‘New Poetry Form’ by Paula Light
Today I would like to introduce A new poetry form for your moose: Not a sonnet haiku villanelle— I think you will enjoy it quite well. The lines should number twenty-four; Word count is ninety-seven, no more! Syllables are whatever you wish, Except line eleven, which has only six. The theme shall be your favorite word, And you must parrot with some type of bird,* Along with a color, a sport, and a beer— I do hope this is perfectly clear. It’s not really too terribly hard, Though I request you compose it in a car. Also, the last word of each lovely line Should together form a sentence sublime, And the sentence must be from a recipe Your great-grandmother made out of ghee. I call this form Calvin-Verse; If you dislike it I’ll invent something worse. So I look forward to reading your post, Which you must link to my butterfly host, And one more thing — lines seven and ten Should rhyme with insanity — the end!
*Get it? Pair it?
‘The Blues’ by Suzette Benjamin
Written in response to Paula Light’s ‘New Poetry Form’
Western seagulls hang-glide blue skies. Nearby, blue-tailed magpies tilt their beaks squinting, plotting, sizing up, my azure steed's hooves (my car tires), eyeing the morsels tucked in the tires' grooves. While, apartment dwellers in skyscrapers 'sing the blues.'— about trotting hooves making beelines for personal earlobe real estate. Here's a prime example: Mondays' eve, come mid-Winter when HDTVs become ramparts blasting sound volleys, down-the-hall turrets; pelting Hockey Night in Canada play by play tooting horns to the occasional goal, while commercials toast with the popular staple: beer or ale, Molson Canadian - Labatts Blue, Cheers eh!