Tag Archives: Poetry

The Last Hurrah

Posted on by
7

Sometimes it does snow in April
Ol’ Man Winter exerts his will
With the March lion he’s allied
Our calendar they’ll not abide
The masses seem most mortified
That snow would deign to fall outside
Demeter smiles in mock deride
As Persephone is by her side
For his blustering’s not bona fide
And that lion runs at the lamb’s chide
It’s the last hurrah until autumn’s chill
I laugh as the scant snowflakes spill

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

napo2016button1
National Poetry Writing Month – Day 4

Real Toads Challenge: Nature Poetry

Today’s form: Duo-Rhyme (12 line)

The Duo-rhyme, is a 10 or 12-line poem, with the first two and last two lines having the same rhyme scheme, and the center of the poem (lines #3 through #8 or #10) having their own separate mono-rhyme scheme.

Meter: 8 beats per line, written in iambic tetrameter (4 linear feet of iambic)

Rhyme Scheme: 10-line: a,a,b,b,b,b,b,b,a,a  or 12-line: a,a,b,b,b,b,b,b,b,b,a,a

How Do I Live My Life Each Day?

Posted on by
12

How do I live my life each day?
A touch ribald? A touch blase’?
I live the life of bon vivant
With a hint of nonchalant
And sometimes yes, a dilettante
Now some will say I’m arrogant
But none can claim I live pissant
My joie de vivre is abundant
Each day I rise “L’Chaim!” I say
Nor have it any other way

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

Real Toads: The Tuesday Platform

napo2016button1
National Poetry Writing Month – Day 4

Today’s form: Duo-Rhyme (12 line)

The Duo-rhyme, is a 10 or 12-line poem, with the first two and last two lines having the same rhyme scheme, and the center of the poem (lines #3 through #8 or #10) having their own separate mono-rhyme scheme.

Meter: 8 beats per line, written in iambic tetrameter (4 linear feet of iambic)

Rhyme Scheme: 10-line: a,a,b,b,b,b,b,b,a,a  or 12-line: a,a,b,b,b,b,b,b,b,b,a,a

Sleepless

Posted on by
8

With twirling thoughts inside my head
In knowing each step I took was right
I lay here gazing at walls instead
There is no sleep for me tonight

This first night without you here
Coldness where warmth beside me lay
I find myself in anguished mood
With twirling thoughts inside my head

In this desolation of my thoughts
I mourn the path that brought me here
To blame is futile and pleas unheard
In knowing each step I took was right

The bright moon scoffs at my attempts
And shines its light on the truth of it
Watching its path travel this room
I lay here gazing at walls instead

Somnolence will not be found here
In midst this turmoil of my soul
Dawn will find me as dusk left me
There is no sleep for me tonight

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

Today I Cascade.

In a Cascade a poet creates the initial stanza then takes each consecutive line from that first stanza and makes those the final lines of each stanza afterward. If the first stanza is sextet, then the complete poem will have seven stanzas of sextets. A tercet results in four stanzas of tercets and so on. Beyond that, there are no additional rules for rhyming, meter, etc.

 

dverse

dVerse Poets Pub | Open Link Night #183

A Sidekick By Any Other Name

Posted on by
10

An amigo, a second hand,
Someone who will understand
These windmills that turn in his mind
Whose malevolence only he finds
Never will I understand you see
How such epitomizes me
I have rode by his side
Through thin, through thick
Oh he has hit, he has cursed me
But never once did he kick

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

The rules of the Flash 55 challenge are simple. Write a piece of poetry or prose on a subject of your choice in precisely 55 WORDS. For the optional extra part of this month’s challenge, consider writing about The Classics in whichever form appeals: Novels, Music, Art.

For my Flash 55, I chose the ever hapless Sancho Panza pondering the modern phrase for his role in Don Quixote’s life.

As I also wrote it in silly prose, I add it to the list for NaPoWriMo.

Flash 55 Challenge

napo2016button1
National Poetry Writing Month Day 3

Silver Lining

Posted on by
7

I look upon this cloudy scene
The miles of dark unbroken gray
Stretched to the limits of my sight
As sky turns to sinister mood

What would have been, for sure will not
The lightning strike is close and loud
To emphasize its full intent
Like it or not, it’s understood

That any plans are now for moot
I lay the blame on the storming shroud
Their malice to ruin the day
As if the blame would do much good

I sneak a smile at the dark clouds
Didn’t want to go out anyway

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

napo2016button1
National Poetry Writing Month 2016 – Day 2

Today’s form is a new one for me – the Bref Double.

The Bref Double has four stanzas – 3 quatrains (4-line stanzas) and 1 couplet (or 2-line stanza).  It carries three rhymes, an A rhyme, B rhyme, and C rhyme. There is no set line length, but the lines should be consistent within each poem. The order of the rhyme varies, but the A and B rhymes must appear twice within the first 3 stanzas and once each in the couplet, while the C rhyme is the final line in each of the quatrains.

