Poetic Form 66: Ae Freislighe

Silent Night

I know what your emptiness

means for us in this moment.

Like a lost child’s faithfulness,

waiting for that wrapped present

under the tree, sorrowful

tears sting soft cheeks on Christmas.

Knowing there’s no tomorrow,

only a promise, because

I unwrapped your compromised

kisses under the darkness

of letters you plagiarized.

I know your love is starless.

Poetic Form#66: Ae Freislighe

The Irish poetic form, Ae Freislighe, is an intense rhyming form. It is 

constructed with quatrain stanzas (4-line stanzas) with 7 syllables 

per line. Lines 1 and 3 rhyme with three syllables (xxa) and lines 2 

and 4 rhyme with two syllables (xb). The final syllable, word, or line 

of the entire poem is the same as the beginning of the poem. The poem 

can be one stanza or as long as the poet wants.

 

Poetic Form 34: Treochair

Free Fall

Let me go.

To fall forever freely,

like a Christmas morning snow.

Dreams coming

true. Trusting the bright colors

wrapped, a child’s joy becoming 

the chance for

us to shine sharply. See I

know how love unlocks the lores 

told by fires.

The heartbreak, hurt, and hunger

hold us, making us liars.

We say one

thing, but believe another.

Never knowing nothing more

then broken

relationships reeling right

back to shore, love not spoken.

But right now?

I wish we were never scarred,

so we would want only how

to let go,

and fall freely forever.

Snowflakes silently inflow.

Poetic Form #34: Treochair

The treochair is an Irish form. The poem uses tercets (three-line stanzas) 
with the first line rhyming with the third line. Each stanza a different rhyme,
 except the last stanza goes back to the first stanza rhyme. There are three
 syllables in the first line, seven in the second, and seven in the third. 
The last rule is that treochairs use a lot of alliteration.

Poetic Form 29: Free Verse

Believe

I’m trying to hold on, I swear, 

to believing in love.

Dear God, I feel like an 8 year old again,

hearing the stories that Santa isn’t real

from the school yard bullies.

Standing on that cusp of a belief

between what I feel on Christmas morning

and what my mind knows of the world.

Even though I can’t stand their voices,

their jaded taunts.

Always in a group, their laughter mean.

My mind knows there is truth

in their destruction of my joy.

Is there no longer a desire to see what love can do?

Have we dumped all our resources into hate?

The flames high,

heat radiating for days.

I know how tempting a fire is in the middle of a cold night.

Red flames dancing seductively,

promising to keep the wolves at bay.

But the fire will only burn if it is constantly fed.

There is only so much a person can sacrifice to pain,

until there are no more planks left to build a life with.

Dear God, I am tired!

My armour pierced.

My reserve spent.

My fingers blistering.

My body weak from holding my children away from

the onslaught of division and wreckage.

I am tired!

My eyes closed from the sweat dripping into them.

I want to believe,

I want

to believe.

To believe…

I believe,

I do...

I have lived long enough to know

that Christmas mornings

are still filled with joy

because I am the one that wraps the presents,

fills the stockings

and places the packages under the tree,

as all my children dream.

I know of the joy they will feel come morning,

because I believe.

I believe in love,

    even as I stand up on spent legs.

Poetic Form #29: Free Verse

Free verse is a form that is free from limitations of regular meter or rhythm, and 
does not rhyme with fixed forms, yet still uses literary devices like metaphors, 
personification, irony, and similes.

Poetry Challenge Day 15: Dream

 

I Dream of Better Days

I dream of better days

When a handshake can seal the deal

When I can eat a wild apple, the peel

Stuck in my teeth, juice on my chin

I dream of better days

When a hug will feel like Christmas

When I can choose to stand last

In a line, not feel like sin

I dream of better days

When the playground slide is free

When the masks fall to see

Smiles from strangers and kin

I dream of better days

When hearts’ desires are pursued

When a day lived is not a feud

Between regret and wanting to begin

I dream of better days...

If you want to see forever

If you want to see forever

use the rest stop at mile marker 167

    On Interstate 90 in South Dakota

   Next to the town, Belvidere, population 49

    Watch the clouds fill the sky

        like a bag of cotton balls

    The grassy plain cuts the horizon miles away

You can see the thunderstorm in the east

    A curtain of rain

        that you will encounter only after traveling for hours

If you want to see forever

 sit with a child in front of a Christmas tree

    On Dec 23, with presents before you

    They already know which ones have their name

    Know the sound of what’s inside

        hoping it matches their dreams

    The stockings still empty on the banister

You can see the anticipation heavy in their eyes

    Smile already building

        that you secretly know will be beaming Christmas Eve

If you want to see forever

 watch a young couple in a restaurant

On their third date

Their gaze never far from each other

Laughter as they share food from the plates

    extending their forks across the table

    Bites playfully as their eyes lock

You can see how lost they are

    In their moment

        unaware of the bustle of everyday life around them

If you want to see forever

 stop to speak to the gentleman

    On the porch of a run-down home

    The years worn into his hands

    Life drying out his throat

        making his memories hard to share

    So they pile up behind his lungs, raspy and slow

You can see the effects of life on his shoulders

    Once square, now curved,

        waiting only for the day of rest

If you want to see forever

  breathe in at this moment

    On the next exhale

    Feel how your heart beats

    To the rhythm of your life

        created by choices and fate

    A paradoxical rule that no one knows

You can see time move through your relationships

    Loved ones and enemies

        all saying your name

If you want to see forever

   

open your heart

It's Been a Long Winter

It’s been a long winter

  And another storm is raging outside

The power is out this Christmas morning

  No wrapping paper litters the floor this year

  No tree fills the window view

As a family we slept huddled together in the living room

To silence our hunger we eat Pop-Tarts and dry cereal

The drifts block the doors

Cell phones are on low battery mode

  But it doesn’t matter

  No service blinks at the top

I see the fear in my little ones’ eyes

My wife sends a question with a look,

 “What do we do?”

It’s been a long winter

  And another storm is raging outside

There are small flames in our neighbor's windows

The battery operated radio is just static

  Until we find a voice on an a.m. station

He tells us that this is the worst storm in years

  As if we didn’t know

I wonder if I have the Faith to wait it out

 Or should I grab a shovel and a scarf?

My wife produces a cassette tape

The joyful music feels like a scream in the grey sunshine

I see a small wisp as I breathe out

My oldest daughter has a book

Everyone has a blanket

Then our heads snap up in shock

  As a howl fills the space

There is a pack of wolves running between the houses

  Snipping at each other

  Sniffing the wind

  On sits atop the drift in front of our patio doors

I shrug in amazement toward my family

It’s been a long winter

It is Christmas morning

Another storm is raging outside

Instead of wrapping paper on the floor

We have wolves at the door

A Present

They say this life is a present…

But I can't find it.

I'm scrounging under the tree like a four-year-old.

Trying to find which box is mine.

Where is my name?

None of the tags reveal the present to be mine.

I see all the colored boxes.

I even shake a few.

So many beautiful bows

 and colorful paper.

I would be happy even with a small box.

For some reason, Santa has forgot about me this year.

My stocking is empty.

There's not even coal.

The fireplace sits cold and dark.

the cookies are gone from the plate.

I know that Santa has forgotten me this year.