In our constant effort to expand your horizons and challenge your minds, I have uncovered another form that may be new (or unheard of) but dates back to days of old when knights were bold.
The MINNESANG (Middle High German - minne = love) is a courtly love poem. But it was usually depicting unrequited love. The verse was cultivated by the nobility, and often built around the theme of a brave knight’s attempt to court a lady who doesn’t return his favor.
The Minnesang was meant to be sung but the melodies were not well documented and mostly only lyrics are left.
The defining features of the Minnesang are:
- stanzaic, written in uniform stanzas although the number of lines in the stanza per poem is variable, sixains were popular.
- metric, often iambic tetrameter with the last line of each stanza a longer Germanic line (Long lines written in a minimum of 7 metric feet, Accentual meter and often composed as 2 short lines in 1 usually separated by caesura) , iambic heptameter or octameter.
- rhymed, variable rhyme schemes were used, ababcc was common another was abbcaa .
See Poetry Magnum Opus: http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/index.php?showtopic=1900
MARIE ELENA’S EXAMPLE:
JUNIOR HIGH IS NOT FOR THE WEAK OF HEART
You’d speak my name, my heart would pulse and pound.
Your smile made my own grow wider still.
I had to force my feet to stay aground,
A grueling task, for how to mask my thrill?
I had a crush on you, as crushes go.
You gave me notice, but you had no desire to be my beau.
Your eyes were focused on my friend Elaine,
You wanted me to point her to your heart
I did your bidding, though it caused me pain
You took my heart, and yanked it all apart.
I’m sure you didn’t realize how it hurt
I never revealed my crush. I’d never learned to flirt.
Copyright © – Marie Elena Good – 2012
WALT’S EXAMPLE:
LADY FAIR NOT THERE
I used to think this kind of love
was like a game of give and take.
It seems to me you need a shove,
that tells me that’s my first mistake.
So I stand here, my head is bowed,
my heart is covered quite completely by this heavy shroud.
I never thought that love would die,
but I’ve been wrong a time before.
It saddens me, my fervent cry
has cut so deeply to my core.
And so we’re through, if you can’t tell.
I wish to say quite frankly dear, that you can go to hell!
Copyright © – Walter J. Wojtanik 2012
Robert Lee Brewer’s prompt is up as well. He asks us to write a “sudden” poem. Can you write a sudden Minnesang? Hmmm ….
October 3rd, 2012 at 1:21 AM
walt – you are really rough on that poor girl!
This form is set to be a challenge. You both gave us a great start.
October 3rd, 2012 at 7:30 AM
Yes.
October 3rd, 2012 at 12:45 PM
Marie, I believe that unrequited love should be a prerequesite of finding lasting love later in life, because it makes you so much more aware of the necessity to be demonstrative with your affection. I’m backing up this statement with my 10+ years of real-life experience with unrequited love
Marjory is right, Walt – you are pretty rough on that poor girl, regardless of whether she deserves that shove
October 4th, 2012 at 11:30 PM
LOL, Andra! Hang in there!
Marie Elena
October 3rd, 2012 at 2:29 AM
“Minnesang”
My eyes are filled with tears and in disgrace
My lady shows her love in strong disguise.
She cast a dismal eye upon my face
My loyalty to her staunchly survive.
She cast a loving glance upon my horse.
And now my horse is traitor to my course.
Oh, earth will groan, complain a lesser berth.
The space our love fills overwhelms the skies.
My love is so much larger than this earth
My lady looks askance at all my lies
Pretends my steed a weak competitor
He neighs and tilts his eyes to lady more.
I journey from the town of Mantua.
My name is Don Quixote, from afar.
October 3rd, 2012 at 12:50 PM
Jacqueline, I like your rendition of Don Quixote’s predicament. When I was “freshly in love”, I sometimes had the feeling that the world would burst with the intensity of my feelings – you expressed that sentiment so well in the second stanza: “Oh, earth will groan, complain a lesser berth. / The space our love fills overwhelms the skies.” I also like the way you handled the role of Don Quixote’s horse in this poem
October 3rd, 2012 at 1:45 PM
Alas, the poor fool! For the world does conspire.
October 3rd, 2012 at 12:33 PM
Here’s my attempt:
Dein echtes Minnelied
Upon a dank and withered road,
our footsteps crossed for a scant mile -
you stumbled on my heart’s abode
and scattered music through your smile.
