Lauren? Help!

[BooMerengue]

Can you make us another Glosa Challenge? I had fun with the last one and there hasn't been a good form style challenge in quite awhile.

I'm feeling the need...

Thanks!!

 

[Angeline]

The Glosa is a Spanish form also known as mote or retruécano, closely related to the cantiga In its strict form it is a poem consisting of a line or a short stanza called cabeza (or texto), stating the theme of the poem and followed by one stanza for each line of the cabeza explaining or glossing that line and often adding a refrain as the last line.

The cabeza may be any length or rhyme scheme and the poet is free to choose any other form.

Loosely the glosa is any poem expanding in the theme presented at the opening stanza and usually repeating one or more of the lines of that stanza.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The last glosa challenge involved different poets each writing a stanza, so it was a group effort or you can do one on your own. If you do it as a group, the longer the stanza that is glossed, the more poets you can have participate.

Here's that effort:

The Eagle: Glosa
by The Poets ©

The Poets:
Lauren.Hynde, WickedEve, JUDO, Cordelia, silken_dreammaid, lickmyboot

Mote

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

"The Eagle"
Alfred Lord Tennyson, 1809-1892

Glosa

He stands alone, dark and upright;
in his chest, promise unbound,
from his lips no smile, no sound;
only the mute clandestine rite
of holding firm against the ground.
He reads the sand of future strands;
he clasps the crag with crooked hands.

He eyes details in grains shifting,
though sea rakes smooth the sanded sheet,
dissolving words as waves retreat.
What will be is seaward drifting,
but he knows the tides will complete
the answers washed away from sands,
close to the Sun in lonely lands.

Above sea, he surveys his realm
of targets, currents, rocks, and waves:
the distant master knows his slaves.
Bespoke o'er eons to guide this helm,
his gold eyes see those quickened knaves.
Goal locked and ready, he make his plans,
ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

He sees the crags, like giants, stand
against the waves' relentless moan.
Undoubtful, he becomes as stone
and deems the world at his command.
The rocks become his earthly throne,
the cliffs, terrestrial castle walls:
as wrinkled sea beneath him crawls.

Beyond the horizon, he seeks,
from his granitic parapet,
voices of those who'll not forget
borne aloft in the winding shrieks.
Too high to succumb to regret,
too proud to break his silent pall,
he watches from his mountain walls.

He breathes in deep the blackened skies.
A final taste: wind's sighing mock.
All too aware, Death's measured clock.
Eyes opened wide, he picks his prize.
Above the clash of sea upon rock
the time has come, it's Blood who calls
and like a thunderbolt he falls.

and here's another example--one I wrote about a year ago.


Glosa on Coole Park

But now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
~ William Butler Yeats, The Wild Swans at Coole

But now they drift on the still water
Where once they rushed in tides,
Silenced by a distant daughter,
Lake’s mistress who abides

Mysterious, beautiful,
Laurel crown and empty hands.
Is this prison? Was she dutiful,
Married to the stands

Among what rushes they will build
Their nests, companionable in pairs,
While she alone and wise, stilled
By moon ennui declares

By what lake’s edge or pool
She might have made her home,
Or known how gentler rule
Might keep her safe as starlight’s dome

Delights men’s eyes, When I awake some day
From ancient dreams to find that dawn
Reveals a feather, will I shake away
Sleep from my limbs, and with a yawn

Exhale memories, unfold these wings
To flight, release hope to another day
And soar skyward as hours cling
To find they have flown away?

 

[WickedEve]

I forgot all about the glosa we did. I do remember it being a bit difficult and Lauren having to heavily edit my words. lol

 

[BooMerengue]

I thought we had done a Glosa Challenge. Maybe it was one of the Gunfights? I can't find mine, but I know I did one...

We could do another...

Just need the Mote and the Guidelines, right?

Does what we write in a Glosa have to relate to what the original author was talking about?

 

[Angeline]

I thought we had done a Glosa Challenge. Maybe it was one of the Gunfights? I can't find mine, but I know I did one...

We could do another...

Just need the Mote and the Guidelines, right?

Does what we write in a Glosa have to relate to what the original author was talking about?

Each stanza should explore the line it uses from the mote. If you look at my two examples, you can see how that works. The trick though is tying the whole poem together.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Oh goodie. I'll set something up. Angeline did a pretty good job at explaining it, though.

 

[BooMerengue]

Can't wait! I'll probably fail gloriously, but this is my favorite kind of Challenge!

Thankee, Lauren!!

 

[wildsweetone]

Oh now this is a really scary one for me, but I'll give it a go.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

I'm looking for a short poem that would make an interesting motte, and once I find it, I'll post the challenge on a new thread, possibly later today.

 

[BooMerengue]

I'm looking for a short poem that would make an interesting motte, and once I find it, I'll post the challenge on a new thread, possibly later today.

waiting...



waiting....



zzzZZZZzzzzzzzzzz....

