Sounds of the City
I sleep in silence that creaks and moans
from upstairs neighbors' ringing telephones
and outside I hear the day grow
as garbage trucks begin to roll
and the trains quaking trussels groan.
Sleep will escape since I do not own
earplugs or CDs where wilderness roams.
I do not live where the west winds blow,
I sleep in silence.
Outside, lost lovers try to atone
for past sins and the stench of cologne.
Yet, in my dreams, no noise below,
the dirt street painted white with snow.
Here I find peace of my own,
I sleep in silence.
Rheanna Pulley
BIO: Rheanna Pulley is currently a English Major with Creative Writing Concentration at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale, Illinois.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Back from the Dead Again!!! Rondeaus Don't Die; They Multiply!
Dear Readers:
Another year, another re-launch for the Rondeau Roundup Blog! Glad to be back for Spring 2012!
Very soon, I will be posting the results of the English 352: Forms of Poetry Rondeau Challenge. Every time I teach a forms of poetry class, I challenge my students to write and perform a rondeau in front of the class. This year's winners will be posted here on the blog!
Until then, here's a shameless (or shameful, depending on your point of view) rondeau modeled off of Paul Laurence Dunbar's famous rondeau "We Wear the Mask," with a nod to that great contemporary poet, Chris Rock:
Clear Heels: A Rondeau
We wear the heels that hurt our feet,
spray on perfume that’s extra sweet,
buy clothes that make the boys all stare—
rock booty shorts, and dye our hair,
all of our gear low, tight, and neat.
Attracting men? We can’t be beat;
all ugly girls we will defeat.
We never said that life was fair.
We wear the shoes
that make your boyfriends want to cheat
on you. Be careful we don’t meet
or else they’ll fall in love. We swear
we’ll have them drooling, if you dare.
God made us fly, so cute, petite.
We wear the shoes.
Allison Joseph
Another year, another re-launch for the Rondeau Roundup Blog! Glad to be back for Spring 2012!
Very soon, I will be posting the results of the English 352: Forms of Poetry Rondeau Challenge. Every time I teach a forms of poetry class, I challenge my students to write and perform a rondeau in front of the class. This year's winners will be posted here on the blog!
Until then, here's a shameless (or shameful, depending on your point of view) rondeau modeled off of Paul Laurence Dunbar's famous rondeau "We Wear the Mask," with a nod to that great contemporary poet, Chris Rock:
Clear Heels: A Rondeau
We wear the heels that hurt our feet,
spray on perfume that’s extra sweet,
buy clothes that make the boys all stare—
rock booty shorts, and dye our hair,
all of our gear low, tight, and neat.
Attracting men? We can’t be beat;
all ugly girls we will defeat.
We never said that life was fair.
We wear the shoes
that make your boyfriends want to cheat
on you. Be careful we don’t meet
or else they’ll fall in love. We swear
we’ll have them drooling, if you dare.
God made us fly, so cute, petite.
We wear the shoes.
Allison Joseph
Friday, June 10, 2011
West Chester Spotlight: Chris Bullard
The following rondeau is by Chris Bullard, who is in my "Rondeaus, Rondels, and Ballades" workshop at the West Chester Poetry Conference:
Inter regnum
The grass is green, its vigor so intense
And overwhelming that we blink against
That forces. Spring occurs, again. We have come
With eyes dimmed by the indoor tedium
And with ears muffled by the long silence,
But with hope we might receive recompense
From months of snow, in the benevolence
Of warm weather. Instead we shiver from
The grass so green.
So blessings may conceal old punishments
And growth give color to a new absence.
We're the subjects of an icy kingdom
Abating now, in this inter regnum,
To show that on the graves of our parents
The grass is green.
Bio: Chris Bullard is an administrative law judge from Collingswood, New Jersey.
Inter regnum
The grass is green, its vigor so intense
And overwhelming that we blink against
That forces. Spring occurs, again. We have come
With eyes dimmed by the indoor tedium
And with ears muffled by the long silence,
But with hope we might receive recompense
From months of snow, in the benevolence
Of warm weather. Instead we shiver from
The grass so green.
