Cadelle Challenge

[SmilingLez]

Poets have always invented new stanzaic forms, some serious, some absurd; so I decided to add mine to the pile. I’m calling it the Cadelle.

Each stanza begins with an anchor word or phrase and ends with another. A designated word or phrase must reappear at least once every three lines. Easy peasy. Reality is optional.

Feel free to add your Cadelle.

Below is my first.


The Narcissina

Me.

I posted a comment about kindness.
Three minutes later I checked for applause.
Nobody reacted, so obviously the internet was broken.
Also me.

Me.

I rescued a conversation by explaining myself.
Someone mentioned their surgery.
I bravely redirected the topic to my gym routine.
Also me.

Me.

Someone shared a harmless fact.
I corrected it before anyone could enjoy it.
The point wasn't accuracy.
The point was being the smartest person in the room.
Also me.

Me.

My coffee was average.
I described it online as a life-changing experience.
Seven strangers scrolled past.
I called them jealous.
Also me.

Me.

Scientists discovered a new galaxy.
I wondered what it thought of my profile picture.
The galaxy declined to comment.
Clearly it was intimidated.
Also me.

 

[Angeline]

Jazz
is flourishing on 127th Street
outside a brownstone,
drummers congregate three steps up,
leaning, laughing and on the curb
Bill Basie sits, one of a row
of grinning kids joyful on an August day.

Jazz
pours from the stage at Freebody Park
in 1957 the crowd jumping their blues
away. Prez is reunited with the Count
and Mister 5 By 5 raises the sky,
a roof blown wide enough for the rhythm
section to rush through like a locomotive.

Jazz
is Monk shining light in sharp corners,
geometric turns, flatted fifths and no
bad notes, Eric Dolphy fluting an abstract
truth, Morgan soaring in pure tones
then falling like Icarus, all of it ringing
truth without words flowing into me like

Jazz.