Best Paradelle Poems
Your love song lapsed into ancient French that April day.
I only understood the words of spring and heartsore
lapsed. Only love and heartsore, I understood your ancient
words of the spring-day song into that French April.
You fabricate my pauses into repetition, silence speaks
of ages strung to rhyme in love’s difficult service
you strung into pauses in service to ages. Fabricate of
love’s repetition, rhyme speaks my difficult silence.
We practice tedium of vows till language breaks apart.
As if art should aim at science, rigorous, quantitative,
rigorous language breaks tedium. Science vows a part of
quantitative practice till we should aim “as if” at art.
Till we lapsed into language. As your ancient ages only
fabricate quantitative French strung to that difficult
practice, science speaks of tedium and understood rhyme.
The spring in service of love’s rigorous vows. April
pauses, heartsore. You and I, apart. If love should aim
my words at day, repetition breaks into silence of song.
~
Among watching forbidden archangels saunter sullen paths
I reflect mandragoras through evanescent gleams of orrery elegies,
whirling into significant distraught dizain stanzas of my obsidian paint
in halcyon hopes my expressive ekphrasis will bloom alongside aureate tulips.
Under opal moons shading dozens of writhing languid lavenders of mauve,
a hushing zephyr cuddles lost villanelle verses of my nocturne lilt heart
shaping obsidian thorns of withering torment into eloquent paradelles
gifting me picturesque promises of prospering ovary triumph over obsidian odes.
O, how I dream vermillion serenade reveries of idyllic illusions
whilst pouring out serpentine verses in poise patterns of bewitching ballads,
perhaps yearning celestine fantasies to be painted in aureate ruby recognition
are as asking one to grasp glazing pearl stars under an elixir eclipse.
Upon scrolling night's interrogating introspective sighs of myrrh melodies
I refocus labyrinthine lilacs of drizzling determination through ethereal epics,
for it is through periwinkle poetry I've learned to set palindromes forward
and through vignette vellichor musings I'll leap amethyst acrostics.
~
BITTERSWEET (A PARADELLE FOR AUTUMN)
Gone is the bird song that once filled the sky
Gone is the bird song that once filled the sky
Now the wind moans low like lovers in need
Now the wind moans low like lovers in need
In need like a lover, that once filled the sky
Gone is the bird now like a low moan of wind
We have gleaned from the earth its bountiful fruit
We have gleaned from the earth its bountiful fruit
The fields are empty, the harvest is in
The fields are empty, the harvest is in
In the harvest gleaned of its bountiful fruit
From the earth we have empty fields
The leaves are beautiful in their dying
The leaves are beautiful in their dying
This is the swan song of earth
This is the swan song of earth
In their swan song dying
the leaves of earth are beautiful
The sky we have gleaned, empty as bird song
fields the leaves beautifully, in the harvest
dying, bountiful fruit gone, once
of earth in need like a lover’s swan song
filled by the low moans of wind
~ This Form ~
(Paradelle)
What can I say to you more?
What can I say to you more?
This form for me is so much fun
This form for me is so much fun
To you what more can I say
So much fun for me this form is…
Afraid I am already addicted to this
Afraid I am already addicted to this
Playing with words from my heart they come
Playing with words from my heart they come
Already to this afraid I am addicted
From the heart playing-they come from my heart
Hooked on verses of every kind
Hooked on verses of every kind
Toying with words, moving the lines
Toying with words, moving the lines
Of every kind hooked on verses
Moving the lines-toying with words
To you this form say more
With words and verses of every kind
Already addicted moving the lines
From the heart hooked on to this
Afraid they already come playing
With so much fun.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2004
September.04.2018
-'Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.'
- Mark Twain -
~Authors notes:
The Paradelle is a modern poetic form or style invented by Billy Collins as a parody of the villanelle. Billy Collins claimed that the paradelle was a difficult, fixed form consisting of four six-line stanzas with a repetitive pattern invented in eleventh century France, and the press believed the story and ran with it. Due to the extensive publicity, the Paradelle has made its rounds in the poetic community. Even though the form was invented as a hoax, the Paradelle has taken on a life of its own. It is still a difficult form, nonetheless, to practice which can be fun and
rewarding even though the inventor may not have intended it to be.
~This Form~
(Paradelle)
What can I say to you more?
What can I say to you more?
This form for me is so much fun
This form for me is so much fun
To you what more can I say
So much fun for me this form is…
Afraid I am already addicted to this
Afraid I am already addicted to this
Playing with words from the heart they come
Playing with words from the heart they come
Already to this afraid I am addicted
From the heart playing-they come from the heart
Hooked on verses of every kind
Hooked on verses of every kind
Toying with words, moving the lines
Toying with words, moving the lines
Of every kind hooked on verses
Moving the lines-toying with words
To you this form say more
With words and verses of every kind
Already addicted moving the lines
From the heart hooked on to this
Afraid they already come playing
With so much fun.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2004
October.26.2016
~Authors notes:
"The Paradelle" is a modern poetry form or style invented by Billy Collins as a parody of the Villanelle poetry style.
* Specifically, this piece is a Paradelle, but this option is not available*
We walked the same old streets.
We walked the same old streets.
And dined the same cheeper diners.