So blessings may conceal old punishments
And growth give color to a new absence.
We're the subjects of an icy kingdom
Abating now, in this inter regnum,
To show that on the graves of our parents
The grass is green.
Bio: Chris Bullard is an administrative law judge from Collingswood, New Jersey.
Back from the Dead: the Rondeau Roundup!
Dear Readers:
The Rondeau Roundup is back!
I'm currently at the West Chester Poetry Conference on Form and Narrative, teaching a workshop on "Rondeaus, Rondels, and Ballades." It's an opportune time to declare this blog/magazine functional again!
I'll be posting poems from the Workshop and catching up on the mail that has been sent to this blog's e-mail account.
I apologize for the long delay--the roundup fell by wayside, but with the help of my West Chester workshop, I hope to post new examples of the form(s) this blog is dedicated to!
Blessings,
Allison Joseph, Rondeau Mistress
The Rondeau Roundup is back!
I'm currently at the West Chester Poetry Conference on Form and Narrative, teaching a workshop on "Rondeaus, Rondels, and Ballades." It's an opportune time to declare this blog/magazine functional again!
I'll be posting poems from the Workshop and catching up on the mail that has been sent to this blog's e-mail account.
I apologize for the long delay--the roundup fell by wayside, but with the help of my West Chester workshop, I hope to post new examples of the form(s) this blog is dedicated to!
Blessings,
Allison Joseph, Rondeau Mistress
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Relaunch: The Rondeau Roundup's Variations on a Theme from Shakespeare Contest
The Rondeau Roundup is back! Apologies for the delay in, well, everything!
The Paul Laurence Dunbar Award did not yield enough entries to declare a winner, so I've asked the entrants to allow me to post all the poems that were entered. I will relaunch this contest in the future, but details of our current contest are below:
"Variations on a Theme from Shakespeare" Rondeau Contest: No Entry Fee!
The Rondeau Roundup blog is having a contest for the best rondeau inspired by the works of William Shakespeare!
Deadline: submitted by October 2, 2010.
Contest Rules:
Only one rondeau may be submitted per person. No entry fee. Top five rondeaus will be published on the blog (therondeauroundup.blogspot.com). The first place rondeau will also receive a $50 gift card from Barnes and Noble.
For this contest, I'm looking for rondeaus that follow the standard definition, as given on poets.org
"The rondeau’s form is not difficult to recognize: as it is known and practiced today, it is composed of fifteen lines, eight to ten syllables each, divided stanzaically into a quintet, a quatrain, and a sestet. The rentrement consists of the first few words or the entire first line of the first stanza, and it recurs as the last line of both the second and third stanzas. Two rhymes guide the music of the rondeau, whose rhyme scheme is as follows (R representing the refrain): aabba aabR aabbaR."
Examples of the form: "In Flanders Fields" by John McCrae, "We Wear the Mask" by Paul Laurence Dunbar.
No other poetic form will be accepted for this contest. Non-rhyming rondeaus can be entered, but the blog moderator's preference is for rhymed and metered rondeaus.
To enter, send a single rondeau inspired by the works of William Shakespeare to
rondeauroundup(at)gmail.com (replace (at) with @) by October 2, 2010.
Winners will be announced on the Rondeau Roundup Blog on October 15, 2010.
The Paul Laurence Dunbar Award did not yield enough entries to declare a winner, so I've asked the entrants to allow me to post all the poems that were entered. I will relaunch this contest in the future, but details of our current contest are below:
"Variations on a Theme from Shakespeare" Rondeau Contest: No Entry Fee!
The Rondeau Roundup blog is having a contest for the best rondeau inspired by the works of William Shakespeare!
Deadline: submitted by October 2, 2010.
Contest Rules:
Only one rondeau may be submitted per person. No entry fee. Top five rondeaus will be published on the blog (therondeauroundup.blogspot.com). The first place rondeau will also receive a $50 gift card from Barnes and Noble.
