Terpsickore:
An Experiment in Rhyme
By FlatDaddy
She’s not the girl he wanted,
she who haunted him and stalked
him and talked him into dance.
Their romance, sparked by music,
He, too sick to see danger.
This dark stranger smiled abright,
came each night as some old friend.
She shunned all other suitors,
none would suit her sole mad plan;
O, no man but him would do.
No one who was there could know
she would sow a deadly seed:
burning need that would not heal.
No appeal could make her bend!
She hounded him for each dance,
no slight chance to call retreat —
with the beat, she pulled him in.
Promised sin in every glance;
with each dance she offered more!
Satan’s whore soon planted seeds
of black needs within his brain.
Lights spun flashing like bright stars
or fast cars that dashed along
blaring song in 4/4 time,
lending rhyme to join the din:
Her mad grin and flying gown
pinned him down to her dead breast,
stealing rest and leaving pain.
When the band packed up and left,
now bereft of music, then
‘rose a din: “lies, demon witch!”
But the bitch loosed hungry crows
that arose within her hair
leaving there the foulest smell,
Acrid Hell: her true perfume.
Oh, dead she was and knew it.
Laughing through it, his soul tired,
near expired, his knees grew weak.
O a shriek and wail of joy:
just a ploy to reel him in
and again force him to dance:
A romance writ on a tomb.
Soon, he stumbled as if blind,
couldn’t find his tongue to speak;
Now, each cheek, and toe and thumb
Grew quite numb; but oh, his head,
almost dead, still felt the fire
that rose high’r in his brain!
‘til, insane, he sadly died.
Alas, when all had ended
she pretended all was well,
bid farewell and danced away.
Who can say where she calls home?
Some dark tome may list her place,
Show her face, but not her name.
“Death’s a game,” she softly cried.
Very good rhythmic ink Flat
Bat
Well, how ’bout that?
Thank you,Bat.
all said, bat
I’ll stand pat
then get my hat
and scat
— Flat
nice!
An excellently rendered work, Syr! 🎖️
Well struck in grammar, vivid imagery and emotional timbre, metaphoric fancies, and all around palpable appeal … left me with an eerie sensation, which I suspect, is part of your intent.
The rhyme scheme is both entertaining, original, and would be creatively challenging to the average poet, I think. The seven-count lines in Quadra-Verse are also quite unique, as it’s rare (if ever) I’ve read this exact format.
The endline/three-syllables-in rhyme scheme flows nicely, too … I like it very much and may give it a go!
NitPick: Check the four syllables in on V6-L, the only rhyme that tripped me.
Thank you, Syr Poet, most humbly and gratefully for the gracious invite! ⁓ Richard🖌
Well, that’s a damned nice deconstructive review, Richard, but I confess I’m at a loss as to your V6-L problem; I fail to see it. As I said earlier, I have absolutely no formal training. Never took a class in poetry; highschool English Lit was the closest I got to that. Everything else is self taught. I didn’t start writing til I was in my twenties, and that was all performance work, more geared to my dramatic training. I never thought about writing poetry on a serious level until about 2o years ago; took a 20 year hiatus from life in general when I was injured. Didn’t write so much as a dirty limerick during that time, and finally wanted to see what I could do on a serious level about ten years ago, and even then my concentration was on entertainment. Stuff like, Omniumgatherum, to stretch my head and entertain. So, can you explain in more non-technical terms? I would appreciate it greatly.