PAD Challenge Two

I’m still a few poems behind, but I’m catching up. And I have to say, I’m not enjoying this as much as I thought I would be. Part of it is the prompts – they kind of suck. So, naturally my poems mostly reflect this. My vision of having thirty awesome poems at the end of the month is slowly fading away. Anyway, I have a couple that I’m not too embarrassed to share.

10. Write a taste poem

Choices

I stand before the menu board
so many choices
how can one decide?
Something different for a change . . .
there’s London Fog, sweet vanilla cream
with a hint of bergamot
or maybe a creamy, smooth Macha Latte.
Emperor’s Clouds and Mist offer
a gentle, smoky, earthy flavour,
while Peach Tranquility appeals
with its fruity goodness.
The mint and lemon of Lemon Majesty
would be a refreshing change,
as would the Honey Citrus Mint
with a touch of honey.
So many options,
so much to choose from.
I sigh, resigned,
and order my usual
a creamy, spicy, Chai Latte.
Why mess with success?


11. Write a power poem

I watch
safe behind the glass
hidden behind
the houseplants on the sill.
The yard is alive
with activity,
the birds facing off
with the squirrels
for the pleasure of
emptying the feeder.
Back and forth,
a swing and a miss,
chittering squirrels,
squawking birds,
but wait!
The chipmunk sneaks through
the line of defense,
up the shepherd’s crook
to the feeder
reaching the goal.
Power play!


12. Write a counting poem and/or a not counting poem

I’m counting on
warm summer breezes
the trees greening up
the garden emerging
soft summer nights.

I am not counting on
the endless grey
dismal rainy days
the cold creeping back
and wet snow on the deck.


14. Write a scary poem

The scudding leaves lead the way
the wind is chill, a hint of spray
from darkened clouds laying low,
truly ‘tis a night of woe.

The moon above’s no longer bright
as red begins to dim its light
and footsteps echo in the dark
while shadows dance and leave a spark.

I slow my pace as I draw near
the dark and ancient stone menhir
where waits the coven for the rite
to bring to all eternal night.

The bones are cast into the fire,
spirits shriek as flames leap higher,
hands are joined and words are said
to fill the mortal world with dread.

Dark spirits mass to watch and wail
and wait their turn to cross the veil;
the mortal world is ours this night
you cannot hide, you cannot fight.

Dark desires rule here now
it does not matter what you vow
you cannot stop what is to come
your only choice is to succumb.

PAD Challenge Sampling

I was a little late joining the annual Writer's Digest PAD Challenge  this year, but I’m pretty much caught up. And I figured it was the perfect time to revive my Wednesday posts by offering a sampling of these poems.

That being said, these aren't the greatest poems I’ve ever written, but they’re better than nothing. I’m not including all of them, but I am including the prompt Writer’s Digest gave for each given day. And away we go:

1. Write an F-title poem

Foolish Thoughts

Foolish thoughts fill my head
When I’m awake, when I’m in bed
They keep me entertained, it’s true
But I’ve got other things to do.
I’d banish these thoughts if I could
It really is for my own good
But foolish thoughts will oft persist
No matter how long is my list
So work can wait another day
And foolish thoughts can have their way.

4. Write a catch up poem

Like a hamster running on its wheel
Spinning, getting nowhere fast
I fall behind, and then catch up
But it never seems to last
I fall behind, catch up again
The cycle just goes on and on
Perhaps I need a bigger push
Before the catching up is done.

8. Write a what they never tell you poem
I wrote this one while hanging out with my granddaughter, so she may have inspired it a little

They tell you
not to be in a hurry to grow up
but they never tell you why
They tell you
to mind your P’s and Q’s
but not how to deal with those who don’t
They tell you
money doesn’t grow on trees
but not where it does come from
They tell you
eating vegetables makes you strong
but not what to do with that strength
They tell you
to be kind to others
but not what to do when others aren’t kind back
They tell you
“one of these days”
but don’t tell you which one
They tell you
lots of things
but leave out a lot of things too.

