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Smoke and Mirrors - Reading the Entrails: A Rondel

#72: Sept. - Oct. 2009 (Fiction)
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Chris OConnor

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Smoke and Mirrors - Reading the Entrails: A Rondel

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Reading the Entrails: A Rondel
WildCityWoman
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A rondel . . . well, that reminds me of why I shy away from using the traditional forms in poetry, why I prefer a free style verse, for reading and writing.

The rondel, like many traditional forms, has a strong rhyme scheme and it tends to distract from what the poet is actually saying.

The mind is so attuned to the rhyme, expecting it, it looks for that sound to kick in - misses the thought given.

They'll call it chance, or luck, or call it Fate --
The cards and stars that tumble as they will.
Tomorrow manifests and brings the bill
For every kiss and kill, the small and great.
You want to know the future, love? Then wait:
I'll answer your impatient questions. Still --
They'll call it chance, or luck, or call it Fate,
The cards and stars that tumble as they will.

Me, I'm not missing the message, because I'm aware of the rhyme scheme, so my mind doesn't need to track it.

And, I actually like the poem . . .

Who is the narrator? The poet? God? The devil? The goddess of fate?

Who is speaking . . .

It's well done, this rondel. A poem done in traditional form is well done, if the poet can hold the reader's interest with the words, allow the reader to forget the rhyming scheme, if the message is strong enough.

It is NOT a poem that says nothing, just carries words that rhyme and look good.
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poettess
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Prose is nice...but a good rhyming poem is music to the ears and engages me with its rhythm. PLUS, I find a certain level of admiration in my heart for those poets who can not only rhyme well in that lyrical fashion, but also use such pairings of words that inspire me and show wit.
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Krysondra

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I really love poems that follow forms and do it well. I think it shows a lot of talent to put an idea into a form like that. I've tried to do it myself with varying forms and varying success.

As for the narrator... I imagine an old crone with her tarot cards and her magic ball in front of her just cackling away.

You want to know the future, love? Then wait:
I'll answer your impatient questions...


She knows that all the answers can really only be found in time. She can predict things that may or may not occur.

.... Still --
They'll call it chance, or luck, or call it Fate,
The cards and stars that tumble as they will.


I like the poem as well. Something about it makes me think I should put it on the mirror.
"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never say a common place thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..." ~ Jack Kerouac
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