For this contest, I'm looking for rondeaus that follow the standard definition, as given on poets.org
"The rondeau’s form is not difficult to recognize: as it is known and practiced today, it is composed of fifteen lines, eight to ten syllables each, divided stanzaically into a quintet, a quatrain, and a sestet. The rentrement consists of the first few words or the entire first line of the first stanza, and it recurs as the last line of both the second and third stanzas. Two rhymes guide the music of the rondeau, whose rhyme scheme is as follows (R representing the refrain): aabba aabR aabbaR."
Examples of the form: "In Flanders Fields" by John McCrae, "We Wear the Mask" by Paul Laurence Dunbar.
No other poetic form will be accepted for this contest. Non-rhyming rondeaus can be entered, but the blog moderator's preference is for rhymed and metered rondeaus.
To enter, send a single rondeau inspired by the works of William Shakespeare to
rondeauroundup(at)gmail.com (replace (at) with @) by October 2, 2010.
Winners will be announced on the Rondeau Roundup Blog on October 15, 2010.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Triolet Challenge: More than Honorable Mentions
The Triolet Challenge yielded some wonderful More Than Honorable Mention-winning poems. Enjoy!
High Road to Taos
A flare of sumac, rush of red,
a gleam of yellow, aspen’s gold,
an orange glow: fall leaves are shed.
A flare of sumac, rush of red—
the colors live, though leaves are dead.
Confetti greets the spell of cold:
a flare of sumac, rush of red,
a gleam of yellow, aspen’s gold.
Scott Wiggerman
Bio: Scott Wiggerman is the author of two books of poetry, Vegetables and Other Relationships and Presence, forthcoming from Pecan Grove Press this year. A frequent workshop instructor, he is also an editor for Dos Gatos Press, publisher of the annual Texas Poetry Calendar, now in its thirteenth year.
The City
Trash accrues like interest on a debt
no one remembers ever was incurred.
A body knifed, a splayed-out marionette—
trash accrues like interest on a debt.
A stranger's face is easy to forget:
witnesses disperse without a word.
Trash accrues like interest on a debt
no one remembers. When was it incurred?
José Edmundo Ocampo Reyes
Bio: José Edmundo Ocampo Reyes was born and raised in the Philippines, and worked in finance for five years before coming to the United States to study poetry at Columbia University. His poems have appeared in such journals as American Literary Review, Crab Orchard Review, Hudson Review, Rattle, and Pleiades, and have been anthologized in Crowns and Oranges: Works by Young Philippine Poets.
Late November
As sky unfolds its winter shawl
the land collects its sprawling lace
beneath pale pines. The clouds confess
as sky unfolds its winter shawl
around shale shoulders. Hawthorns ice.
Crows take flight and caterwaul
as sky unfolds its winter shawl.
The land collects its sprawling lace.
Janann Dawkins
Bio: Janann Dawkins's work has been featured recently or is upcoming in Two Review, decomP, Poesia, Ouroboros Review, Suss, and Existere, among others. Her chapbook Micropleasure was published by Leadfoot Press in 2008. She resides in Ann Arbor, Michigan, where she assists with editing the eclectic literary journal Third Wednesday.
Film Noir at the Courthouse Door
We could be done with all of this.
If only you would say the word,
I'd go from Mrs. to a Miss.
We could be done with all of this
and yet...I still await your kiss.
Although at this point it may sound absurd,
we could be done with all of this,
If only you would say the word.
Jennifer Schomburg Kanke
Bio: Jennifer Schomburg Kanke serves as an Academic and Pre-Law Advisor at Ohio University in Athens, Ohio.
Drizzles and Downpours
In this rainy weather, I want to pull inside
to explore an inner terrain, so far, unknown,
to paddle in mist, in fog, a primeval ride.
In this dreary weather, I want to pull inside
to be alone and quiet, a solitude I can abide
in comfort. Within, my life my own
in this dreary weather. I want to pull inside
to explore. An inner terrain? So far— unknown.
Joan Mazza
Bio: Joan Mazza has worked as a psychotherapist, certified sex therapist, writing coach and seminar leader. Author of six books, including Dreaming Your Real Self(Perigee/Penguin 1998), she has published work in Potomac Review, Möbius, Permafrost, Writer's Digest Magazine, Playgirl, The Writer, and Writer's Journal. She’s now a poet in rural Virginia. website: www.JoanMazza.com
Fear Triolet
What were you scared of when you were young?
