It’s Good To Know

This love thing
Wasn’t my calling
Sentiment
Not a thing I could stand
Yet you right zoomed in
So enthralling
Put a wrench
To my solo life planned
And though
I haven’t finished falling,
It’s good to know
It’s with you where I’ll land


dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #173: Zoom Poems

dVerse Poets Pub graphic
dVerse ~ Poets Pub

on Quadrille Monday De Jackson (aka WhimsyGizmo) had us zooming around the history of a humble four letter word that, in the beginning, literally sounded like something fast and exciting – like race cars. Thanks to Covid, the word has also become somewhat synonymous with a slow dreadful thing to be avoided – like online office meetings.

As such we’re being asked to Zoom our way around a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words not including the title, but must include some form of the word “Zoom”.

Here my mind zooms in completely different direction than my previous quadrille.


Day five of National Poetry Writing Month

National Poetry Writing Month
20 years of 30 poems in 30 days

With Just One Little


Several long years in the void of

Living on the brink in frightment

Of an orange-haired menace destroyed of

Any enlightenment

But now Karma’s been employed of

Things, yes, I’m zooming in delightment

Petty in my schadenfreude

With just one little word Indictment


dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #173: Zoom Poems

dVerse Poets Pub graphic
dVerse ~ Poets Pub

Yesterday on Quadrille Monday De Jackson (aka WhimsyGizmo) had us zooming around the history of a humble four letter word that, in the beginning, literally sounded like something fast and exciting – like race cars. Thanks to Covid, the word has also become somewhat synonymous with a slow dreadful thing to be avoided – like online office meetings.

As such we’re being asked to Zoom our way around a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words not including the title, but must include some form of the word “Zoom”

Day four of National Poetry Writing Month

National Poetry Writing Month
20 years of 30 poems in 30 days

I Know In The Morning You’ll Walk Away

This is the bend before the break.
This is the mercy not the grace.
This is the proof and not the faith I try to find.
There shouldn’t be a good in goodbye.
–Jason Walker / Shouldn’t Be A Good in Goodbye

The night beautiful and starry
Then you pull me close – whisper I’m sorry
And something inside begins to shake
For I know in the morning you’ll walk away
It’ll only hurt more if I ask you to stay
And this is more than I can take
This is the bend before the break

It’s not what’s meant by ‘till death us do part’
When the thing that’s dead is your heart
But I see the nothing left in your face
So when you tell me it will be okay
I know in the morning you’ll walk away
Leaving me in the pain for time to erase
This is the mercy not the grace

This is not how it I want it to be
My heart shattered all around me
The loosened knot of the ties that bind
I know in the morning you’ll walk away
You tell me, I’ll be fine again someday
And it is a truth that’s most unkind
This is the proof and not the faith I try to find

Even though we it’s far from right
When I let you stay for one last night
You hold me with love, that I know is a lie
And there’s not a damn thing left to say
When I know in the morning you’ll walk away
So when the dawn and I break, I don’t cry
There shouldn’t be a good in goodbye


Day 3 of National Poetry Writing Month

I play around with an untraditional glosa

National Poetry Writing Month
20 years of 30 poems in 30 days

Chipped Away

Never one for romances
I was blinded to arrive
Apart from old advances
By time’s sweetest contrive

You chipped at the iciness
That fear had given quarter
Revealing warm spiciness
Under this cold heart’s mortar

With twin hearts now emblazing
Gave no choice but to sever
The cold to the amazing
This love so dear so clever


Day 2 of National Poetry Writing Month I bring you an Ae Freislighe poem

The Ae Freislighe (ay fresh-lee) is an old poetic form from Ireland. It has a quatrain stanzas (4-line stanzas) of only 7 syllables per line. What makes is interesting (and somewhat frustrating) is its rhyme scheme.

Lines 1 and 3 rhyme together, but they rhyme as three syllables (xxa)
Lines 2 and 4 rhyme together as two syllables (xb)

A unique element of the form is that the final syllable of the poem should be the same rhyme as the very first syllable of the poem. (Yes, I cheated here – rhyming the word, not the syllable. It said should not must – shoot me.)

An Ae Freislighe poem can be as concise as one stanza, or scale out as far as a poet wishes.