9. Write a breaking poem

I stand upon the path at night
and look toward the sky
the stars are fading with their light
the moon no longer high
the water’s calm, there is no wind
as to the shore I am drawn
I face the east, I may have grinned
to watch the breaking dawn

Slipping Away

I have a twofer (two for one) for you today. I wrote these poems about 25 years apart and although the styles are quite different the message is pretty much the same. I’d like to think I’ve matured a bit as a poet over the years - what do you think?


SLIPPING AWAY

Regrets for things I’ve never done
Sad sighs for words I’ve never said
Dreams of battles not yet won
Escape - my future’s filled with dread

Wishes, longings, fantasies.
This world of mine is not quite real.
Cold and dark obscurities
Confuse my vision with their steel.

Myths and legends come to life,
Yet I bury things that are.
Sorrow cuts me like a knife,
And yet this road has led me far.

Worlds of people take their toll.
The music slips away.
Loki comes to steal my soul,
There goes my sanity.



SLIPPING AWAY – REDUX

I’m slipping away
losing myself
in what others demand
of me

I’m losing myself
my dreams
popping one by one like
soap bubbles

I’m vanishing
disregarded
just an afterthought in
others’ lives

I’m like a ghost
insubstantial
that face in the mirror
isn’t mine

I’m slipping away
bits and pieces
scattering behind me until
I’m gone

Things and Stuff

New Words - 1052
Poetry - 177
Total Words - 1229
Editing Hours - 0
Paragraphs of Notes- 3

Honestly, if it’s not one thing it’s another. Last week was another week that was not conducive to writing, and I can’t even blame the hubby being on vacation. Actually, hubby being at home was a bonus because he was determined to barbeque every night, which meant he was doing half the cooking for dinners.

No, the culprit last week was all the extra babysitting so the son-in-law could spend time visiting his mother, who was in the hospital. I love my grandbaby, but she can be pretty exhausting. She may only be 2 ½ but she’s already a force of nature.

What surprised me the most about last week was I was able to get my blog posts done. Especially the Friday ones. Thursday I babysat from 8:30 a.m. until 7:30 p.m., and then Friday the hubby and I took the day off to go to the CNE, which you can read about HERE if you like.

Thank goodness for the prompts from Brazen Snake Books last week or I might not have anything to show for my week except a few paragraphs of notes for a story idea. The poetry prompt was to write a poem about something (anything) going bad, which came just at the right time for me.

I’d like to move my office across the hall to a sunnier room in the house, but in doing so I also need a smaller desk. I’ve always dreamed of one of those small, roll top desks with all the pigeon holes and secret drawers and such. So on a whim I did an online search and to my surprise I found one I could afford within driving distance. I emailed the seller and yes, it was still available. It was going to be a couple of days before I could get to it and in the mean time someone else, with cash in hand, swooped in and bought it. You can read my poem about it HERE.

And anyone who knows me knows I love all things mystical, so it was impossible to resist last week’s story prompt: A character went to get his/her fortune read six years ago. Today, that fortune is coming true in the most unexpected way. Tell us about it… You can check out the resulting stories HERE. I really love that Jamie’s story (it comes first) is light in contrast to the darkness of mine.

The new PROMPTS for the week are up at Brazen Snake Books, you should really pop over and give them a try. And once you’re done with your story and/or poem for BSB, check out my picture prompt of the month HERE. Last month's prompt inspired someone other than me to write a story, I'd love if that happened again.

Needless to say, I made no progress on a writing routine last week but this week things are back to normal, despite the long weekend. So cross your fingers for me.

Week Four of the Jamie and Carol Poetry Challenge

Can you believe it? It’s the end of April, which marks the end of National Poetry month and the end of the poetry challenge.

