Blog Posts

March Madness Winds Down

4/11/2014

I had a terrific time doing March Madness this year and I'd like to again express my thanks to Ed DeCaria of Think Kid Think for hosting the contest every year and for putting an amazing amount of work into it on top of his day job. I'd also like to express my thanks to everyone who was behind me, supporting me, and voting for me. I felt it and it felt wonderful! I went into it with a whole lot of trepidation because I don't normally perform well under pressure. But even though I was sleep deprived, drinking copious quantities of green tea to help me stay up all night. writing double dactyls that really missed the mark, somehow, some way, I got it together enough to continue for five rounds. I can't ever remember feeling so inspired!

In the fourth round, my word was "imperceptible." I spent quite a while making lists of things that were imperceptible, such as an imperceptible glance between two high-schoolers that have begun to like each other (and I actually did write a poem using this idea.) Or, a grandfather pointing out to his granddaughter the imperceptible beginnings of spring. I did not use this idea but in the fifth round, I think the seeds had been planted, because I wrote my villanelle about the celebration of spring time. Nothing is ever wasted. Nothing is ever lost.

With these thoughts swirling in my head, I went to bed, and when I woke up the next day (I wouldn't say it was morning), I realized I wanted to write a pantoum. I had recently been experimenting with pantoums but had never managed to complete one in just four stanzas. That would be my challenge and here's the pantoum I came up with for round four:

Behind the Dancing Rain: A Pantoum

Lying in bed on nights when it storms,
I dream of a world past my window pane:
imperceptible movements, mysterious forms,
masked by the dance of the thunder-clapped rain.

I dream of a world past my window pane--
the gnarled fingers of troll-like trees.
Masked by the dance of the thunder-clapped rain,
owls hoo-hoo in the gusty breeze.

The gnarled fingers of troll-like trees
tap the walls of my hapless house.
Owls hoo-hoo in the gusty breeze.
In a sodden field sleeps a quiet mouse.

Tapping the walls of my hapless house,
imperceptible movements, mysterious forms.
In a sodden field sleeps a quiet mouse
in its own hidden bed on nights when it storms.

All Rights Reserved 2014 B.J. Lee

I'd also like to do a how-to on the pantoum similar to the one I did on the villanelle simply because I love forms!

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The Villanelle

4/6/2014

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Since I posted my villanelle, "Spring Has Sprung: A Villanelle" in the March Madness Poetry Competition, I have had several questions about the villanelle form itself. So I decided to do a blog post about the villanelle. This is not meant to be an exhaustive examination of the villanelle form but simply my experience with writing villanelles and some things I've learned about them.

I like poetry.about.com's definition of the villanelle which includes the breakdown of the rhyme scheme:

The villanelle’s 19 lines form five triplets and a quatrain, using only two rhymes throughout the whole form. The entire first line is repeated as lines 6, 12 and 18 and the third line is repeated as lines 9, 15 and 19—so that the lines which frame the first triplet weave through the poem like refrains in a traditional song, and together form the end of the concluding stanza. With these repeating lines [often called the repetend] represented as A1 and A2 (because they rhyme together), the entire scheme is:

A1
b
A2

a
b
A1 (refrain)

a
b
A2 (refrain)

a
b
A1 (refrain)

a
b
A2 (refrain)

a
b
A1 (refrain)
A2 (refrain)

A good example of a villanelle that many people know is Dylan Thomas' haunting, "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" which I will quote here, since it is in the Public Domain. I'll superimpose the rhyme scheme to the right so you can see how Thomas put together his villanelle.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
By Dylan Thomas 1914-1953

Do not go gentle into that good night, A1
Old age should burn and rave at close of day; b
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. A2

Though wise men at their end know dark is right, a
Because their words had forked no lightning they b
Do not go gentle into that good night. A1

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright a
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, b
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. A2

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, a
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, b
Do not go gentle into that good night. A1

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight a
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, b
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. A2

And you, my father, there on the sad height, a
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. b
Do not go gentle into that good night. A1
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. A2

* * *

In the process of trying to write villanelles, I have learned two things about writing villlanelles:

1. Be sure you have something worth repeating for your repeating lines as both repeating lines will each be repeated several times.

2, Choose your rhymes carefully. Because there are only two rhymes used throughout each villanelle, you have to choose your rhyme scheme carefully and be sure you have enough rhyming words that will work together to get you through the entire villanelle.

