My Baby!!!

I love it... my paycheck doesn't... but I do! :D

The Pantoum

It originated in Malaysia, sometime in the 15th century, as a short folk poem that was typically sung or recited. As repeated in history on more than one ocassion, Western writers eventually got a hold of the distinct form of poetry and made changes to fit culture, such as the inessential use of rhyming and number of quatrains. However, its raw form stays the same today - a rare and beautiful structure of rhyming stanzas that connect harmoniously through repetition. It looks something like this:

-Lines are grouped into any number of quatrains (4 line stanzas).
-The final line of the last stanza must be the same as the first.
-Lines may be of any length.
-The pantoum says everything twice.
-For all quatrains except the first, the first line of the current quatrain repeats the second line in the preceeding quatrain; the third line of the current quatrain repeats the fourth line of the preceeding quatrain.
-In addition, for the final quatrain, its second line repeats the (so-far unrepeated) third line in the first quatrain; its last line repeats the (so-far unrepeated) first line of the first quatrain.

Really confusing.

It is traditionally composed in this form:

First Stanza:
Line 1 = A
Line 2 = B
Line 3 = C
Line 4 = D
Second Stanza:
Line 1 = B
Line 2 = E
Line 3 = D
Line 4 = F
Third Stanza:
Line 1 = E
Line 2 = C
Line 3 = F
Line 4 = A

My attempt a couple years ago... took me like a week ;) I'd rather read than write these ones.

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.Letters.

He was never meant to fall in love
with the wax sealed and mail-tired white that enveloped
unlined pages of hurried and accidental promises
when they were introduced- faceless and unfamiliar

Holding the wax broken and mail-tired white that enveloped
her long ascending desperate rhymes written in red
he laughed when they were courting faceless and unfamiliar
trying not to become one like a prisoner in an open cell

But her long ascending desperate rhymes written in red
became to him a crimson blur behind doubtful eyes
as he tried not to become one like a prisoner in an open cell
for he was never meant to fall in love.

_____

Ok, so that poem I had to write for class. One of my classmates... a 77 year old woman... totally out did me. ;) It's awesome.. check it out:

_____

.What Joy!. -Adrian Brockman

It was a hot summer day; the leaves still like decor.
Views of the Cityscape were distorted from waves of heat.
Beads of perspiration dripped from every pore.
Black, white, red and yellow, young and old sought relief.

Views of the Cityscape were distorted from waves of heat.
Graceful fountains spouted to liberate.
Black, white, red and yellow, young and old sought relief.
Strangers brought picnics and music to celebrate.

Graceful fountains spouted to liberate.
Inviting, cool, water patterns emerged as art.
Strangers brought picnics and music to celebrate.
They splash, scream, laugh, join hands and hearts.

Inviting cool water patterns emerged as art.
Strangers become friends, and enjoy, enjoy, enjoy.
They splash, scream , laugh, join hands and hearts.
A chance encounter! What beauty! What joy!

Strangers become friends, and enjoy, enjoy, enjoy.
Beads of perspiration no longer drip from every pore.
A chance encounter! What beauty! What joy!
It was a hot summer day; the leaves were still like decor.

_____

Maui 2007 (scroll)

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