“That doesn’t sound like fun at all,” I answered. “I have deadlines coming out my wazoo! I don’t have time for an in depth study of poetic form.” The voice was quieted but not gone. A few days later it returned.
“Explore all the poetry styles you can find,” said what I decided must be a sadistic muse. “Write a poem in each style.”
“Have you seen my schedule?” I answered. “Deadlines everywhere! I’m a full-time writer now. I don’t have time for kooky ideas.” The voice didn’t answer, but I could feel a smug smile behind it. She knew I was hooked.
So here I am, writing poetry during the witching hour. To start, I’ve settled on 52 styles ranging from acrostic and other sequence poems to the ominous villanelle. For fun, I’m combining all these into one, monster poem. I shall call it an eclepic—an eclectic epic.
So far I have seven—a fibonacci sequence, ballad, ballade, cinquain, couplet, epigram and haiku. If I finish writing this, and I can read it all in less than ten minutes, I think I’ll (try) to perform it at the next TV Dinner Theater. It could be spectacular, or just a spectacle. I’ll worry about that later.
Right now I have 45 poems to go. Here’s one, A Day for Frogs, inspired by our recent rains.