The Triolet Trail

Cursing the turns, and Old compass,
steady now. God, grant an even keel.
He sets his sights on distant lights One pass--
cursing the turns and old compass,
spinner askew and She cracks, you ass!
You, who once sailed by the feel!
Cursing the turns and old compass
Steady now, God. Grant an even keel...

Steady now, God. Grant an even keel
as if your prayers could save us all from ruin
and even now, he somehow holds appeal.
Steady now, God. Grant an even keel.
Impossible with that man at the wheel
and even worse: he don't care what he's doin'.
Steady now, God. Grant an even keel
as if your prayers could save us all from ruin.

As if your prayers could save us, all from ruin
we rose. When you thought we had been buried, dead,
we swarmed. You pondered paths not worth pursuing
as if your prayers could save us all from ruin.
You surrendered, Nero with his violin,
fiddling while barbarians burned the masthead,
as if your prayers could save us all. From ruin
we rose when you thought we had been buried, dead.

BUMP

Is anyone able to use that line? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

CDSinex said:

BUMP

Is anyone able to use that line? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Click to expand...

Sure. Give me a couple minutes while I remember how to write a triolet. Be back soon.

Here ya go, David:

We rose. When you thought we had been buried, dead
beyond all reasonable doubt, our phoenix flew.
Queasy killer, you turned away from blood's spread.
We rose when you thought we had been buried, dead.
Now your life is forfeit when all is done and said.
Death's touch comes with the last kiss of morning dew.
We rose when you thought we had been buried. Dead
beyond all reasonable doubt, our phoenix flew.

I switched the meter to 8 beats. This is not a good poem, but I'm tired of trying to fix it.

Beyond all reasonable doubt, our phoenix flew
o'er the ashes from whence it came.
It had arisen this we knew,
beyond all reasonable doubt. Our phoenix flew
soaring so high, then out of view,
then swooping back down, taking aim.
Beyond all reasonable doubt, our phoenix flew,
o'er the ashes from whence it came.

[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]Over the ashes from whence it came,[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]I dusted off my newfound rock.[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]Burning, blinding days I proclaim[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]over. The ashes from whence it came[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]fell away; reflected the flame.[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]I blessed and placed it in my stock.[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]Over the ashes from whence it came,[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]I dusted off my newfound rock.[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
[/FONT]

I dust off my newfound rock.
Glimmers in the rain I walk
cannot quench this desert shock.
I dust. Off my newfound rock
slides my tears, my hopes, my talk
of dreams and drawings of chalk.
I dust off. My newfound rock
glimmers in the rain. I walk.

Glimmers in the rain: I walk
mountain trails of failed futures.
I survived; no boastful squawk
glimmers. In the rain, I walk—
kick a can, brown bottle, rock.
Disfigured row of sutures
glimmers in the rain. I walk.
Mounting trails of failed futures.

“Mounting trails of failed futures”?
Is not the way to start a hike
away from those paths? These burglars
mounting trails of failed futures
bound to violence that was nurtured:
sutures inflamed, in chest a spike.
Mounting trails of failed futures
is not the way to start a hike.

Is not the way to start a hike
upon a path less traveled on?
Wielding torches, breeding dislike
is not the way. To start a hike
we must look up, become childlike,
enflame the guide in our hearts. Gone
is not the way to start a hike
upon a path less traveled on.

Upon a path less traveled on
misty words shatter dreaming eyes.
Gutted souls lost in crawling dawn
upon a path less traveled on.
Thin slicing blades of grasses gone
an averted gaze once was wise.
Upon a path less traveled on
misty words shatter dreaming eyes.

**first attempt, thought I'd give it a go....kind thanks to the experienced writers here who have given such encouragement! It's appreciated.

[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]Misty words shatter dreaming eyes.[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]Point to where reflection begins[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]in an ocean of darkened skies.[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]Misty words shatter. Dreaming eyes[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]snap shut in a rain of goodbyes.[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]Remember the looking-glass grins[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]misty words shatter, dreaming. Eyes[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot]point to where reflection begins.[/FONT][/FONT]

Happy 2019 fellow AbsoluteWriters!

Point to where reflection begins
to change direction of a heart.
On your last legs? Drowning in sin?
Point to where reflection begins.
Waiting for new ships to come in?
Clamming-up? Still - it’s no start.
Point to where reflection begins
to change direction of a heart.

Happy New Year!

(I have never written a triolet this quickly. Perhaps it's a good omen.)

To change direction of a heart,
a compass could prove quite dandy.
You'll need a map and place to start,
to change direction. Of a heart,
there's neither schematic nor chart
(though either might come in handy)
To change direction of a heart,
a compass could prove quite dandy.

A compass could prove quite dandy
when shadows fail inspiration,
and moss on a tree is sandy.
A compass could prove quite dandy
and along with maps they're handy,
except for monarch migration.
A compass could prove quite dandy
when shadows fail inspiration.

When shadows fail inspiration,
find a place in the sun to write.
The warmth coaxes respiration
when shadows fail. Inspiration
breathes in the imagination.
Open all windows in the night
(when shadows fail inspiration).
Find a place in the sun to write.

Find a place in the sun to write
poems to float out to the sea.
If addressed right, your bottle might
find a place. In the sun, to write
the words then abandon your sight
of its destination is key.
Find a place in the sun to write
poems to float out to the sea.

Poems to float out to the sea
simply drift away in warm swells
past soft sand brushed lips. Setting free
poems to float out to the sea
return as misted crest to me.
Longing words where my spirit dwells,
poems to float out to the sea
simply drift away in warm swells.

Oh my God.

You all are doing exquisite things.

Simply drift away in warm swells
of fleeting thoughts. Where dreams reside
on English shores. The gathered shells
simply drift away. In warm swells.
Memory. Our stone cottage dwells
where hedgerows weep. The tears love cried
simply drift away in warm swells
of fleeting thoughts. Where dreams reside.

of fleeting thoughts where dreams reside
and kisses are catastrophes
a lover leapt into the tide
of fleeting thoughts where dreams reside

she said she loved me, but she lied
and left me drifting on the seas
of fleeting thoughts where dreams reside
and kisses are catastrophes

And kisses are catastrophes
of time. Love stands still leaving
desperation. Sagacity
and kisses are catastrophes
with complete incapacity
for reality. Lone grieving
and kisses are catastrophes
of time. Love stands still leaving.

of time, love stands still, leaving
music and two empty glasses.
drunk and alone and believing
of time, love stands still. leaving

for the parking lot, and weaving
through the exit, he has masses
of time. love stands still, leaving
music and two empty glasses.