Of boys on bikes, strange men in cars,
the dark, the bomb, an iron lung?
What were you scared of when you were young?
The mumps, the measles, white spots on your tongue,
of dogs that bark or green men from Mars?
What were you scared of when you were young?
Of boys on bikes. Strange men in cars.
Sarah Freligh
Bio: Sarah Freligh's poetry and fiction have been widely published in literary journals including The Comstock Review, Iowa Woman, Painted Bride Quarterly, Third Coast, Elysian Fields Quarterly and Tar River Poetry. Her book of poems, Sort of Gone, was published in February 2008 by Turning Point Books.
Beachcomber
Blue stone, violet spiral shell,
Souvenirs of summer in my hand,
Salt relics of our last farewell.
Blue stone, violet spiral shell,
Sea-tumbled fragments cast a spell--
Brown glass a tiger’s eye in sand.
Blue stone, violet spiral shell,
Souvenirs of summer in my hand.
Charlotte Mandel
Bio: Charlotte Mandel's seventh book of poetry ROCK VEIN SKY (Midmarch Arts Press) was listed as a Best Poetry Book Read for Fall 2008 by Monserrat Review. Previous titles include two poem-novellas of feminist biblical revision, The Life of Mary, and The Marriages of Jacob. She recently retired from teaching poetry writing for several years at Barnard College Center for Research on Women.
Walking Home
Your smallest smile belongs to me
as day begins to rightly fade,
for bluest nights are jubilee.
Your smallest smile belongs to me;
the glint of teeth is but a plea.
Your eyes are quick. Don’t be afraid.
Your smallest smile belongs to me
as day begins to rightly fade.
Rachel Lim
BIo: Rachel Lim is an undergraduate studying English and East Asian Studies at the University of Virginia.
High Road to Taos
A flare of sumac, rush of red,
a gleam of yellow, aspen’s gold,
an orange glow: fall leaves are shed.
A flare of sumac, rush of red—
the colors live, though leaves are dead.
Confetti greets the spell of cold:
a flare of sumac, rush of red,
a gleam of yellow, aspen’s gold.
Scott Wiggerman
Bio: Scott Wiggerman is the author of two books of poetry, Vegetables and Other Relationships and Presence, forthcoming from Pecan Grove Press this year. A frequent workshop instructor, he is also an editor for Dos Gatos Press, publisher of the annual Texas Poetry Calendar, now in its thirteenth year.
The City
Trash accrues like interest on a debt
no one remembers ever was incurred.
A body knifed, a splayed-out marionette—
trash accrues like interest on a debt.
A stranger's face is easy to forget:
witnesses disperse without a word.
Trash accrues like interest on a debt
no one remembers. When was it incurred?
José Edmundo Ocampo Reyes
Bio: José Edmundo Ocampo Reyes was born and raised in the Philippines, and worked in finance for five years before coming to the United States to study poetry at Columbia University. His poems have appeared in such journals as American Literary Review, Crab Orchard Review, Hudson Review, Rattle, and Pleiades, and have been anthologized in Crowns and Oranges: Works by Young Philippine Poets.
Late November
As sky unfolds its winter shawl
the land collects its sprawling lace
beneath pale pines. The clouds confess
as sky unfolds its winter shawl
around shale shoulders. Hawthorns ice.
Crows take flight and caterwaul
as sky unfolds its winter shawl.
The land collects its sprawling lace.
Janann Dawkins
Bio: Janann Dawkins's work has been featured recently or is upcoming in Two Review, decomP, Poesia, Ouroboros Review, Suss, and Existere, among others. Her chapbook Micropleasure was published by Leadfoot Press in 2008. She resides in Ann Arbor, Michigan, where she assists with editing the eclectic literary journal Third Wednesday.
Film Noir at the Courthouse Door
We could be done with all of this.
If only you would say the word,
I'd go from Mrs. to a Miss.
We could be done with all of this
and yet...I still await your kiss.