And dined the same cheeper diners.
Dined, we walked cheeper, the same
old streets, same diners.
Our paths crossed on weekdays.
Our paths crossed on weekdays.
I am unaware of your smell and touch.
I am unaware of your smell and touch.
Unaware, our paths smell and touch on weekdays,
I am crossed of your.
Our love tried to slip away.
Our love tried to slip away.
But fate had another plan.
But fate had another plan.
To slip away, love fate.
Had tried another, but our plan.
We unaware of weekdays love,
your touch tried to walk
the same old paths, cheeper,
but another plan and dined,
had our fate crossed.
diners slip away, I am diner's smell.
As love flew away at the breaking of dayAs love flew away at the breaking of dayThe night shed its tears on the groundThe night shed its tears on the groundThe day flew as the night ground shed its loveon the tears at the breaking away Dawn and twilight so little time to meetDawn and twilight so little time to meetThe shadows with the light play hide and seekThe shadows with the light play hide and seekSo little shadows seek and meet the dawnPlay time with twilight and to hide the light Dancing in the air the midnight sun returnsDancing in the air the midnight sun returnsMending the broken wings of the night songMending the broken wings of the night song Wings of the midnight air mending returnsThe sun song night dancing in the broken air The broken shadows flew in the midnight twilight,at the dawn, the dancing night wings mendingtears with time. The returns of the love song.The breaking meet as on the play groundThe air, as the day shed of its sun andso little, hide away and seek to the light
As the wind tosses winsome heather
As the wind tosses winsome heather
In the currents of an airy sea
In the currents of an airy sea
In the currents of winsome heather
The wind tosses as an airy sea
The senses filled with scent of sweet breeze
The senses filled with scent of sweet breeze
On the wind is sweet flower perfume to tease
On the wind is sweet flower perfume to tease
Sweet scent; on wind is perfume to tease
Senses filled with the flower breeze
Inhale the gust; seize it as a beautiful memory
Inhale the gust; seize it as a beautiful memory
Capture this winsome heather memory forever
Capture this winsome heather memory forever
Inhale the gust; capture a winsome memory
Capture the wind in memory ,
One gust is a perfume tease
This sweet scent of flower inhale, seize
as it tosses winsome heather
on the beautiful breeze;
Senses filled with the currents of an airy sea forever.
(Paradelle)
What can I say to you more?
What can I say to you more?
This form for me is so much fun
This form for me is so much fun
To you what more can I say
So much fun for me this form is…
Afraid I am already addicted to this
Afraid I am already addicted to this
Playing with words from the heart they come
Playing with words from the heart they come
Already to this afraid I am addicted
From the heart playing-they come from the heart!
Hooked on verses of every kind
Hooked on verses of every kind
Toying with words, moving the lines
Toying with words, moving the lines
Of every kind hooked on verses
Moving the lines-toying with words
To you this form say more
With words and verses of every kind
Already addicted moving the lines
From the heart hooked on to this
Afraid they already come playing
With so much fun!
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2004
09.17.2014
Ever tune anything in a dark hallway?
Ever tune anything in a dark hallway?
Let’s dance on rose petals and glass;
Let’s dance on rose petals and glass;
Anything, let’s dance in a dark hallway,
and ever tune glass on rose petals?
A slow song that always speeds up;
A slow song that always speeds up;
Overactive pulse hops in your throat;
Overactive pulse hops in your throat;
Always a pulse speeds up overactive,
in your throat that slow song hops;
Candles beside a moonlit hot tub;
Candles beside a moonlit hot tub;
I could relive this moment forever;
I could relive this moment forever;
Forever I could relive moonlit candles,
this moment beside a hot tub;
A slow song on? I relive this moment;
Overactive pulse always speeds up;
In a dark hallway glass hops in your throat;
Candles, let’s dance beside rose petals;
A moonlit tub could tune anything
that hot forever and ever .
Is a poem not a poem
If it doesn't rhyme
Some would state quite clearly
It is literally a crime
So lets explore, trying not to ignore
The many forms that exist
Some are common, some are rare
And there are some I will have missed
There are haiku's and limericks
Cinquains and triolets
Dizains and sonnets
There are villenelles and paradelles
Sestina's and rondels
Golden shovels and palindromes
There are odes and elergy's
Pastoral and epics
Ballads and acrostic's
There are found and couplet
Calligram and loop
concrete and prose
And many more than those
But what is abundantly clear
And I make it known today
The role of a poem
Is the messages you convey
It has alliteration, communication
Imagery and rules
It has structure and story
Meaning and musical
It has pentameter and line breaks
Synonyms and verse
Length and metaphor
A message to converse
It is a portrate, a story
A lesson on a page
A laugh, a tear
A philosophy for all age
It is couplets and emotion
Consonant and noun
Song lyrics without music
A story that you have found
But is it a poem if it doesn't rhyme?
Hopefully I can make it clear to see
That in this world of chaos
Free verse belongs in poetry
It is not about the rhyming
But the emotion within each verse
The pouring of your feelings
When your at your worst
Its the words that are the meaning
The message that we send
Not wether we search through thesaurus
To make sure the word matches at the end
So write about anything you feel
And im sure you will now agree
That what really matters
Is that we all love poetry!