Challenge.3 :: Glosa

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Thread: Challenge.3 :: Glosa

  1. #1
    Get Touched abiona's Avatar
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    Challenge.3 :: Glosa

    And now for something a bit more challenging...

    Glosa

    One of my favorite types of poems. The challenge is to identify a poem you like, on RB, one of your own, or a published piece and use four lines of it to create a glosa poem. Now, since you might not know what a glosa is... here is some reading.

    WHAT IS A GLOSA POEM?


    The Glosa was used by poets of the Spanish court and dates back to the late 14th and early 15th century. For some reason, it has not been particularly popular in English. A search of the Internet search will uncovered a meager number of brief references to the form. From the limited information it is learned that the traditional structure has two parts. The first part is called the texte or cabeza. It consists of the first few lines (usually four) or the first stanza (usually a quatrain) from a well-known poem or poet. It has become permissible to use lines from a less well-known poet, or even from ones own verse.

    The second part is the glose or glosa proper. This is a “gloss on,” an expansion, interpretation or explanation of the texte. The formal rule describes the glosa as consisting of four ten-line stanzas, with the consecutive lines of the texte being used as the tenth line (called the glossing) of each stanza. Furthermore, lines six and nine must rhyme with the borrowed tenth. Internal features such as length of lines, meter and rhyme are at the discretion of the poet.

    *source

    Feel free to post your attempt in this thread as well as in Poetic Scriptures for some feedback.

    I'll start it off so you can see what I mean.

    enjoy!
    ArtificialIntelligence


    TNL
    ps... abi punchlines are played


  2. #2
    Get Touched abiona's Avatar
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    Re: Challenge.3 :: Glosa


    This is where you will cry the most
    learn to gather your tears into fists
    realizing water will never grant your wishes
    reflections are always true but never wet.

    from I am a Work in Progress
    by Jessica Care Moore


    midnight musings push pens across paper
    as darkness brings solitude to light
    on nights when empty beds and empty promises
    make the silence deafening to hungry ears
    can you hear the tears laid bare by the lonely
    wrapped in memories issued as kisses from a ghost
    torn and trampled like discarded clothing, wearing
    stitches and staples upon skin bearing sins
    of which only the wicked would boast.
    this is where you will cry the most.

    the sky will open to gather your tears
    chests heaving from sobs caught in frozen throats
    arms outstretched in supplication
    praying for salvation from the stars
    scattered into constellations, painted
    landscapes of intimacy's remembered trysts
    but sunshine dries the dampened earth
    and puts weak souls to rest
    and when morning breaks through the blanketing mists
    learn to gather your tears into fists

    to fight with fractured visions of self
    that pause the wounds from healing
    bent backs straightening like flowers in bloom
    rebirth at dawn slowly creeping
    for time is the soothing balm of gilead
    to stifle a pain once vicious
    the eyes will dry, as did the earth
    tears of ablution no longer needed
    when you search your soul for riches
    realizing that water will never grant your wishes

    instead whisper them to the tallest trees
    for tears hold no substance for strength
    understand the revolving cycles of life
    for when darkness clears
    as does all with the passage of time
    you shall return to the pedestal upon which dreams were set
    to birth into being, a new calm
    from the storm clouds of yesterdays
    accepting that rain shall indeed fall, and yet
    reflections are always true but never wet
    ArtificialIntelligence


    TNL
    ps... abi punchlines are played


  3. #3
    microcosm spokenoh's Avatar
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    Re: Challenge.3 :: Glosa

    Picture my thoughts of her every night driving me mad
    Picture her, I picture her, because right now, pictures are all I have
    I long for the opportunity to hold her, run fingers through her hair & hold her face
    Until then I picture her in my life until such is the case
    - Derrick Brown, "Taking a Chance on Love"

    I am counting to a thousand and as each breath
    slips quietly into the murmurs of an empty room,
    hands pulling at cheeks & eye sockets swollen
    with recollection, a dry canvas crackles in my heart
    like the honest beginnings of a starless night fire
    and my heart beats cascade onto a sketch pad
    I am drawing from memory what you look like,
    the taste of your breath, the slight touch
    of your porcelain jawline, the nose wrinkles
    and the colour of your skin like a myriad
    picture my thoughts of her every night driving me mad

    and they are masterwork momentos
    they are the Mona Lisa smile that has nothing
    on what she does to me when she laughs
    and I can know each and every dimple like
    the pale scars on my knees, the faded
    blushed imprints of my kisses on her calves
    all the places I've been, the map of arteries
    from her pink baby toes to the shadow
    of her earlobes, locks of hair split in halves
    Picture her, I picture her, because right now, pictures are all I have

    that I can say are mine to hold close and dear,
    some I had forgotten about, places vague
    and opaque like childhood ghosts but
    I promise I never forget how you looked to me
    and the slow ache of missing you beside me
    but these small things I can only embrace
    with phantom arms that need something
    to hold onto that won't vanish from fingertips
    I keep calling out for grace
    I long for the opportunity to hold her, run fingers through her hair, and hold her face

    in the morning while you would breathe
    small wisps of innocence and love, love, love
    on my shoulderblade and I could just watch
    for there was no great poem to write
    like the one you were when you slept
    and with my lips slow I could trace
    everything I can never say with words & letters
    but now I want you to know I'll always love you,
    and I pray you smile and are safe
    Until then I picture her in my life until such is the case
    can I kick it?

  4. #4
    Get Touched abiona's Avatar
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    Re: Challenge.3 :: Glosa

    for there was no great poem to write
    like the one you were when you slept
    Beautiful.

    Your words worked so well with the piece you chose as your cabeza. If a glosa is to add on to and extend the inspiration piece, you did such a great job of that. I really, really enjoyed this. It read so naturally, which is hard to do while juggling a somewhat random rhyme scheme AND matching up with lines borrowed from elsewhere.

    Two thumbs up! Glad you completed this!
    ArtificialIntelligence


    TNL
    ps... abi punchlines are played


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