Summer dances, space and earth entwine, With heated coral velvets and currant wine, In sunset is how Sol bows and takes His leave, Thus, His lover ascends in Her night weave Where verdant grounds in dark align, As Nyx doth claim Her right divine
For this week’s prompt, Dee (aka WhimsyGizmo) has perusing a pithy, prestigious little nugget of a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words not including the title, but must include some fun or fanatic use of the prompt word “Summer”.
A strong hand, with stronger words to part Things that all who knew you well can attest Yet beneath it all, was a kind solid heart If he called you friend you were blessed Knowing that you were leaving Doesn’t help much now that you’ve gone An honest friend here lies at rest
So I can smile because you have lived And for this life lived, you lived to the best That is legacy, you have to give To call you Father I was blessed Knowing that you were leaving Doesn’t help much now that you’ve gone An honest man here lies at rest
I am often told I am a lot like you It was something as a child I used to detest But the man in the mirror lets me see how it’s true To be your reflection I feel blessed Knowing that you were leaving Doesn’t help much now that you’ve gone An honest dad here lies at rest
I cannot grieve for long; you would not want me to So I will carry on, the way you know I always do
Things that all who knew well you can attest And for this life lived, you lived to the best To be your reflection I feel blessed I knew that you were leaving But in my heart you’ll never be gone
An honest friend here lies at rest An honest man here lies at rest An honest dad here lies at rest My father who art in heaven… …is at rest…
F***! Barely 9AM Monday and I’m frazzled already… Really, this could have been an email, they don’t agree. I don’t have enough coffee for this mess… Damned too early to be this stressed! Am I ready for the weekend? Oh, Father deliver me, YES!
For this week’s prompt, Dee (aka WhimsyGizmo) has us freaking out over a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words not including the title, but must include some fun or fanatic use of the prompt word “Friday”.
I remember my first encounters with you Not my first childish attempts of What I now know is my full passion But the first time The time when I knew this was it The joy I felt Holding you close to me Running my fingers over the mysteries of your contours No longer questioning why I’m drawn to you
And every now and then When the confines of that Which I call my world Threaten to crowd me Almost as reflex I suppose, I find myself In a place Walls don’t always exist But drawn by you
And when I’m occasionally selfish You don’t mind For you know The extent of the power You have over me When drawn with you
You give worlds of images All perfectly contained Within the movements Of as few Or as many Well placed strokes From my soul As drawn through you
Whether To you, By you, With you, Through you, Nothing beats the feel Of you, my Ticonderoga No. 2 Soft I’m drawn
The NaPoWriMo site challenge for Day 2: Write a platonic love poem. In other words, a poem not about a romantic partner, but some other kind of love – your love for your sister, or a friend, or even your love for a really good Chicago deep dish pizza. The poem should be written directly to the object of your affections (like a letter is written to “you”), and should describe at least three memories of you engaging with that person/thing.
A cage is not just bars that can withhold the physical self
Words spoken heartlessly but struck deeply Can confine the soul
For only as long as you are willing to let them hold you
As always I begin National Poetry Writing Month with an Arun, as I have done these past few years, in honor of the fiend (<– not a misspell), and creator of this poetic form – GirlGriot, who first got me into this yearly challenge.
An Arun is a fifteen-line poem in three sets of five lines. Each set of five lines follows the same syllable structure: starting with one syllable and increasing by one syllable with each line. 1/2/3/4/5 — 3x. There are no other rhyme or structural requirements
The NaPoWriMo site challenge for Day 1: Pick a word from a given list . Then write a poem titled either “A [your word]” or “The [your word]” in which you explore the meaning of the word, or some memory you have of it, as if you were writing an illustrative/alternative definition. I chose the word Cage.
The blank page My tomb – My womb Where I smolder, Gossamer – Nebulous A spark from beneath the surface, I scratch at an idea, Thoughts slowly burning, The kindling of Letters and punctuations Until I am borne anew A phoenix Burning away blankness In sentences and paragraphs In verse and prose Then in splendiferouscoda Of the final character I vale to the emptiness My tomb, My womb Of the next blank page
Dora from Dreams from a Pilgrimage, challenges us to a write poem using any animal of choice (real or mythological) as a metaphor for how ideas and words take shape for you on a blank page
For this week’s Quadrille, Dee (aka WhimsyGizmo) has us folding over a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words not including the title, but must include some form of the prompt word “fold”.
For this week’s Quadrille, Dee (aka WhimsyGizmo) has us pining for a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words not including the title, but must include some form of the word “pine” as a noun, verb, or adjective. Or play around with it and invent your own word.
For this week’s Quadrille, Kim (Writing in North Norfolk) is prompting a revolution for a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words not including the title, but must include some form of the word “revolution”.
Here I give gentle nods to Gil Scott Heron (The Revolution Will Not Be Televised) and Marvin Gaye (Inner City Blues)
Raivenne-lations 