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 stanza. 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.

 

[Remec]

Hanging On

Faith

Not something I can say I
am particularly versed in or
even have other than knowing things
will be well;

Faith

Was pretty much drilled into me
back when I was taking CCD and
preparing myself to be confirmed in
the belief I would be well;

Faith

Feels less like grasping at straws
or swaying on my last thread like
I was my own Damoclean sword,
marking everything to be well;

Faith

The comfort of knowing something is
larger than myself, even if I know not
what it is--or anything beyond the basic
all manner of things shall be well.

 

[Remec]

Killing It


Time

marches on, through weather fair and foul,
without hesitation or second guessing;
tick tock

Time

heals, eventually, although sutures,
antibiotics, and repeated doses of peroxide and iodine help;
tick tock

Time

waits for no one, you have to hurry yourself along,
else it will leave you languishing behind;
tick tock

Time

is a thief, no matter if you're working, playing,
loving, laughing, eating, sleeping...every second spent is gone;
tick tock.

 

[SapioSexual9]

My hair display
My hair a braided river spreads
my hair silk over our pillow slips
my hair nut colored curls -tumble undone
my hair head held back waterfalls off our bed
my hair disappears where, head down, there is only your hair.

 

[Dave1010101]

Her World

Behind a closed door.

I heard Her voice roar
My heart comes alive
She’s sharp, 35
She won’t give a toss
My boss is the Boss

Behind a closed door.

My eyes on the floor
Inside now her tower
Her seat of raw power
Her lips wear a gloss
My boss is the Boss

Behind a closed door.

Her voice soft but cross
My hand quivers, shakes
Her fingers like snakes
As they grasp my red locks
My boss is the Boss

Behind a closed door.

She points to the floor
“Kneel, Alice, there”
In front of Her chair
Rug green as moss
My boss is the Boss

Behind a closed door.

Her desk foot, a claw
Legs opening now
Skirt raising, and brow
Her castle, her schloss
My boss is the Boss

Behind a closed door.

I’m 25 no more
It’s clear now Her wish
Her centre, my kiss
My innocence, lost
My boss is the Boss