Rhymes can be as follows: xaxc xbxc xbac ba, xabc xxxc xabc ab, abxc abxc xxxc ab, xabc xaxc xbxc ab etc.

Here I Start

Posted on by
1

Here
I start
A new day
A new chapter
Filling it with words

Time
Once more
Ticks its tocks
Daily challenge
Of what I can write

Rhyme
Rhythm
Whatever
Will be – will be
This poetic month

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

napo2016button1
National Poetry Month 2016 – Day 1

Today’s form: the Arun.

A nonce poem created by friend and fellow 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. Today, I follow the pattern she’s set, left aligned and un-rhymed.  I will take a little poetic license again, in future runs of the form.

 

Our Father’s Time

Posted on by
6

Finding the world in the smallness of a grain of sand
And holding infinities in the palm of your hand
And Heaven’s realms in the seedlings of this tiny flower
And eternities in the space of a single hour
Gordon Sumner | Send Your Love

I think hard when I scoff at life’s demand
Can I comprehend all that He has planned?
Can you? Do you even dare to ask?
It’s mighty and daunting task
It’s beyond anything that man can understand
Finding the world in the smallness of a grain of sand 

For what’s a hundred years of a life spanned
When on the very edge of time You can stand
We mere mortal like Luna simply wax and wane
With only trite things called words to explain
All the power and glory that is Yours to command
And holding infinities in the palm of Your hand 

As I glimpse the fleeting rainbow after a shower
I’m reminded that He is the Ultimate Plower
For the seasons cater only to One whim
Over galaxies that are but gardens to Him
In the palm of His hand yes the Heavens tower
And Heaven’s realms in the seedlings of this tiny flower

Oh the magnificence of The Father – Our
Time immemorial is but a page for Him to scour
It’s long past when Mother Nature’s blue eyes close
And beyond a phase even Father Time knows
For infinity’s but an instant for Him to devour
And eternities in the space of a single hour

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

Feeling some Gordon Sumner (a.k.a. Sting) lyrics  in  modified Glosa form.

dverse
dVerse ~Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight #169

Mountainous Words

Posted on by
7

On a mountain I want to cry
Searching for words to supply
Words that uplift or upend
I aim to try, find them by and by

Pen poised to paper I pretend
I have vast thought to append
Come noon no words yet to construe
Down this craggy end, I descend

I jot the only thing that’s true
These mountainous words to pursue
Try as I might the words won’t spill
Evening comes through, with words still due

My mind as blank as the moment still
Waxing poetic instead on this blank bill
I realized I no longer needed to try
And the mountain ill, became a mole hill!

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

Lynn at dVerse prompts us with a “summit in sight”. My usually loquacious muse was drawing a blank with this, so I went with that as theme. And in a loose Monotetraiyet form.

dverse

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: Summit in sight

An Unkindness

Posted on by
11

Since Edgar quoted me with “nevermore”
From sea to sea, from shore to shore
Stuck am I with the forlorn evermore

That is an unkindness

My midnight plumage my mark
Damns me with the dark
Never exaltations as a lark

That is an unkindness

A terror, a blight
That is all you see
Even my brethren feathered white are considered a fright
My bane, my plight
The passion of me
Do I dare then make sight, even I seek the light?

But oh, to all my feathered kin
Who share not in my chagrin
Know that I cringe within

When you say we gather in murder
If only it were an unkindness

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

At dVerse De (aka WhimsyGizmo) invites us to “draw our poetic inspiration from the whimsical, musical, magical names given to groups of birds.”

Naturally, I take up the cause of my namesake. For while their near cousins, the crows, are quite known for killer gatherings, few know how much of an unkindness it really is for ravens.

dverse

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics : Poetry is for the Birds

Do You Hear Me Now?

Posted on by
9

She starts with the hand open,
Near her mouth, palm toward,
But not touching her face,
Veins appearing on the back of her hand
Forming a claw
That moves downward past the mouth
Oh hell

I try not to smile

I watch the bend and flex
Of her wrists and joints
Her delicate bones
Making fierce gestures
As she tells me off

I try not to smile

She yells at me something fierce
Manicured fingers
Form intricate patterns
Punctuating the strong words
Silently speaking volumes

I try not to smile

I know she’s caught me
Her tightly fisted hands at chest level
Fly up and then open in exasperation
I gently grasp her soft hands
Holding her attention

“Darling you’ve just yelled at me solely in ASL again.”

The hand signal
She uses next
Needed no translation

I smile

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

At dVerse “Mish” leaves in in our hands to conjure up a write about those most hard-working appendages – our hands.  My muse took me to one pissed off woman “yelling” at her not yet fluent in ASL spouse.

dverse

dVerse Poets Pub | Poetics – Poetics – Can You Give Me a Hand?