 

[Syndra Lynn]

Whining

this sounds toooooo haarrd.

couldn't we just do Bob again?

Syn

 

[BooMerengue]

this sounds toooooo haarrd.

couldn't we just do Bob again?

Syn

Oh, no, Synny! You'll like this! To me it's what real poetry is. Finding a way to say what you want while constrained by a set of rules is much more of a challenge than a free verse piece. You'll see, babe! It's not too bad.

BTW. I loved your audio poem... I voted but I haven't had time to write back. My computer time is being curtailed til my computer gets here.

 

[Syndra Lynn]

Oh, no, Synny! You'll like this! To me it's what real poetry is. Finding a way to say what you want while constrained by a set of rules is much more of a challenge than a free verse piece. You'll see, babe! It's not too bad.

BTW. I loved your audio poem... I voted but I haven't had time to write back. My computer time is being curtailed til my computer gets here.

I spose.

shuffles feet and digs toe into ground

But I'd rather do Bob. He's a form too ya know!

Syn

 

[wildsweetone]

Well I was going to have a go but it's not free form from what I can understand, so I'll give this one a miss.

 

[BooMerengue]

WSO!!

Oh, noooo you don't! You can't back off that easy. It's not that hard! I can't believe you'll holler uncle so quick! Go read the Rubaiyat- pick a verse that appeals to you, and give it a shot. The rhyming part isn't that hard... each stanza has a line from the quatrain you choose, so theres half the rhyme right off the bat. Write your lines and then when its done go back and try to make each line iambic pentameter. You can do it! I promise!

And Lauren did say we could workshop them... that means if you need help there will be plenty of it here for you.

So now whats your excuse? Huh?

 

[wildsweetone]

Hell woman you scared me to death then! lolol

I'm blushing so bad! *completely mortified*

I hate form and rules and stuff and *mumble mumble grumble grumble*

 

[BooMerengue]

Hell woman you scared me to death then! lolol

I'm blushing so bad! *completely mortified*

I hate form and rules and stuff and *mumble mumble grumble grumble*

*falling over laughin at WSO!

Go read your mail, sweety!

 

[wildsweetone]

Mail? Or did you mean Male?

 

[BooMerengue]

Mail? Or did you mean Male?

Oh, well! If you have a Male handy you might oughtta do something with it, but if not try your Mail! It'll surely be more beneficial! LOL

 

[wildsweetone]

If you sent me one I haven't got him, er it, yet.

Where'd you send it?

 

[BooMerengue]

If you sent me one I haven't got him, er it, yet.

Where'd you send it?

Well, fuck! I sent it to someone else who is probably wondering 'what the fuck is Boo on!?!'

Wait... it's on the way!

*smackin head... "Ya dumbass blonde!! sheeeeesh!"

 

[BooMerengue]

W S O​

*cheesy grin!

ya got mail now, baby!!

Did I scare you again?

roflmao

 

[wildsweetone]

You'll keep.

 

[wildsweetone]

WSO!!

Oh, noooo you don't! You can't back off that easy. It's not that hard! I can't believe you'll holler uncle so quick! Go read the Rubaiyat- pick a verse that appeals to you, and give it a shot. The rhyming part isn't that hard... each stanza has a line from the quatrain you choose, so theres half the rhyme right off the bat. Write your lines and then when its done go back and try to make each line iambic pentameter. You can do it! I promise!

And Lauren did say we could workshop them... that means if you need help there will be plenty of it here for you.

So now whats your excuse? Huh?

I just have four things to say to you Boo.

1. Half the rhyme is not done off the bat because the lines with the existing Mote are the lines that DON'T have the rhyme ending. And Murphy's Law says that because I can see those lines, they are the ones that I want to rhyme.

2. How can I write something in a lingo that I will need 20 years to learn? The dude who wrote this thing wrote it before he died in 1122 for goodness sake.

3. In order to figure out what this 'original' Rubaiyat meant, I did a little research (which is always a dangerous thing for me) and discovered that we might be working on something completely different to the actual meaning that Omar Khayyam intended.

and
4. Do you know that NOTHING rhymes with orange?

 

[BooMerengue]

I just have four things to say to you Boo.

1. Half the rhyme is not done off the bat because the lines with the existing Mote are the lines that DON'T have the rhyme ending. And Murphy's Law says that because I can see those lines, they are the ones that I want to rhyme.

2. How can I write something in a lingo that I will need 20 years to learn? The dude who wrote this thing wrote it before he died in 1122 for goodness sake.

3. In order to figure out what this 'original' Rubaiyat meant, I did a little research (which is always a dangerous thing for me) and discovered that we might be working on something completely different to the actual meaning that Omar Khayyam intended.

and
4. Do you know that NOTHING rhymes with orange?

Whoa! You're on a mission, huh? LOL

YOU CAN DO THIS! QUIT WHINING!

Why do you have to rhyme orange?

(playing the dim bulb...lol)