MsJacquiiC

Call For Submissions for our sister-site Poetry-Defined.com. The form CinqTroisDecaLa Rhyme is one of my favorite forms. Invented by Laura Lamarca, it is a rather simplistic form that consists of one ten-line stanza. The rhyme scheme for the CinqTroisDecaLa Rhyme is AABBCCCABC - each line should consist of fifteen (15) syllables.

The call for CinqTroisDecaLa Rhyme closes near August 20, 2007. Please refer to the NEW Poetic Type Published Rules & Guidelines for more info on the rules and guidelines for submitting poetry.

Below is the webpage your CinqTroisDecaLa Rhyme poem will be associated with if and when chosen for inclusion. Please refer to the description and definitive example below for more information about the form.

As stated above - this is one of my most favorite forms. The form's rules are quite simplistic, but should allow for a great deal of diversity. So... I look forward to seeing your creativity within the scope of CinqTroisDecaLa Rhyme! Please post your poetry submissions in this thread. Enjoy - Be Creative AND Happy posting!

Jacquii.

Originating Website: http://poetry-defined.com/index.php?categoryid=7&p2_articleid=24

Sartor

CinqTroisDecaLa Faeries

Have you ever seen the faeries, they are magical you know,
they can take the shape of insects, as they flitter to and fro.
It’s been said the female faerie, often chooses butterfly,
and the male becomes the grasshopper, as he goes hopping by.
The colors of the butterfly, which adorn a flashing wing,
are much the same as faerie folk‘s, and about it faeries sing.
The grasshopper is chosen, for the great strength, that he may bring.
So just before the twilight flow, in the sunset’s afterglow,
sit quietly in the meadow try, mind you, keep a watchful eye,
and you may hear the faeries sing, as they're dancing in a ring

Sartor 7-24-2007

Jer4clarity

Muse-ache

As a silent symphony drifts away without destiny,
One drop of sweet infamy dabs the last page with brevity.
Her Siren voice, hushed by the fate of enchanted encounters,
Clings like the lingering whispers of faint and long lost lovers,
Glows within the embers of each verse of poetry and prose
'Til the night is pregnant with the muse-ache of intuitive woes
By a poet who fades from the hum of her waning echoes
There’s no hope of remedy. The bard flirts with insanity.
Un-captured murmurs flit away from poetic elixirs
The ink in the well cannot tell, only the missing muse knows.

© July 24, 2007 Jerry P. Quinn

Kit Carson

Big bird farm, trapped in its concrete cage, the birds all have flown
emptiness framed by spark of wielding torches, many men have known
your graceful way of gliding through the worst of times and the best
so we restored you once again my dear, not yet time to rest
in midst of war, in the Gulf Of Tonkin. a mistake was made
conflagration soon ensued and brave men saved you, but it’s said
even braver men died in their attempt and now I’m afraid
men without souls, men who never walked your decks, men never shown
the beauty of your regal glory as sun sinks in the west
they aim to sink you now, please…to turn the guns for one last raid
~
~
Mjcarson
7-24-2007
~
~
A Cinq Trois Deca La Rhyme

Checkmate

nomadicrhymer

Here is my submission, if it isn't too late.

NARROW ESCAPE

We fled swiftly into the night, wearing nothing but our screams
Janjahweed, armed with killer instincts, were everywhere it seemed
My mother naked to her waist, grabbed my hand and held me tight
She muttered “God help us”, “God help us all”, as we fled in fright
I heard the guns, spitting their death wish, at all who didn’t escape
Metallic bullet clones found their prey, those who didn’t die got raped
Among the snakes and dark forest, we fled as Mother Earth baked
At times we hid in deep gullies, silent as child killers passed
Eyes blankly flat, reality metastasized into hell
They were no more as children, playing in their mothers’ kitchen.


Nomadicrhymer
© 8-08-07

Moonchild