* * *

When deciding to write my villanelle for March Madness, I decided to use my unusual given word, 'incontinent,' in one of the repeating lines, because I was using the second definition :

in·con·ti·nent
inˈkäntənənt,-ˈkäntn-ənt/
adjective
adjective: incontinent
1. having no or insufficient voluntary control over urination or defecation.
2. lacking self-restraint; uncontrolled.
  "the incontinent hysteria of the fans"
  synonyms: unrestrained, lacking self-restraint, uncontrolled, unbridled, unchecked, unfettered

and I wanted to bombard the reader with the word, so no thought of the first definition of 'incontinent' would ever enter the reader's mind.

Secondly, I brainstormed for ideas which were 'incontinent' in themselves; i.e., unrestrained, uncontrolled, unbridled, unfettered, and the one idea that kept coming to me was springtime where buds and blooms are bursting, people are feeling exuberant after a long, cooped-up winter, and are getting out to enjoy the outdoors, syrup is flowing out of maple trees, animals are mating, etc., a veritable riot of unrestrained, out-of-control, unfettered incontinence.

* * *

I'd like to include one more bit of information about the villanelle as a member of a family of repeating forms, such as the triolet, the pantoum, and the roundel.
I love Tilt-a-Whirl editor, Kate Bernadette Benedict's "Cheat Sheet of Poetic Forms." (I believe Tilt-a-Whirl is no longer being published), but it was good while it lasted and is still online for your reading enjoyment. There are good examples of many of the repeating forms.

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March Madness - Incontinent

4/4/2014

12 Comments

Well, I've made it to the Semifinals in the March Madness Poetry Contest currently underway at Ed DeCaria's blog, Think Kid Think. Yup, just four of us left! I was reluctant to try doing the contest because I am not good under pressure, but I am surprising myself on this one. True, I did have several panic-stricken hours when I thought I would not have a poem for Round 3 with the word "pseudonymous," but in the end my wacky poem, "The Amoeba Gang," won the round. With the exception of that very difficult round, however, I am finding that I'm doing well under pressure and also discovering what a work-horse I am!

I'm very grateful for being in the contest this go-round because I had been in a bit of a writer' slump. Last year, I participated in the 12 X 12 picture book challenge and, in the end, I was so burned out on picture books, I turned away from them entirely to focus solely on poetry. I may go back to my picture book manuscripts, but at this point, I am thinking poetry and maybe finishing my YA or adult novel(s). I find picture books to be extremely difficult for various reasons which I'll save for another post. So I was feeling at loose ends with my writing "career" such as it is, with no poetry collection yet published and no picture book yet published although I do have a slew of poems published in magazines and about seven poems anthologized. I got a bad case of writer's block and a worse case of depression. We are also in the process of moving, fixing up our old house, and putting an addition on our new house so that has been very disruptive as well. Our old house goes on the market on Sunday, which is very exciting!

March Madness has given me back my drive, reinforced my love for poetry, and given me a desire to press on and see what I can do. It also taught me that, if I get 'stuck' again, simply go in a different direction, take a class, get out my watercolors for awhile, work on my novel. Just do something, something different, and I'll eventually find my way again.

Here is the poem I have submitted for Round 5. I went a few different ways with the word "incontinent", but in the end decided to go with it's secondary meaning rather than write potty-humor, which is sooo not my style. I hope you are finding the time to enjoy the contest. I think Ed is doing a wonderful and very hard thing at Think Kid Think. We all thank you, Ed! I also wanted to thank those who have been supporting me, voting for me, sharing and liking my face book posts and retweeting my tweets. I feel very connected to the poetry community as well as other writers and it's a wonderful feeling.

Here's the poem:

Spring has Sprung: A Villanelle

It’s time for a party to celebrate spring!
Let’s run with abandon, let’s race with the breeze.
A boundlessly joyous, incontinent fling

will let winter know he’s no longer the king!
Let’s fix up our bikes and let’s put away skis.
I’s time for a party to celebrate spring.

Let’s fly our kites high, holding tight to the string.
Let’s welcome the butterflies, beetles, and bees
with a boundlessly joyous, incontinent fling.

Let’s soar to the sky on the seat of a swing.
Let’s dance round the lilacs and crabapple trees.
It’s time for a party to celebrate spring.

The migrating birds are all back on the wing.
More crocuses, tulips and daffodils, please,
to brighten our joyous, incontinent fling;

for springtime is here! Let’s clap and let’s sing!
Let’s tumble and tussle and green-up our knees.
It’s time for a party to celebrate spring--
a boundlessly joyous, incontinent fling.