I have to admit there were a few times when I thought I wasn’t going to make it to the end. And many times when I thought about cheating - I’ve done examples of all of the forms I used before and it was really tempting to use one of my pre-written examples, especially for the Xenolith, but I didn’t.

I come away from this challenge with 30 brand new poems to add to my collection, and a new energy towards my fiction writing. I’m glad I stuck it out, and maybe I’ll even be inspired to post a new poem here every once in awhile.

It’s something to think about, to be sure, but for now - the poems:

Poem #22
The Sijo is Korean, traditionally composed in three lines of 14-16 syllables each, totaling between 44-46 syllables.
Line 1 introduces the situation or theme of the poem.
Line 2 develops the theme with more detail or a “turn” in argument.
Line 3 presents a “twist” and conclusion.

* ~ * ~ *

I watch for the portents, like dark clouds fleeing towards the horizon
when a storm is coming, you can smell it on the wind
there are changes fast approaching, and we are totally unprepared.

* ~ * ~ *

On All Hallows Eve the veil between this world and the next thins
allowing spirits to roam at will, lingering at the fires of bone
before returning from whence they came, leaving us behind.

Poem #23
This was a Sunday poem and although I said I wasn’t going to do forms on Sundays, I thought I’d lighten things up with a couple of limericks:

There once was a girl from Nantucket
Who said all these forms can just suck it
with syllable counts
the tension just mounts
and as for the rhymes I’ll just chuck it.

* ~ * ~ *

These grey rainy days are so dismal
I’m sick of the heaven’s baptismal
There’s no end in sight
To the duckies delight
This weather is truly abysmal

Poem #24
The Tetractys consists of at least 5 lines with a syllable count of 1, 2, 3, 4, 10. You don't need to limit yourself to a single verse, you can have as many as you wish following the 5 line format. It can also be reversed and written as 10, 4, 3, 2, 1. You might also want to try the Double Tetractys 1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 10, 4, 3, 2, 1, or continue as long as you wish keeping to this pattern. I did both a double and a single.

Sun
rising
colouring
the sky with pink
before it starts bleeding into the day
and then turning multiple shades of blue
until losing
cohesion -
fade to
black


The
zombies
are rising
and so we just
batten down the hatches and wait in fear


Poem #25
The Utenzi verse form is Swahili in origin and usually describes heroic deeds. It consists of four-line stanzas with eight syllables per line. The last syllable of each of the first three lines rhyme with each other while the last line has a separate rhyme that is consistent throughout the poem, tying the verses together.

The Lovers

She was not the fairest of face
but she possessed an elfin grace
and led him on a merry chase
‘till he was well and truly caught.

A smile, a touch, and it began
though she was from another clan
so they were forced to make a plan
escape would take much aforethought.

They fled along the old causeway
and soon they made their getaway
far to a land where they could stay
where her kin would trouble them not.

And so they loved and lived their days
wrapped as they were in love’s sweet haze
together at last for always
in happiness that love had wrought.

Poem #26
The Virelai is a medieval French verse form. It can have any number of 9-line stanzas but must have at least three. The syllable count is 5-5-2-5-5-2-5-5-2 and it has a running rhyme from stanza to stanza aabaabaab bbcbbcbbc ddcddcddc etc until the end, in which the long line rhyme of the first stanza is repeated as the short line rhyme of the last stanza, ffaffaffa. I’m pretty sure this was a form of medieval torture.

Arrgh!

This form is a pain
I must be insane
to write
it looked rather plain
but it hurts my brain
tonight
this poem is inane
I’ve got a migraine
all right.

The second verse might
just worsen my plight
a curse
this poem is a sight
to give you a fright
perverse
must finish despite
my lack of delight
adverse.

Yah! The final verse
this poem is the worst
a bane
a syllabic curse
really kinda terse
brain drain
the rhyme is perverse
my psyche needs a nurse
migraine!

