Lester Graves Lennon wrote this:
We met at the West Chester Poetry Conference. A few weeks after that I attended the Squaw Valley Community of Writers poetry workshops. During the week I created what I believed to be a new poetry form. After running it past several poets including Forrest Gander, Dana Gioia, Bob Hass, Brenda Hillman, Evie Shockley and Tim Steele I feel confident it is new and am calling it (modestly) the Lennon Lyric. Kim Bridgford said you are always on the lookout for new forms and suggested I tell you about it.
Briefly, it is an 18 line poem with three 6 line stanzas. The first and last word of each line are the same (different words for different lines). The last line of the first and second stanzas have words that are close but not the same (dream/dreamer or angel/angelic). The first two poems I wrote were in blank verse and each was one sentence. Neither is required. Hope you might find of interest. Be happy to send you an example if you'd like.
LOVE IS TOO DANGEROUS
(for my wife)
Love is too dangerous to be called love
too eagerly when moon-pulled bodies too
easily fit and love songs easily
sung sing from synched star-glazed lips that have sung
before but not together, not before
angels embraced two for their Angelic
Order, dazed them with dazzling wings the Order
replaces quickly while dulled sun replaces
clear night with clouds, lost wings, light rains, the clear
threat of storm heavy weather with lightning threat
slashing perfection’s perfumed lyrics, slashing
dreams the rushed night held loosely until dreamers
awake to sleep-caked eyes, their fear awake
calling them apart but not, my love, calling
us loudly enough to call us from us,
angels, if there be angels we are angels,
knowing hard days will still hold moon nights knowing
love is too dangerous not to be love.
-- Lester Graves Lennon
THE PRICE TO PAY
We think there’s not a price for so long we
forget the price to pay does not forget
children’s smiles drugged to snarls to slaughter children
born to neglect in stunted nations born
straight lined for European ease of straight
access to diamonds, cobalt, gold in excess
riding our glittered path we have paved riding
our shock and awe relentlessly for our
superior needs our superior
arms guarantee to protect despite arms,
eyes, legs, lives innocents lose, finding eyes
seeing the innocence honed hardened seeding
school children filling magazines for school
killing we feed by easy grasp of killing
means we lament but blindly sell the means
battlefields need to clear the battlefields
we keep to keep empire, forgetting we
forget the price to pay does not forget.
-- Lester Graves Lennon
Meditation on Adolescence
She sat on the floor cross-legged,
knobby knees encased by denim, protruding
too far from her body like branches that forgot to stop
growing after the tree has died. She wore
mismatched fuzzy socks, a blue t-shirt preaching
WALK THE WALK, a phrase she pretended to understand.
She considered what it means
to be a teen in the twenty-first century. She
wondered if her mother or her mother’s
mother wondered if ugly words were true,
if they ever felt that youth was torture, if they
were ever curious about who the hell they really were
beneath the acne and the makeup and the hair gel.
She wanted to turn herself inside out
like a t-shirt ready for the wash, to proclaim that
the inner SHE was the better SHE,
that WE is just another word for “other people like me,”
a word spoken in the meanness of youth and the hard
edges of friendships that drift and change and shatter.
She didn’t know if she was sitting for prayer or meditation
or contemplation or simply for the silence of being
between ages, disconnected from the child, rejected by the adult.
She suspected that being a teen looked a lot different
for her mother and her mother’s mother because they,
unlike she, still wanted to be young.
Write a Lennon lyric