B.J. Lee 2014 All Rights Reserved

Please stop by and vote for your favorites! Here is the direct link to my match: http://www.thinkkidthink.com/incontinent-vs-kerfuffle/ Thank you #MMPoetry

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March Madness - Pseudonymous

3/27/2014

22 Comments

I was given the *delightful* word, "pseudonymous" in the 3rd Round of the March Madness poetry contest currently underway on Ed DeCaria's website, Think Kid Think. I almost cried. Then I got down to business. I stayed up till 6 a.m. and wrote several poems, one of which I thought was quite good about Lemony Snicket (a double dactyl). My crit group, The Poet's Garage, pretty much panned it (although I later found out that Buffy liked it.) Back to square one.

On Thursday, I was busy with contractors at the house we are getting ready to put on the market. I was sleep-deprived and impatient because I wanted to get back to my computer. Finally, I got back to the house, after stopping at Starbucks for some caffeine and the library for some Dr. Seuss. I needed to refresh my memory since I was now considering writing a double dactyl about Dr. Seuss (double-dactyls on the brain). But, back at the computer, nothing would come together. I gave up in despair and took the dogs to the dog park. When my husband got home, I told him I didn't think I would have a poem for the third round, or at best, a poem that my crit group did not love. I read the Lemony Snicket to him; he didn't like it either. In fact, he said it was boring! :(

But he also said he would make dinner so I could maybe come up with something else. I forced myself to put put the double-dactyls aside and focus on other ideas. I wrote several other poems, but nothing special, then I had a brainstorm. I quickly roughed it out. My husband thought it was hilarious. I expanded, I tightened, I tweaked for several hours and read it to him again. He laughed! Music to my ears, and it is what I posted for the 3rd round of March Madness:

The Amoeba Gang

Albert the amoeba, a microscopic thief
had stolen from the hydra clan and now had come to grief.
The Unicellular Police were hot on Albert’s trail.
His pseudo-feet moved oh-so-slow. Would he be thrown in jail?
He tried to hang with slime molds, but they swam away from him.
The rotifers rejected him; his prospects now looked grim.
But suddenly he had a thought, a bright, pseudonymous plot--
a perfect way to slip and slide from this tight, ominous spot.
He fissioned once. He fissioned twice, and quick as one-two-three,
Al and Hal and Sal and Cal, all said, “It wasn’t me.”

~B.J. Lee All Rights Reserved c March 26,2014

I'm glad I persevered because I am truly proud of this poem. My opponent's (Darren Sardelli) poem is also good, though, and at last look, he is beating me in the Public Vote. Voting is open for another 22 hours or so. Please have a look and vote for your favorites. Our own, Buffy Silverman has a poem in Round 3 as well. Here is a direct link to my matchup - March Madness - Pseudonymous vs Insubordinate. Thank you!

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March Madness - Unpredictable

3/24/2014

2 Comments

Well, I've made it to Round 2 of the March Madness Poetry Contest happening right now at Ed DeCaria's site Think Kid Think. I have been given the word, 'unpredictable.' At first, I thought it would be easier than the word I had in Round 1, 'fungible,' because I didn't know what 'fungible' meant, whereas I do know what 'unpredictable' means. However, this was not the case. I had more difficulty writing a poem with the word 'unpredictable,' than I did with 'fungible', although in the end, I do like my unpredictable poem as well as my fungible poem. Please take a minute to stop by and vote on this round of March Madness! Thank you! Here's a direct link to the Unpredictable/Flamboyant match up.

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March Madness "Fungibility"

3/20/2014

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I've been on hiatus from my blog because we were moving. We have moved, and I'm in love with our new artsy house, but now we have to fix up our old place to get it on the market. I really don't enjoy the whole real estate thing; it eats up so much time. I'd rather be writing and blogging. What got me to post today is my involvement in March Madness. I was assigned the word, fungible, a word I had never heard of before. I felt like I was back in college, pulling an all-nighter, but it was a good feeling in a way to be so involved in producing one poem in a short period of time. We had 32 hours, but of course some of that had to be spent sleeping (not much, but some). In any case, I've linked to Ed DeCaria's Think Kid Think site below. Ed is the mastermind behind March Madness and I think it gets bigger and better every year. If you haven't checked out the Madness before, it's really a lot of fun to read and vote on the poems!

Voting for my match has begun. "Strewn" vs. "Fungibile". Please cast your vote!

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March Madness

3/20/2014

2 Comments

March Madness is upon us again. It's an exciting poetry contest between children's poets in which poets are given a word and must write a poem using that word within 32 hours. My word was 'fungible' and my poem, Fungibility, is up now for vote. Please stop by and cast your vote and may the best man/woman win!

