The Triolet Trail

Within spans of evolution so wide,
how strange that you and I should meet;
that our lifespans should coincide
within spans of evolution so wide
among the billions who've lived and died --
our embrace so fleeting yet so sweet.
Within spans of evolution so wide,
how strange that you and I should meet.

How strange you and I should meet
at this board, table, on this night
of arctic-icy freezing sleet.
How strange you and I should meet
under the same stars after sunset
ice-skating around the moon's light.
How strange you and I should meet
at this board, table, on this night.

At this board table, on this night,
I shall quietly watch and wait --
wait for when the time is right.
At this board table, on this night,
I'll let you boast about your might,
then calmly take your queen, and mate.
At this board table, on this night,
I shall quietly watch and wait.

I shall quietly watch, and wait
until the moon is full of spells
corralled inside the starry gate.
I shall quietly watch and wait
for the hounds to unleash our fate.
Who will sound the crashing of cells?
I shall; quietly. Watch and wait
until the moon is full of spells.

Until the moon is full, of spells
I cast, my heart aside, to bleed
is just the start. Suffering swells
until the moon is full. Of spells
and spills the witch in me foretells.
Once past, the curse cannot be freed
until the moon is. Full of spells,
I cast my heart aside to bleed.

I cast my heart aside to bleed
tears for a mustang life now lost.
My horse will not be under me
for one last Calgary stampede.
Within his stall I shall recede.
Into fodder a prayer that's glossed
I cast. My heart-aside to bleed
tears for a mustang life now lost.

For a mustang, life now lost.
Feral friend walked together
to the hills. Narrow paths, we crossed.
For a mustang, life now lost.
Last neigh before last ride giving last
rear. Closing its eyes like light feather.
For a mustang, life now lost.
Feral friend walked together.

Feral friends had walked together
foraging the alleys. Wound up
from the scrapes beneath the leather,
feral friends had walked. Together,
they could keep warm in bad weather
(just like that bitch teaches each pup,
feral). Friends had walked together,
foraging. The alleys wound up.

Foraging the alleys wound up
a narrow path with bushes and sounds.
Chimp’s chortle, hippo’s hiccup.
Foraging the alleys, wound up
in boring me. Till a rock read, ‘Wassup!’
Missed ma pals, the urban towns.
Foraging the alleys wound up
a narrow path with bushes and sounds.

A narrow path with bushes and sounds
winds away from the wizard's castle.
Armies of revenge gather around
a narrow path. With bushes and sounds
and torches, we raid his holy ground.
Then bolting from the evil hassle...
a narrow path with bushes and sounds
winds away from the wizard's castle.

Winds, away from the wizard's castle,
carry the song of his magical reign.
Enemies of order stir the facile
winds away from the wizard's. Castle
affinity awaits the true vassal.
Voices of love expunge the inhumane
winds away. From the wizard's castle,
carry the song of his magical reign.

carry the song of his magical reign
losing yourself in his lies;
learn to live with the depths of his pain,
carry the song of his magical reign.
with silver tongue he'll deftly explain,
swooning, you'll comply;
carry the song of his magical reign,
losing yourself in his lies.

losing yourself in his lies
the bewildering swirl begins;
every anchor so quickly flies,
losing yourself in his lies.
the end, love freely given dies.
each embrace, each kiss, all sins;
losing yourself in his lies
the bewildering swirl begins.

the bewildering swirl begins
intoxicated by passion's want;
when guard of caution ends,
the bewildering swirl begins.
once just casual friends,
now reeling in flirtatious flaunt,
the bewildering swirl begins
intoxicated by passion's want.

Intoxicated by passion's want,
she thought him pure; free of disease.
A face once fair, now pale and gaunt,
intoxicated by passion's want,
does not allure so much as daunt.
She ought to leave, but aches to please,
intoxicated by passion's want.
She thought him pure; free of disease.

she thought him pure, free of disease:
a figure, charcoal and ether,
snaking through her thorned memories.
she thought him pure, free of disease,

like greek poems, scratched centuries
ago in cave-dust. Believe her,
she thought him pure: free of disease,
a figure, charcoal and ether.

A figure, charcoal and ether,
rockets beyond the scope of our vision.
All the burning world religions feature
a figure. Charcoal and ether
smoldering our brains into a seizure,
feeds the yearning. Fueling the collision:
a figure, charcoal, and ether
rockets beyond the scope of our vision.

Rockets beyond the scope of our vision
Riches beyond the sum of our balance
Holiday in France. Difficult decision
Rockets beyond the scope of our vision
Cheer the pilot and tickets are forgiven
Juggle the cents. Enrich your talents
Rockets beyond the scope of our vision
Riches beyond the sum of balance

Riches beyond the sum of our balance,
smearing our greed like a sexual salve,
blurring the limits of ethics and talents.
Riches beyond the sum of our balance,
selling ourselves is longer a dalliance;
anything to amass more than we have:
riches beyond the sum of our balance.
Smearing our greed like a sexual salve.

Smearing our greed like a sexual salve -
healing the cracks - enlivens the clay
to grow the seed, makes more loaves to halve.
Smearing our greed like a sexual salve
warms the rough seas, causes glaciers to calve
from the cold mass. Not all frontiers decay
smearing our greed. Like a sexual salve,
healing the cracks enlivens the clay.

In Japan, kintsugi (gold mending) is a method of repairing broken pottery using gold to hold the shards together. The Wiki link explains it in detail, if anyone is interested.


Healing the cracks enlivens the clay
as broken memories are made whole
again. Inlaid gold, the craftsman's way,
healing. The cracks enliven the clay,
as melancholy in the lines they
set, reaches out and touches the soul,
healing. The cracks enliven the clay
as broken memories are made whole.

As broken memories are made whole,
we learn to walk softly with our thoughts,
so not to declare the holy mole
as broken. Memories are made whole
when you embrace as your own, the troll,
who lives under bridges we must cross.
As broken memories are made whole,
we learn: to walk softly with our thoughts...

This here is a string of marvelous triolets. Applause to you all.

poetinahat said:

This here is a string of marvelous triolets. Applause to you all.

Click to expand...

Seconded!

We learn to walk softly with our thoughts
well hidden from those who nod and smile.
The lessons that life sees are well taught
we learn. To walk softly with our thoughts
ignoring the soft pleas that we ought
to open up— no man is an isle.
We learn to walk softly with our thoughts
well hidden from those who nod and smile.