Poem–Magnificent Seven–“Chisholm”

I had the most terrible idea while I was struggling to come up with a blog post for the week. Yes, I could have just skipped -I doubt anyone would notice- but this idea came to me and I couldn’t pass it up.

I realized that there are seven months until National Poetry Month in April. And I wrote a poem about each member of the Magnificent Seven (2016) as an exercise to experiment with more poetry forms.

Do you see where I’m going here?

Yes! I will be subjecting you to my bad poetry outside of the confines of the month of April. I will be posting my Magnificent Seven poems on a monthly basis as a way to lead into National Poetry Month. Aren’t you excited?

I’m sure you’re ecstatic.

To make it worse, I’m going to go identify and explain the poetic form I chose for each poem.

No doubt you’re tingling with anticipation by now, so let’s get to it.

The first poem I’m posting is actually the last one I wrote for the Seven. I decided on a sonnet for Chisholm. You might remember that from English class when you were studying Shakespeare. 14 lines, usually rhymes, often has iambic pentameter. I managed the 14 lines and the traditional ababcdcdefefgg rhyme scheme, but aside from getting 10 syllables a line, really didn’t go hard for the iambic pentameter.

Close enough for bad poetry.

I also totally admit to incorporating a line from the movie into the poem. It was too good not to.

Chisholm

A man in black riding alone, trouble
he finds for his wage. Come the day
an offer is made and from precious rubble
emerges an old monster to be slain.
The promise of gold no match for his past,
he rounds up others who cannot resist
the lure of this flame, this fight to the last.
A challenge. Now his reason to exist.
Plans well laid, graves well dug, vengeance well sought
to save a home not his for one he lost.
Blood that’s spilled added to battles he’s fought,
the price he’s paid multiplies in its cost.
What the fires consumed, lost in flashes,
he finds it again sifting through ashes.