Rondeau 5

Yes, it has been a few months since I posted. But I have been thinking about the poetry I write for this site all along. It takes concentration and time set aside to create something like a rondeau, (or any of the more complicated forms of poetry.) While I admit I could have been quicker about it this time, this poems are not the sort one can crank out ten at a time, and expect any quality.

Nonetheless, here is my fifth rondeau. My exploration of the form will continue for a bit more, hopefully without as large a delay as this time.

*

By candle light, one's heart is known.
For one can never be alone
Amid the dancing of the flame.
We cannot hide our pride or shame.
Our dreams, our fears, our sins are shown.

Undulating shadows are blown
Along four walls of solid stone.
Nothing ever looks the same
By candle light.

Some will their tragic state bemoan.
For sins, some others will atone.
Still others won't assign the blame.
To them it's nothing but a game.
And for a few? Their legend grows
By candle light.

Rondeau 4

In braver days, the land was free.
An honest difference would not be
A reason for me to despise
Distrust and doubt, defame with lies.
There was another view to see.

This land was safe for men like me.
It was no crime to disagree.
And noble souls could compromise.
In braver days.

No cowering on bended knee.
No public servant apathy.
No hungry wolves in sheep disguise.
No hesitance to realize
The weak owe no apology.
In braver days.

Rondeau 3

All summer long I hear the creek.
Bubbling, burbling, I hear it speak,
And with it crickets in the weed.
So very little do I need
When I embrace the earth's mystique.

I hike across  the world's physique,
Sweating and panting as I seek
The confirmations of my creed.
All summer long.

Oh how my passions reach their peak,
A soothing balm for when I'm weak.
Beneath the sun my soul shall feed.
There is a calling I shall heed
All summer long.

Rondeau 2

I wage a war I cannot show.
A war the world must never know.
The struggle is my private hell.
Combatants names I will not tell,
Nor will I tell where I must go.

No casualties. No blood will flow.
No commendations to bestow.
Yet if I win all will be well.
I wage a war.

An explanation I may owe.
Contemporaries tell me so.
Yet though their admonitions swell,
To say would sound my own death knell.
Suffice to say, it's going slow.
I wage a war.

Rondeau 1

As I mentioned in my previous entry, I'll be exploring another form for a while. That form, as you can see from the title of this post, is the rondeau.

The form was originally used in medieval France for songs, its use of a rentrement, (the refrain) making it ideal for singing about particularly emotional subjects.

Though not usually put to music in modern times, the basic structure of the lyrics has remained the same: fifteen lines, three stanzas. The lines are uniformly either ten or eight syllables long throughout the piece, other than the refrain when it stands alone.

The first stanza consists of five lines, of AABBA rhyme scheme, the first four beats of the first line forming the rentrement/refrain.

The second stanza consists of three full lines at AAB rhyme, the fourth line being the rentrement by itself. In the original French, the rentrement did not traditionally fall into the rhyme scheme. English poets in the 19th century popularized the incorporation of  the refrain into the rest of the rhyme scheme, thinking it provided greater emphasis.

The final stanza is five full lines, back to the AABBA scheme, the sixth line being another stand alone occurrence of the rentrement.

Though requiring practice, composing them has for me been easier than trying to describe them here. I do find  rentrement impactful, but unlike the villanelle which to me seems to come in unending waves of obsession for the subject of its two refrains, the rentrement of the rondeau feels to me more like a reminder; the reader is lulled away a bit with relevant, potent imagery or symbolism pertaining to the subject or theme, and is then brought gently back to it thus making the rentrement a sort of miniature poem in its own right, backed up by the rest of the verse.

The challenge, if one is writing a rondeau in the true spirit in which it was invented, is to devise a rentrement that is powerful in its own right, and to end each line memorably with an easily rhymed word.

The best example I have ever read in English is In Flanders Fields by John McCrae.

Thus far in my exploration, as you will see below, I have opted to make my lines eight syllables. Firstly because I am still weary of working with ten syllables from my exploration of the sonnet, and because I've found that many of my poetic phrases and lines tend to naturally gravitate toward eight syllables for some reason. Finally, I think the rhythm is more emotional with eight.

For now, I've also opted to keep my rentrement outside of the rhyme scheme of the rest of the poem, allowing it to stand alone. Contrary to the 19th century English poets mentioned above, I find this separation of the refrain, both in position and in sound is far more effective.

I will likely adhere to this pattern for my entire exploration of the form, but I may throw in some of the alternative structures later on.

For now, here endeth the lesson, and here startith the rondeau.

*

I'll find a way to stand up straight.
My  heart shall never hesitate
To open up for all to see.
I will be always true to me.
This is the manner of the great.

While here on earth I must not wait.
Once life is over, it's too late.
So even when I cannot see
I'll find a way.

I don't know what to make of Fate.
I only know love conquers hate.
And so wherever I may be,
My generosity is key.
(With other things I contemplate.)
I'll find a way.