,d,e,a,b,a a,b,c,d,e,c,d,c

    Long after midnight
    when the house has chilled
    and settled into creaks
    I reach for the quilt
    folded at my feet
    for the gentle bite
    of autumn has filled
    the air with a slight

    iciness of breath.
    and I remember
    the thread, in out in,
    as you pulled it through
    the scraps of your life
    and those of your kin.
    I remember you
    when the chill begins.

  6. Rainbow Lessons

    When the rain was gone
    a rainbow appeared
    then doubled in size
    covering the sky.
    Oh my, quite a sight
    to gaze awed, upon.
    Snap! It disappeared.
    Sighs from everyone.

    For children, something
    new was learned–colors
    of the rainbow’s arc.
    Mnemonic–Roy G.
    Biv–helped them recall
    rainbow color chart.
    Were happy to be
    here where rainbows sparked.

  7. Earl Parsons on said:

    The Octameter

    The Octameter
    Two stanzas of eight
    Five syllable lines
    An odd rhyming scheme
    Who would think this up?
    It’s like a bad dream
    Following these rules
    Harder than it seems

    I’ll try nonetheless
    I like a challenge
    I’ll try to define
    Sense out of this mess
    Always fun to write
    Words to meet the test
    Harder then it seems
    It’s like a bad dream

  8. Fireflies

    you must wait til dark
    to see the light show
    it begins slowly
    one flash at a time
    until the whole yard
    has a party shine
    insect messages
    in the summertime

    they out-glow the moon
    put the stars to shame
    night is more holy
    makes new lovers swoon
    hope morning won’t come
    can not face high noon
    but the sun must climb
    farewell bugs sublime

  9. Stormy Evening

    Leaves tremble in wind
    A storm approaches
    Fragrance fill the air
    Coolness strokes my cheek
    A cat saunters by
    Lending its mystique
    Large, purplish clouds dim
    Touches mountain peak

    I breathe it all in
    As I hurry home
    I know no one’s there
    Thunder rumble, growls
    Quickly turn the key
    A dog nearby howls
    Normal, so to speak
    I try not to freak

  10. Earl Parsons on said:

    .
    .
    .
    Reborn

    I am not the same
    As I was before
    Not the same at all
    But for the body
    My soul was reborn
    A soul you can’t see
    But I know it’s changed
    He changed it in me

    My old soul is dead
    No more will it rule
    I now get commands
    From God’s word instead
    It speaks through all time
    Of when God’s Son bled
    When Christ set us free
    Of when He saved me

  11. Earl Parsons on said:

    .
    .
    Magna Doodle

    When she was just two
    I bought my grandchild
    A Magna Doodle
    She really loved it
    For sixty seconds
    But when she dropped it
    I drew a picture
    Once more she loved it

    From time to time she
    Scribbled wildly on
    That Magna Doodle
    Pictures only she
    Knew just what they were
    She’s show it to me
    I’d say I loved it
    Then she’d erase it

  12. Walt, both poems are wonderful, but that first one really touched me.

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