Although at this point it may sound absurd,
we could be done with all of this,
If only you would say the word.
Jennifer Schomburg Kanke
Bio: Jennifer Schomburg Kanke serves as an Academic and Pre-Law Advisor at Ohio University in Athens, Ohio.
Drizzles and Downpours
In this rainy weather, I want to pull inside
to explore an inner terrain, so far, unknown,
to paddle in mist, in fog, a primeval ride.
In this dreary weather, I want to pull inside
to be alone and quiet, a solitude I can abide
in comfort. Within, my life my own
in this dreary weather. I want to pull inside
to explore. An inner terrain? So far— unknown.
Joan Mazza
Bio: Joan Mazza has worked as a psychotherapist, certified sex therapist, writing coach and seminar leader. Author of six books, including Dreaming Your Real Self(Perigee/Penguin 1998), she has published work in Potomac Review, Möbius, Permafrost, Writer's Digest Magazine, Playgirl, The Writer, and Writer's Journal. She’s now a poet in rural Virginia. website: www.JoanMazza.com
Fear Triolet
What were you scared of when you were young?
Of boys on bikes, strange men in cars,
the dark, the bomb, an iron lung?
What were you scared of when you were young?
The mumps, the measles, white spots on your tongue,
of dogs that bark or green men from Mars?
What were you scared of when you were young?
Of boys on bikes. Strange men in cars.
Sarah Freligh
Bio: Sarah Freligh's poetry and fiction have been widely published in literary journals including The Comstock Review, Iowa Woman, Painted Bride Quarterly, Third Coast, Elysian Fields Quarterly and Tar River Poetry. Her book of poems, Sort of Gone, was published in February 2008 by Turning Point Books.
Beachcomber
Blue stone, violet spiral shell,
Souvenirs of summer in my hand,
Salt relics of our last farewell.
Blue stone, violet spiral shell,
Sea-tumbled fragments cast a spell--
Brown glass a tiger’s eye in sand.
Blue stone, violet spiral shell,
Souvenirs of summer in my hand.
Charlotte Mandel
Bio: Charlotte Mandel's seventh book of poetry ROCK VEIN SKY (Midmarch Arts Press) was listed as a Best Poetry Book Read for Fall 2008 by Monserrat Review. Previous titles include two poem-novellas of feminist biblical revision, The Life of Mary, and The Marriages of Jacob. She recently retired from teaching poetry writing for several years at Barnard College Center for Research on Women.
Walking Home
Your smallest smile belongs to me
as day begins to rightly fade,
for bluest nights are jubilee.
Your smallest smile belongs to me;
the glint of teeth is but a plea.
Your eyes are quick. Don’t be afraid.
Your smallest smile belongs to me
as day begins to rightly fade.
Rachel Lim
BIo: Rachel Lim is an undergraduate studying English and East Asian Studies at the University of Virginia.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Triolet Challenge Winner: Rita Mae Reese
Terrible Holy Joy: Reading the Norton Anthology of Poetry in Bed
We take our poetry lying down
And smuggle old words into our sleep.
As we trudge through Pope to get to Brown
We take our poetry lying down.
We take the old women and the boys that drown
And by morning lose every line but keep
“Their terrible holy joy.” We take our poetry lying down,
And smuggle old worlds into our sleep.
Rita Mae Reese
Bio Note:
Rita Mae Reese's poems have appeared in New England Review, Southern Review and The Nation, among other places. She teaches writing in UW-Madison's Continuing Studies program and is currently working on a book of poems about Flannery O'Connor.
We take our poetry lying down
And smuggle old words into our sleep.
As we trudge through Pope to get to Brown
We take our poetry lying down.
We take the old women and the boys that drown
And by morning lose every line but keep
“Their terrible holy joy.” We take our poetry lying down,
And smuggle old worlds into our sleep.
Rita Mae Reese
Bio Note:
Rita Mae Reese's poems have appeared in New England Review, Southern Review and The Nation, among other places. She teaches writing in UW-Madison's Continuing Studies program and is currently working on a book of poems about Flannery O'Connor.
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