National Poetry Writing Month
20 years of 30 poems in 30 days

Not Waste It

I
Do sense
Here and now
This first bright spark
I shall not waste it

You
Also
Know the gods
This moment touched
You will not waste it

We
Now one
Deep feeling
This sacredness
We do not waste it


I kick off 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.

National Poetry Writing Month
20 years of 30 poems in 30 days

Stolen

The memory of it still lingers
Like sticky nectar on our fingers
Made the more so in summer’s heat
From the vain attempts to sluice
Our chins of honeyed peaches juice
But in a moment replete
Under the fading eye of Sol
We heed the thrill to shun control
The stolen kiss even more sweet

summer kiss

<>==========<>==========<>

dVerse Poets Pub | Poetics: Prelude to a Kiss

dVerse Poets Pub graphic

Today at dVerse the challenge from Kim (Kim881), is to write a poem about kissing, a special kiss that still haunts you, a peck, a snog, a kiss hello or a kiss goodbye. Whatever it is, try to capture the wordless intimacy of the act.

And this stolen kiss comes via the Nove Otto

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

Unbinding


You’re too brazen girl
was oft the scold.
Be quiet and meek,
Fit in this mold

But my carefree soul was finding,
That it chaffed in the binding.

So, this woman breaks
from convention’s hold.
Aye, I will be daring
I will be BOLD!

“I Have Been Set Free” by Joanne Holbrook

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Q44 #167: BOLD-ly Go

dVerse Poets Pub graphic
dVerse ~ Poets Pub

Today on Quadrille Monday, Dee (WhimsyGizmo), prompts us to go boldly and boldly go with a quadrille.

A Quadrille is simply a poem of 44 words, excluding the title. It can be in any form, rhymed or unrhymed, metered, or unmetered. You MUST use the word “bold” or a form thererod in your poem.

On Arrival


I
The one
Teetering
Perilously
On the precipice

Shamed
To call
What I knew
Before as best
For now I do know

That
Nothing
Not a thing
Could possibly
Be as candy sweet

As
Screaming
Loud His name
On arrival
Of la petite mort


dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #166: I Like Candy

dVerse Poets Pub graphic
dVerse ~ Poets Pub

Yesterday on Quadrille Monday, Mish, got her sugar rush on at the bar and invited us to put a sweet spin to quadrille.

I also cheat a little in that my quadrille is also what I’ll call an Extended Arun. A nonce poem created by blogger GirlGriot, 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. Here I added an extra stanza to meet the 44 word Quadrille requirement.

Le petite mort, for those who may be unfamiliar with the term, literally translates to “the little death”. It is an expression in modern usage refers specifically to the sensation of post orgasmic afterglow that is as often likened to death.

Punching Age

It started at one,

strong and sure

The promise of more

its lure

Birthday punches are a rite it’s true

But as they wore on, so did you

I took its weak finish

with a laughing smirk

Forgot I was 59

didn’t you, jerk?


dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #160: Poems that Pack a Punch

dVerse Poets Pub graphic
dVerse ~ Poets Pub

Yesterday on Quadrille Monday, De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo, got a little punch drunk at the bar and invited us to punch out quadrille. Yesterday was my birthday. My bestfiend, not a misspell – who had the good sense to be born exactly a year later, and I were joking about the childhood silliness of delivering birthday wishes via punches on the arm. One punch-wish for each year, sometimes the token punches are delivered gently, sometimes not. Because I am blessed to age like fine wine, I do not look my years. Unless a boxer, I imagine most would begin to tire before reaching my current vintage and thus today’s silly quadrille.

Morning Scent

The fresh scent of lawn anywhere
Can sometimes take me there
Magnolia wafting on morning
breeze
Even if I cannot see the trees
Yes, sometimes a hint of sweat
Remembrances of you beget
The mourning in memory spurred
When into earth you were interred


dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #158: Morning Has Broken
dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: A World of Common Scents

dVerse Poets Pub graphic
dVerse ~ Poets Pub

Yesterday on Quadrille Monday Linda Lee invites to put our best morning forward in a quadrille.

A Quadrille is simply a poem of 44 words, excluding the title. It can be in any form, rhymed or unrhymed, metered, or unmetered. You MUST use the word “morning” in your poem.

Today dVerse guest host Jo invites us to A World of Common Scents and challenges us to write a poem of scents.

Linda’s “morning has broken” struck at Melpomene who cruelly reminds pleasant scents do not always pleasant memories make.