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Poetry Minute and Hiatus

12/19/2013

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I want to thank Kenn Nesbitt for posting my poem, "High Dive" on Poetry Minute.org this past Tuesday, December 17, 2014! Here's the poem:

I never can understand why
a diver will climb toward the sky
to pull off a gainer.
Is nothing insaner
than diving from 30 feet high?

(c) B.J. Lee 2012 All Rights Reserved

I wrote this poem for the anthology, And the Crowd Goes Wild! A Global Gathering of Sports Poems, edited by Carol-Ann Hoyte and Heidi Bee Roemer. It was a lot of fun seeing this anthology come together with poems about sports from poets around the world!

If any of you are not familiar with Kenn's site, I wholeheartedly recommend checking it out! He is posting a poem a day for every day of the school year! I have subscribed and it is wonderful to receive a new children's poem in my inbox every day!

Notice of Hiatus

I also want to post my notice of hiatus. I have a nasty sprained ankle. I have been absent from the poetry community for a bit now and I keep postponing announcing a haitus because I think I will surely be mended any day now. Not! I need to really take it easy, my doctor has urged. Sigh! So, I guess I need to take it seriously and stop hovering on the borders of doing too much and aggravating the sprain. But, knowing me, now that I've announced the hiatus, I'll probably be better in no time at all! We'll see.

Anyway I miss participating in the poetry community, but I'll be back before long!

I guess I won't be wearing these any time soon!

Okay, signing off! Time to put my feet up!

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Poetry Friday - Parody of Ulalume by Edgar Allan Poe

10/31/2013

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Once again I find myself writing a parody. This Halloween, I've been rereading Edgar Allan Poe's poetry, particularly Ulalume, which is a haunting poem, but also, I think, funny, because of its melodrama and rhyming pyrotechnics.

As I pondered this poem, I remembered one Halloween which was kind of interesting. A friend and I had spent Halloween hiking at Maudslay State Park in Newberyport. In our enjoyment of the beautiful fall day and without a sign of any trick-or-treaters, we had forgotten it was Halloween. On our way home to Cambridge, we decided to stop in Salem for dinner. We parked, walked into the heart of the city, and encountered a procession of witches dressed in black capes and carrying candles. I kid you not. Laurie Cabot, herself, led the procession, which was headed for a graveyard. They asked us to join them and offered us candles. Needless to say, we begged off.

I took some liberties with this story in a short parody of E.A. Poe's Ulalume. I'm not sure this is finished, but here it is:

Witchy Salem

The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crispèd and sere--
The leaves they were withering and sere;
On the thirty-first night of October,
The scariest night of the year.
It was hard by the witches’ own city
In the mad, misty city of Salem
It was down by the witches’ brick city,
In the ghoul-haunted center of Salem.

I met a procession of witches
Who said, “To the graveyard we’re bound.
To the vine-covered tombstones we’re bound.”
They said, “You can carry this candle.”
You will have an encounter profound.”
I said, “No, I won’t go to the graveyard.
No, I would rather be drowned.”
But the witch fixed her eyes just beyond me
And I fell in and marched with that crowd.

So I walked with that gloomy procession,
And the witch cackled low in my ear.
Yes, the witch babbled low in my ear.
She spoke of the graveyard in Salem,
The decrepit old graveyard called ‘Mere.’
“You remember the graveyard, my pretty,
Where late in October last year,
A group of men carried your coffin--
A casket of black so severe.

(c) 2013 B.J. Lee All Rights Reserved

Here is the poem I've parodied, Edgar Allan Poe's Ulalume (or, as The Poetry Foundation names it, To -- -- --. Ulalume: A Ballad

To -- -- --. Ulalume: A Ballad
By Edgar Allan Poe 1809–1849 Edgar Allan Poe

The skies they were ashen and sober;
      The leaves they were crispéd and sere--
      The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
      Of my most immemorial year;
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
      In the misty mid region of Weir--
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
      In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once, through an alley Titanic,
      Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul--
      Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.
These were days when my heart was volcanic
      As the scoriac rivers that roll--
      As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek
      In the ultimate climes of the pole--
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek
      In the realms of the boreal pole.

Our talk had been serious and sober,
      But our thoughts they were palsied and sere--
      Our memories were treacherous and sere--
For we knew not the month was October,
      And we marked not the night of the year--
      (Ah, night of all nights in the year!)
We noted not the dim lake of Auber--
      (Though once we had journeyed down here)--
We remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,
      Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

And now, as the night was senescent
      And star-dials pointed to morn--
      As the star-dials hinted of morn--
At the end of our path a liquescent
      And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
      Arose with a duplicate horn--
Astarte's bediamonded crescent
      Distinct with its duplicate horn.

