Poets are invited to perform two poems. A poet will have 3 minutes maximum to perform both poems.
The format and topics for the poems are:
1. One Free Verse poem about the topic “If only…”
2. One Catena Rondo about childhood. What was it like to be a Jewish child? You can revisit memories of early childhood or discuss later childhood and early adolescent years.
Winners will be chosen in the categories of “Best Poet,” “Best Poet Honorable Mention,” “Best Free Verse Poem,” “Best Catena Rondo Poem” and “Best Presenter.”
Poets will be judged based on, but not limited to, content, presentation, creativity, adherence to theme, adherence to form, time management, and originality.
Lunch will be served.
Catena Rondo - This form is the brainchild of Robin Skelton. It is a refrain-based Quatrain which uses repetition of lines to build itself. This creates a lyrical, almost melodic sounding poem. The opening line of stanza 1 is repeated as the last line of Stanza 1, and the second and third lines form a rhyming couplet. Lines 1 and 4 of Stanza 2 are line 2 of Stanza 1, Lines 1 and 4 of Stanza 3 are line 2 of Stanza 2, and so on. The stanzas fold in to each other, built around the middle rhyming couplet. Any number of stanzas can be created this way and the final stanza is a repeat of the first.
Essentially it looks like this: A. B. b. A..... B. C. c B…. C. D. d. C….(you can include however many stanzas you’d like) ... (ending with) A. B. b. A.....
There is no set meter. Here is an example:
This Unremitting Press (Catena Rondo)
This unremitting press of being poor—
complete with skills no affluence can train—
has meant the acquisition of no gain.
This unremitting press of being poor,
complete with skills no affluence can train—
this trudging on with trudging on—continues,
complete with time spent finding cheaper menus
(complete with skills no affluence can train).
This trudging on with trudging on continues—
unto what end my humor cannot guess,
smothered as it’s become by ambient stress.
This trudging on with trudging on continues—
unto what end my humor cannot guess
(for laughing at myself includes at Fate),
nor would it want to, lest it grow irate
(unto what end my humor cannot guess,
for laughing at myself includes at Fate).
The unkempt villain of my tragedy
has stirred no ounce of sympathy in me,
for laughing at myself includes at Fate,
the unkempt villain of my tragedy.
It’s never had a face! (I give it none.)
And yet by machination it’s become
the unkempt villain of my tragedy.
It’s never had a face: I give it none
this unremitting press of being poor
would recognize (I am myself its spoor).
It’s never had a face! (I give it none.)
This unremitting press of being poor—
complete with skills no affluence can train—
has meant the acquisition of no gain,
this unremitting press (of being poor).
© Gary Kent Spain, 3 years ago