Poem #27
The Waka is said to be the classic verse form from which most Japanese forms developed. It is written in 5 lines with 31 syllables: 5-7-5-7-7

Thunder rolling in
lightning flashes in the sky
a scent of ozone
dark clouds on the horizon
preceding the breaking storm.

* ~ * ~ *

Relentless rainfall
pitter patter on the ground
quenching the earth’s thirst
‘til the earth can drink no more -
rising, then spilling over.

* ~ * ~ *

Words said in anger
ugly words like knives
sharp and painful
cutting deep, leaving a wound -
they cannot be unspoken

Poem #28
A xenolith is fragment of extraneous rock embedded in magma or another rock. A Xenolith poem is one poem of eight lines embedded in a poem of seven lines making it a fifteen line poem. The seven lines have twelve syllables per line and are mono-rhymed, the eight lines have eight syllables per line and are written in rhyming couplets. Technically, you can pull them apart to end up with three poems, all of which should make sense.

12 syllables
It starts with a poet who has nothing to say
some words will need coaxing to see the light of day
inspiration is as ethereal as the moon’s ray
you can give chase but cannot catch that which is fey
perhaps the will-o-the-wisp has lead you astray
to inspire others to follow the pathway
and see what remains left at the end of the day

8 syllables
magic appears when it’s not sought
it’s not a thing that can be caught
like dust left in a fairy’s wake
or beauty that makes a soul ache
the poet’s pen, the artist’s brush
the light of dawn’s first early blush
a song that’s sung with all your heart
a pledge that’s made to never part

Inspiration

It starts with a poet who has nothing to say
magic appears when it’s not sought
some words will need coaxing to see the light of day
it’s not a thing that can be caught
inspiration is as ethereal as the moon’s ray
like dust left in a fairy’s wake
or beauty that makes a soul ache
you can give chase but cannot catch that which is fey
the poet’s pen, the artist’s brush
the light of dawn’s first early blush -
perhaps the will-o-the-wisp has lead you astray
a song that’s sung with all your heart
to inspire others to follow the pathway
a pledge that’s made to never part
and see what remains left at the end of the day

Poem #29
The Yama verse is both a syllabic and a rhyming form. Traditionally it is a poem of death, grief or sorrow, although it can be expanded to include simply a poem of loss (even of a season). It can be any number of quatrains, but it is written in lines of 6 syllables with lines 2 and 4 rhyming, and must always have a title.

Regret For Time Lost

It happened much too fast
we’d no time to prepare
you were gone and we were
left behind in despair

I recall looking back
as you sat there alone
I never should have left
you to the great unknown

My big regret is that I
did not stay with you
I was young with no clue
what you were going through

The doctor lied to us
they said you had a year
it was just a few months
your sickness was severe.

I cannot help but think
that you are now content
you’re with mom in heaven
after a life well spent.

Poem #30
Zéjel is a romantic Spanish form with Arabic influence. Eight syllable lines are common, but others have been used. It can have any number of verses. The first stanza, known as the mudanza, has three lines, rhyming aaa. All the other stanzas as many of them as you like have 4 lines, rhyming bbba, the a rhyme harking back to the first stanza.

Watcher

There’s magic in the air tonight
I feel it in the moon’s pale light
and I am filled up with delight .

I heard the horn from far away
to call the Wild Hunt into play
the riders soon will come this way
and I will witness magic bright.

You say I’m mad to wish to see
the huntsmen on their killing spree
on that I will not disagree
but I cannot resist the sight.

They take the damned, so it is said
to dwell among the restless dead
and sometimes take lost souls instead
because it is their ancient right.

Let others cower with a chill
next to the fire behind the grill
I will stand firm upon the hill
and I will watch the huntsmen’s flight.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

And there you have it. An alphabet’s worth of poetry forms with a couple of extra thrown in to make 30 days of poetry.

Don’t forget to check out JAMIE'S final week’s worth of poems too. And come on back Friday to see if you’re inspired by the picture prompt I’ll be posting for the month of May.