And I said—"She is warmer than Dian:
      She rolls through an ether of sighs--
      She revels in a region of sighs:
She has seen that the tears are not dry on
      These cheeks, where the worm never dies,
And has come past the stars of the Lion
      To point us the path to the skies--
      To the Lethean peace of the skies--
Come up, in despite of the Lion,
      To shine on us with her bright eyes--
Come up through the lair of the Lion,
      With love in her luminous eyes."

But Psyche, uplifting her finger,
      Said—"Sadly this star I mistrust--
      Her pallor I strangely mistrust:--
Oh, hasten! oh, let us not linger!
      Oh, fly!—let us fly!—for we must."
In terror she spoke, letting sink her
      Wings till they trailed in the dust--
In agony sobbed, letting sink her
      Plumes till they trailed in the dust--
      Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied—"This is nothing but dreaming:
      Let us on by this tremulous light!
      Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
Its Sybilic splendor is beaming
      With Hope and in Beauty to-night:--
      See!—it flickers up the sky through the night!
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,
      And be sure it will lead us aright--
We safely may trust to a gleaming
      That cannot but guide us aright,
      Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night."

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
      And tempted her out of her gloom--
      And conquered her scruples and gloom:
And we passed to the end of the vista,
      But were stopped by the door of a tomb--
      By the door of a legended tomb;
And I said—"What is written, sweet sister,
      On the door of this legended tomb?"
      She replied—"Ulalume—Ulalume--
      'Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!"

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
      As the leaves that were crispèd and sere--
      As the leaves that were withering and sere,
And I cried—"It was surely October
      On this very night of last year
      That I journeyed—I journeyed down here--
      That I brought a dread burden down here--
      On this night of all nights in the year,
      Oh, what demon has tempted me here?
Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber--
      This misty mid region of Weir--
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber--
      In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir."

Said we, then—the two, then—"Ah, can it
      Have been that the woodlandish ghouls--
      The pitiful, the merciful ghouls--
To bar up our way and to ban it
      From the secret that lies in these wolds--
      From the thing that lies hidden in these wolds--
Had drawn up the spectre of a planet
      From the limbo of lunary souls--
This sinfully scintillant planet
      From the Hell of the planetary souls?"

26 Comments

Poetry Friday - Roundel

10/17/2013

38 Comments

First, I’d like to thank Laura Sassi for having me as a guest blogger this past Monday on her blog, Laura Sassi Tales. I blogged about the poetry/music connection and I was delighted that many poets in the Poetry Friday community stopped by!

In honor of the season, I’m posting a scary poem today. This poem was first published in the online zine, Underneath the Juniper Tree in June, 2011, along with the artwork shown. I just recently learned that literary agent, Bree Ogden, is the co-founder and managing editor of Underneath the Juniper Tree.

This poem is a roundel, a form with an interesting history. First devised by Algernon Swinburne, it is the Anglo-Norman form corresponding to the French rondeau. It makes use of refrains, repeated according to a certain stylized pattern. A roundel consists of nine lines each having the same number of syllables, plus a refrain after the third line and after the last line. The refrain must be identical with the beginning of the first line: it may be a half-line, and rhymes with the second line. It has three stanzas and its rhyme scheme is as follows: A B A R ; B A B ; A B A R ; where R is the refrain (from Wikipedia). I know it sounds complicated but it's really not too bad once you get going. The roundel is another favorite form of mine.

This poem also fits into the category of speculative poetry. Speculative poetry is comprised of science fiction, fantasy, and horror (The Science Fiction Poetry Association). For children, that would be mild horror. I love to write speculative poetry.

And now, the poem:

artwork by Underneath the Juniper Tree

The Things I Saw
By B.J. Lee

The things I saw when I was lost
and followed signs for "Devil's Claw."
I took that road at such a cost--
the things I saw!

Through forest trees I peered in awe
at witches standing in the frost,
who handled things -- an ear, a paw,

then quickly, in their cauldron tossed
these objects with a birdie's craw.
I turned and fled. My eyes had crossed--
the things I saw!

(c) 2011 B.J. Lee All Rights Reserved

Thank you to Cathy at Merely Day by Day for hosting.

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I am a poet who writes for children and sometimes for adults. I live in Florida with my husband, speculative poet, Malcolm Deeley, and our toy poodle Bijoux. I have over 90 poems published or forthcoming in major anthologies and magazines, including "The Journal of Children's Literature". In 2014, I reached the Final Four in the March Madness Poetry Contest. I'm a member of The Poets' Garage and The SCBWI.