Tag Archives: poetry forms

MLMM: Music Prompt #71 – “Waiting for Tonight”

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In the sweetest dreams,
I have pictured us together
Now to feel your lips
–Jennifer Lopez / “Waiting for Tonight”

Waiting for tonight
I thought love was for others
More worthy than I
As each day I woke
To tear stained pillows
Yet how my heart beams
To be fated for a life
With a king to this queen
Joy bursting at the seams
In the sweetest dreams

Waiting for tonight
You were simply always there
But in keeping my distance
I didn’t see you get closer
Until I noticed there was something
In the way you touched my hand
For all my hopes were tethered
To protect me from hurt
I did not dare to believe
Yet in foul and fair weather
I have pictured us together

Waiting for tonight
You untied the binds
I thought fate had wrapped
Permanently broken tatters
To discover a heart whole
Tomorrows joy will eclipse
All the pains of yesterday
This new found love held
Tonight at our fingertips
Now to feel your lips

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Today at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sanaa hosts the Music Prompt with a New Year’s special, using Jennifer Lopez’ ”Waiting For Tonight” as the prompt. While Sanaa desires us to “…write down your deepest feelings regarding this auspicious event. How do you see or predict the year ahead, what are your hopes and dreams for the future. Feel free to take the subject in whichever direction that you desire.”, much to my chagrin, the temper(mostly)mental muse clearly desired to go the full on sap route for this. My eyes sometimes roll, but I don’t argue with the chick – I just go with her flow –  using Lopez’ lyrics in a classic glosa.

Happy New Years!

Music Prompt #71 – New Year Special,”Waiting For Tonight” – Jennifer Lopez

Sevenling: (That entry)

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That entry with stately Neo classic columns of two centuries ago
This courtyard with intricate Moorish tile work showing past Spanish influence
The balcony with geometric bas relief of American mid-century modernism

All coexist on a block hinting at the beauty of what it once was
On a crumbling calle of poverty and dilapidation of what it is
Within sight a renovating neighborhood of what will be again

Means nothing to those in a one room shack out in the back country

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Today’s form: Sevenling.

A Sevenling is a  7-line poem (two tercets and a one-liner as the final stanza) with these parameters:–

– Three lines that contain an element of three. This could be three connected or contrasting statements, a list of three names or details, etc. The three things can take up all three lines, or be contained anywhere in the stanza.

– Three more lines that contain an element of three (can relate to stanza one directly, as a juxtaposition, or have no connection whatsoever).

– Final line: a punchline, strange twist, narrative summary, or punctuation mark, of sorts.

No particular rhyme, rhythm or meter are required. Titles are also not required. If you do decide to title it, the title should be “Sevenling:” followed by the first few words in parentheses. The tone should be mysterious, offbeat, or disturbing, and the poem should have an atmosphere that invites guesswork from the reader.

Everything

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You

Never said

What I wanted to hear

Show

What I wanted to see

Gave only

What I needed

So they said

It wasn’t enough

But I knew

It was

Everything

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Posting a belated for yesterday’s interview Catching Up with Samuel Peralta at dVerse.

A Twitter poem  is the challenge of writing poems within the limit of 140 characters (including spaces, line-spaces etc.) of a tweet.

Sevenling: (For two hours daily)

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For two hours daily my parakeet squawks
while my cat hisses as
my dog is howling

All in harmony with cars honking below
Planes flying above and the kid
badly practicing the cello next door

Earplugs are a thing of beauty indeed

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Artist: Claudia Schoenfeld
Used with Permission

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Today at dVerse Victoria inspires us to use one of the paintings of fellow dVerse Poet Claudia Schoenfeld for our poems. As Claudia is also a musician we are further challenged to write a poem using the SEVENLING form with a theme of music.

The painting I chose clearly inspired me in an offbeat direction.

dVerse ~Poets Pub |
Poetry and Painting Embrace: We Can’t Forget Claudia Schoenfeld

A Lil’l Dab A Doo Ya

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Ya needs you sumting fo’ dems chills
Yous lookin’ likes ya needs sum care
I’s jus’ da ting ta cures ya ills
Lemme put summa dis dere

Dis’ll warm ya likes a sweatta
Feelin’ real good to you, yah?
Imma makes it all betta
Jus’ open wide and say ah

When yous sick ain’t nuttin like Mama’s luv
Wid sum chikin soup and Vick’s vapa rub

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So today on Real Toads, we are asked to feel free to write a poem containing some kind of local vernacular, slang, or pronunciation. My poor, poor spell check!

Real Toads | Open Platform

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National Poetry Month – Day 19

We  we cure what ails you with the Ravenfly.

The Ravenfly is a nonce form that consists of two quatrains and a couplet
with syllable count of of 8/7/8/7/10/10. The rhyming scheme is abab cdcd ee

There are no metric requirements.

Twisted

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This is how you want me?

Twisting myself
Inside out?
Just for you.

Dropped into the vortex
All these parts of me
Churning,
Tearing apart!
For you!

My death
Custom made
Sustenance

For your desire
Of the sweetest kind

I hope you get
Brainfreeze!

