Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Let's All Write Bouts-rimés: Poem the Final- Judy

Way back before the Pleistocene Epoch, back in the haziest mists of time, I started a project where I would work through Ron Padgett's book A Handbook of Poetic Forms.  The project was to write a poem for every form represented in the text.  I got through the end of the letter 'B.'

To be fair, I never willfully stopped doing the project and, therefore, in my own mind was still doing the project.  However, I think it was about a year ago when I first mentioned the Bouts-rimés topic.  I received a great deal of response from people who wanted me to write a poem using their list of rhyming words and, being a softie, I chose to attempt to write one for everyone who participated.  Then, time continued to march on.  I wrote a few and, a few months later, wrote a few more.  And then...

So, I intended to write the remaining poems and then continue the project, but found that one of the remaining two (I think) has disappeared.  I knew the book in which I had placed the list, but it was no longer in that book.  That was my friend Kari's list of suggestions.  I apologize, but we are moving on.  If I find that list in the future, I will write the poem and post it, but for now I have written a poem for Judy's list.  After this, we move on to other forms.

For some reason, I kept thinking of Flashman when meditating on these sets of rhymes and decided to pick the narrative voice of a man fleeing from serving his country in battle.

Called from the comfort of my duvet
to Her Majesty's service in parts near Bombay.
Patriotic sentiment precludes a "no way."
I packed my essentials and fled in dismay
with a rucksack of Talisker and set for croquet.
Took discretion for valor, then took the highway
in hopes from my duty that road would convey
my heart and my hind where they might be okay
lest on some far battleground they should decay.
My hope for a future rose like a soufflé.
All duty to country I felt I've prepaid
by ensuring my life for a henceforth of todays.
Laying low, unobserved, on outlaying roadways,
I'd be better employed sniffing future bouquets.

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