With lucent harp against my knee,
my voice was made to string you songs
from sea to glist’ning sea.
Entranced by wisps of your hard gaze,
I severed all my wordly ties
to plant stray roots of secret praise
and wait for lustrous trees to rise.
I’d bind their branches to my glee
and sway their manes along my song
from sea to glist’ning sea.
Though unversed men may pass me by
and find me no room in their homes,
have time’s waves cast me far and high,
mislay my name ‘twixt dusty tomes,
if fragments of these songs flow free
my joy shall blossom through each cloud
from sea to glist’ning sea.
© Andra-Teodora Negroiu, 2012
October 3rd, 2012 at 8:52 PM
Delightfully penned. — I also like your repeted use of the last line.
October 4th, 2012 at 2:45 AM
Thank you, Marjory!
October 4th, 2012 at 11:02 PM
Andra,
This is such a tender, sad song. I LOVE it. So many great lines ‘With lucent harp against my knee,
my voice was made to string you songs
from sea to glist’ning sea.’ and then…you know what? I can’t find a favorite line, The whole poem is STUNNING!
October 5th, 2012 at 4:52 PM
Janet, thank you for your kind appraisal! That line was the first thing I wrote and I kind of built the rest of the poem around it. Also, I don’t necessarily see it as a sad song, because talking about the person you love is wonderful, regardless of whether your love is requited.
October 5th, 2012 at 10:26 AM
Lovely, Andra!
October 5th, 2012 at 4:50 PM
Thank you, Kelly!
October 3rd, 2012 at 12:48 PM
“Entranced by wisps of your hard gaze…” Lovely…
October 3rd, 2012 at 12:50 PM
Thank you, Henrietta!
October 3rd, 2012 at 1:33 PM
Well, I thought I’d try
Sunrise, and the moon’s a cool-faced witch.
So what if the heat is pitch-thick and slow–
the moon is cool as ice on a ditch,
and hollow and blue going home, her blush is just the dawn.
We weren’t that much as stories go.
Sometimes we’d watch moonrise, and kiss,
or make love as the moon settled low.
No big thing to miss or mention; just the moon on two friends.
Some nights are a party, some a song,
and some a roll–sweaty, and unplanned.
Don’t I know that the moon’s face, long
blue, empty and chilled, at dawn is the same face as mine.
October 3rd, 2012 at 2:03 PM
I love your metaphors, Barbara, particularly the way you cycle the image of the moon through all three stanzas.
October 3rd, 2012 at 8:55 PM
Well done. Interesting play on words.
October 4th, 2012 at 7:45 AM
This is great! That line ‘just a moon on two friends’ is loaded. I LOVE it! Love the setting.
October 4th, 2012 at 9:22 AM
It’s bad enough to have typos, but to let a big one stand this long…sheesh!
the moon is cool as ice lace on a ditch
October 3rd, 2012 at 5:35 PM
I will return to read more slowly later. Walt and Marie, when I read your poems this morning I laughed out loud! Walt, you heart-breaker;)) and Marie, you dear school-pal!
I commented this morning but when I was waiting for my comment to post the internet disappeared. It returned here before supper;( , on the bright side, I had lots of time to have fun with the prompt!…
Emaciation
You keen my senses, remove my defenses
Ravish perception like a tree in the fall
My mind is blind to half-love recompenses
I drink foolish hope from its chalice half-full
While subtly you strip the smile from my lip
I remain, a devoted beggar on your fingertip
Beneath your caress, casually you undress
The dearest and deepest measures of my heart
But I am a fool and oh, you are so cool
I gulp the pleasure purposed blindness imparts
While you seem to linger just out of my reach
From the tip of your finger I beg and beseech
You move through me, an invisible tempest
While my wanton tears wash your body; your feet
I do not feel the chill of disinterest
Until you have stripped me; your mission complete
I cannot hide; my emaciated form
Stands exposed; naked limbs reach to embrace sorrow’s storm
© Janet Martin
Flood to Famine
You come to me a bit like that
A deluge pelting my reserve
You trickle in beneath my hat
To claim what you think you deserve
I cannot resist you so I allow you slip
Like raindrops on a window over my parched lips
Who taught you to be a reckless thief?
