Writing prompt of the day: Write a monotetra poem.

Writing prompt of the day: Write a monotetra poem.

The monotetra, created by Michael Walker, consists of two or more quatrains written in tetrameter (four metrical feet). Each stanza contains four mono-rhymed lines, each line eight syllables. A stanza’s final line repeats the same four syllables.

A monotetra of two stanzas looks like this:

8 syllables (a)

8 syllables (a)

8 syllables (a)

4 syllables, repeat 4 syllables (a)

8 syllables (b)

8 syllables (b)

8 syllables (b)

4 syllables, repeat 4 syllables (b)

Your challenge today is to write your own monotetra poem of two or more stanzas.

Here is my attempt to write a monotetra:

For mists reversed

Gray mist entrapped a tiny town

When, ‘fraid to dream, these folks shut down,

Their children’s thoughts and feelings drowned,

Themselves they bound, themselves they bound.

Until the mayor’s girl unearthed

The secret of this town accursed.

A hidden door induced a thirst

For mists reversed, for mists reversed.

In father’s office took the key,

Up to the door she ran carefree

The outcome she could not foresee

What will it be, what will it be?

The open door revealed a book

Of woven dreams and forest nooks,

A set of paints, a filled notebook,

These tools she took, these tools she took.

She illustrated worlds in words,

Shaped tales of magic undeterred.

Above the gray her voice emerged,

But no one heard, but no one heard.

“I can’t give up,” she bravely said.

“They need these words or life is dead.

I’ll paint the pictures in my head,

The colors spread, the colors spread.”

She smeared her mind upon the walls,

As people slept, she stained town hall

In words remembered, tales recalled

From notebook scrawls, from notebook scrawls.

The town woke up to morning sun,

The mist was gone, the curse undone.

They gathered at the wall as one,

‘Round what she’d done, ‘round what she’d done.

“How bold the blue and loud the greens!

Is this allowed? Will it demean

The town’s repute for thoughts unseen?”

She intervened, she intervened.

“Dear townsfolk, can you feel my pain,

my happiness, my heart’s refrain?

I painted all our feelings plain

With no restrain, with no restrain.”

They said, “More stories we require,

We want more words and we admire

Your passion, now we too desire,

Our minds inquire, our minds inquire.”

The mayor smiled upon his girl,

“In fear, we all tried not to feel,

To think, imagine, live with zeal,

But now we’re healed, but now we’re healed.”

The girl gave brushes, paint, and ink,

To everyone, and with a wink,

Yelled, “Let us paint the whole precinct

A shade of pink, a shade of pink!”

And since that day, the town is known

For stories, magic, colored stones,

Instead of stifled children’s groans,

The mist o’rthrown, the mist o’rthrown.

Your turn! Share your monotetra in the comments below when you are done.

Keep freeing that writer,

Rachel

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