Love
it strikes
like a bolt of lightening
out of the blue
and we are left
wondering
where to hide the bodies
This is a repost that seems to fit OSP (One Stop Poetry) Friday Poetically's theme. Click on the title to go there.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Used
To step into the used book store
and breathe in that bewitching scent
I know my paycheck’s all but spent.
Perhaps I’m just an old book whore
but urgently they call to me
insatiably, I must have more.
Not safe and not expedient,
to step into the used book store.
This is written in the form called Octain, created by Luke Prater. It has a rhyme scheme of
A-b-b a-c/c-a b-A, with the 'A' meaning that line is repeated, and the 'c/c' being a line with internal rhyme. Also each line has 8 syllables, ideally iambic tetrameter. The photo is from Magpie Taleshttp://magpietales.blogspot.com/2011/05/mag-66.html (#66) where Tess Kincade gives a weekly writing prompt. Thank you both.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Mag # 65
Giovanni
decadent boy
you have
the divine spark.
My peace I give unto you.
Fioretti along the path,
count each blade of grass
as your miracle
Down through the years
this shall be our rule of life:
give - give it all away.
Birds, beasts, powerless poor
treat with most exquisite tenderness
Brother Sun sing your canticle
Sister Moon shine bright, precious and beautiful
Sister Death simplify all
Stripped down
decanted
pierced
enter the fire
and emerge
Francis
*Written for Magpie Tales, where Tess Kincade provides a photo prompt. Click on title to see.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
May - Sunday Scribblings #266
May
Buds swell on the stalk
greening, growing opening
tasting sun and rain and wind
sweet-talking Summer
take my hand and follow me
all we have is potential
This poetic form is called Sedoka, which consists of two shorter poems, called katautas, smoothed together. A katauta is a three line poem that has a syllabic pattern of 5/7/7. So of course the Sedoka has 38 syllables over six lines that read as 5/7/7/5/7/7.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Angie
The following poem is probably the most difficult I have written thus far, for two reasons. First and most importantly, it's about the death of a dear friend. The other reason is the form of this poem. It was created by Luke Prater, who's blog is called WordSalad, and can be found here: http://lukepraterswordsalad.com/
The sepcifications for this form are:
14 lines, 14 syllables per line – aBaBcDcDcDeFeF
where lowercase are iambic heptameter (7 units of two syllables each, unstressed-stressed, per line), and uppercase trochaic heptameter(7 units of two syllables each, stressed-unstressed, per line). This yields a perfect ‘checkerboard’ of stressed and unstressed syllables (14 x 14, equalling 196 syllables). Depending on where the Volta arrives (the ‘turn’ – resolution, or at least, change in tone) there are several different stanza layouts, which I will spare you.
So, finally, here is the poem itself:
I’m standing at the vestibule between the here and there;
lately I’ve been spending time among the dead and dying,
so many of the ones I love have stepped through to that lair.
Just last week another left me reminiscing, sighing.
My talk-a-mile-a-minute Angie left so much unsaid.
Cancer ate her breasts, then liver faster than we reckoned;
I never knew, although time flew, how soon she would be dead.
Skin as orange as Betadine, insistent death had beckoned,
But she found peace before she left, she whispered without dread.
Blinking, looking face to face I said, ‘Another second.’
Though I don’t get to choose the time that’s best to come or go
Fifty-four years doesn’t seem like long enough for living;
but which of us can know with certainty what’s apropos?
Kismet chooses for us without caring or forgiving.
This has been linked to One Stop Poetry's One Shot Wednesday. Click on the poem title to go there where you will find a group of talented poets that you can read and/or join.
The sepcifications for this form are:
14 lines, 14 syllables per line – aBaBcDcDcDeFeF
where lowercase are iambic heptameter (7 units of two syllables each, unstressed-stressed, per line), and uppercase trochaic heptameter(7 units of two syllables each, stressed-unstressed, per line). This yields a perfect ‘checkerboard’ of stressed and unstressed syllables (14 x 14, equalling 196 syllables). Depending on where the Volta arrives (the ‘turn’ – resolution, or at least, change in tone) there are several different stanza layouts, which I will spare you.
So, finally, here is the poem itself:
I’m standing at the vestibule between the here and there;
lately I’ve been spending time among the dead and dying,
so many of the ones I love have stepped through to that lair.
Just last week another left me reminiscing, sighing.
My talk-a-mile-a-minute Angie left so much unsaid.
Cancer ate her breasts, then liver faster than we reckoned;
I never knew, although time flew, how soon she would be dead.
Skin as orange as Betadine, insistent death had beckoned,
But she found peace before she left, she whispered without dread.
Blinking, looking face to face I said, ‘Another second.’
Though I don’t get to choose the time that’s best to come or go
Fifty-four years doesn’t seem like long enough for living;
but which of us can know with certainty what’s apropos?
Kismet chooses for us without caring or forgiving.
This has been linked to One Stop Poetry's One Shot Wednesday. Click on the poem title to go there where you will find a group of talented poets that you can read and/or join.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Sunday Scribbling #265 - Cake
Sitting here beside myself,
Myself, I said to me
How and why and wherefore
Did this ever come to be?
I might be spoiled just a bit
I know that may be true,
But just between myself and me
Honestly, I just don’t see,
Why I can’t have my cake and eat it too!
This little piece is for the promp 'cake' from Sunday Scribblings.
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