Your boldness startles demure poise
And you will surely be my mother’s grief
She warned me, ‘daughter, watch out for those boys’
For you are not a placid, gentle-noon’s rainfall
You are a rebel; a ‘let’s jump from a plane and free-fall’
You came to me a bit like that
I grew accustomed to your style
So I pick out my favorite hat
And wait for you; it’s been a while
The sun grows hot, so hot; and I begin to doubt
Nobody taught me what to do in case of drought
Janet Martin
Life-Gems
I hope you come to me
Completely un-rushed
For I need you next to me
But not hurried or pushed
How do we love each other; let’s count the ways
Time is a priceless commodity these days
I hope you stop long enough
Oh, I hope you stay
Until we have run out of
All we need to say
And even then, you would find no reason to leave
As we listen to the night slipping over the eve
Moments are life-gems
We cannot count or number
Or know how many of them
Fill time’s vault ‘til we slumber
True sorrow is looking back to yesterday
Regretting the life-gems we threw away
© Janet Martin
Te Amo, Te Quiero (Yes, it should be German;)
You discard each rampart that I secure
You breathe; I melt, acquiescent in your gaze
Your presence is more than I can endure
Yet, like a moth to flame I seek its blaze
Drawn to you, I thirst; love’s gall is bittersweet
For you remain oblivious; I wallow at your feet
“O senor, Te amo, O, Te quiero
Me Encantas,’ aw, what is the use
You hang your hat over my heart’s window
Completely untaken by my Spanish ruse
I watch from behind you but you don’t turn around
So I must follow; an invisible shadow on the ground
Would one tiny glance be too noble a favor?
Is there any chance; or am I doomed unseen?
Must I remain at your mercy forever
To die in the hollow of what might have been?
I have one ploy left; ah, leave it to me
Senor, I will attempt to seduce you with poetry
© Janet Martin
October 3rd, 2012 at 9:00 PM
Whheee- you have been a busy gal on the poet writing today. Well, done.
“….Moments are life-gems
we cannot count or number…”
October 4th, 2012 at 1:04 AM
Yes, great line!!
October 4th, 2012 at 2:49 AM
“Ravish perception like a tree in the fall” – love all of them, Janet, but this line is by far my favorite!
October 4th, 2012 at 9:19 AM
Wow. quality AND quantity.
October 4th, 2012 at 11:04 PM
Thank-you all! I am enjoying each and every poem here when the internet will allow it;((
October 3rd, 2012 at 9:22 PM
MINNE-SANG
I sit and gaze at you
longing for your embrace,
be one with you not two.
My hands your surface trace
To you I will be true.
Yet, of my presence, you have no clue.
You pass me unconcerned,
as if I non-exist.
My love for you unlearned,
my ‘tenting you resist.
No matter long I’ve stayed,
over me, you ocean-heart prefers the prim mermaid.
October 4th, 2012 at 1:07 AM
October 4th, 2012 at 2:47 AM
Unrequited love is so frustrating sometimes … nice poem.
October 4th, 2012 at 7:43 AM
Love it. esp. this
‘You pass me unconcerned,
as if I non-exist.
My love for you unlearned,’
October 4th, 2012 at 8:31 PM
Fate Sealed with a Kiss
Since seventh grade you caught my eye
The twinkle of those baby blues
The problem was that I was shy
Around you my face did turn hues
Of red and sometimes even green
With envy for your lovely date, the homecoming queen.
But prom was yet to come, I knew.
I had a date, but he backed out,
He knew I had a thing for you.
My dream date, yes, I had no doubt
Although something did seem a miss
You were quite a bore, full of yourself, AND you couldn’t kiss!
© KED 2012
October 4th, 2012 at 11:05 PM
October 5th, 2012 at 4:54 PM
Nice poem
I guess this unrequited love ended optimistically after all, because you’re definitely better off without him.
October 4th, 2012 at 11:39 PM
Muses milked, making marvelous minnesang melodies — many meriting medals!
Marie
October 7th, 2012 at 7:08 PM
Late to the party! Busy with my own!
Messages
He comes to me arms filled with blooms
to make my eyes light up with joy,
so many flowers from one boy
who’s hoping to create a mood
with chocolate, which he consumes,
hoping it leads to sleeping rooms.
I cannot thwart so keen a heart
who arms himself with sweet cliché
and dreams to steal my heart away,
but household help he still rejects
as woman’s labor a la carte—
paying a maid would be a start.
What men assume a woman needs
is often so far off the mark
like farming camels in a park,
when our desires are oft mundane—
lawn care or vacuuming, such deeds
create the feast where loving feeds.
October 17th, 2012 at 4:15 PM
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