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My milkshake brings all the boys and girls to the shoppe, I guess.

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Today, Brendan at Real Toads challenges to write a poem with poetic surprise. I suspect something a little more highbrow was on the plate, but the ol’ muse ain’t biting any of it.

Real Toads | Turns of the Tale: Poetic Surprise

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Meanwhile, in a serendipitous turn, Grace at dVerse inspires us to write a Quadrille with a Twist. Twist being the word for the day, to be included in the write, in any of its usages.

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #7

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National Poetry Writing Month – Day 18

In lovely coincidence I happen to be up to the letter Q as I tiptoe through my alphabetical tulips of poetic forms – so today I do a dance of a Quadrille. A short poem of exactly 44 words, not including the title – no more, no less.

The Trinity

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The stretch of lives as we understand
That are pulled from chaos into strands
Then placed in care of three pairs of hands

Clotho gathers many strands to spin
Strands clean and pure without a sin
Into the threads where our lives begin

In the slips and slubs that’s sewn our way
Lachesis holds forth the role we play
Threads strong or weak are hers t0 say

Deigned to be neither our foe or friend
Whether worn smooth or with snags to mend
By Atropos’ shears we reach our end

Woven deep onto Life’s tapestry
Come all of the things that are to be
Under the eyes of this trinity

In this tapestry so tautly gripped
Where our twisting lives are woven, slipped
Thus our threads are spun, measured, and snipped

Nornsweavingarthurrackham

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Today at Real Toads, with today being the third Sunday of the month, Hedgewitch challenges us to consider the idea of three. I took on the trinity we tend to refer to in the singular: Fate (The Fates).
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Real Toads | Poetry To The Third Power

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National Poetry Month – Day 17

In honor of Hedgewitch’s celebration of three, I break my alphabetical run through poetic forms to do something original, original to me anyway.  I’m calling this the Monoterce.

The Monoterce is simply a mono-rhymed tercet (a three line stanza), of nine syllables per line,  done in multiples of three. It has to have a minimum of three stanzas to qualify, any following stanzas must be in multiples of three (3, 6, 9, 12… ).

The Memory Remains

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Those old shoes that we lived in on the dance floor
The pretty dresses that could not worn anymore
All the old things we packed from times before
It was all boxed away in the attic to store

All these things are gone now, yes, that is plain
Burned to the core, only the memory remains

Old letters so brittle with time they would decay
The things we can no longer put out on display
May be old but in our hearts new is how they stay
Were all here, but in a moment all burned away

All these things are gone now, yes, that is plain
Burned to the core, only the memory remains

In the aftermath of flames barely left any trace
All those things gathered to be held in their space
Pieces of the our past that cannot be replaced
I am grateful – there go I, but for saving grace

All these things are gone now, yes, that is plain
Burned to the core, only the memory remains

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Today Karin challenges to write about what remains, however we envision it.
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Real Toads | In The Remains

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National Poetry Month – Day 16

I give you what remains in a Pendrangle.

Stanzaic: Two or more of quatrain couplet pairs
Refrain:  The couplet is a refrain repeated throughout
Isosyllabic:  Hexameter (12 syllable lines)
Rhymed-   mono-rhyme throughout: aaaa BB cccc BB…

Ivory and Coloured Glass

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In vials of ivory and coloured glass
Are memories of then now gathering dust
Just one touch and in memories I’m thrust

Swift as the stirrings that came to amass
A moment’s surrender, I do remember
Those fleeting firsts uncovered in the grass

Wandering the world with equal lust
Fill vials of ivory and coloured glass

But vials of ivory and coloured glass
Needed a home with some stillness to trust
That our nomadic lives could not adjust

Allowing one last half-formed thought to pass
How it descended, bitterly ended
I pull myself from memory’s morass

Oh but for one more tryst in wanderlust
For vials of ivory and coloured glass

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For today’s prompt Angie challenges us to utilize T.S. Eliot’s complex and very long poem “Wasteland” in either a Fibonacci or free style poem. The only caveat being the write can not be about death, numbers, money or taxes – as it is Tax Day here in the U.S. A few lines random lines caught my eye, and my muse took over from there.

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Real Toads – Tax Day

 

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National Poetry Month – Day 15

Not knowing this was coming I already did a couple of Fibonacci Spiral poems just last week and did not want to do another one so soon. Free style is easy, so I’ll stay in keeping with my alphabetic run through poetic forms challenged myself to an Octain.

Year of Loving Dangerously

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You warned of this sun solstice start
In you, I should not place my heart
Fault mine, to cry piteously
For soft like autumn leaves I fell
A spark winter kindled to swell
I did not heed seriously
My heart grew sore, as spring returned,
With summer’s kiss, I now stand spurned
Year of loving dangerously

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Today the idea of this challenge is to substitute words of our own into the well-known titles of novels or movies and write a poem from there. I played with The Year of Living Dangerously by Peter Weir.

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With Real Toads | In Other Words

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National Poetry Month Day 14

Today I write dangerously with a Nove Otto.

The Nove Otto poetry form  is a nine-lined poem with 8 syllables per line. The rhyme scheme is as follows: aabccbddb