PAD Prompt: Blank in the Blank
Poetic Form: Minute Poem
Lost in the Moment
Like a Saturday afternoon,
during late June.
Bubbles floating.
Ice cream coating
smiles of my children. Hours measured
by swings weathered
from storms and years
of children’s cheers
as they learned to let their hearts fly,
feet to the sky.
Today my heart,
takes time apart.
Day 29 Prompt: Evening
Form: Rondel
“House”
House, dark and asleep, I can write.
The last of my breath fills the page,
as the writer now takes the stage.
Computer screen shines, a spot light
on my monologue, so quiet -
keep the peace, even when I rage.
House, dark and asleep, I can write.
The last of my breath fills the page.
Words roll on the screen like headlights,
blinding my tired eyes of age.
Time’s script always sends me downstage
to find a rhyme to this good night.
House, dark and asleep, I can write.
Day 28 Prompt: Remix
Form: Nonet
“In a Park: Part II”
In a park there is a statue of
a girl holding a red balloon
shaped like a heart. She looks up
with a serious gaze.
I always think she
is wondering
what to do
with it
now.
After
a moment
I hear laughter
from my three daughters
as they run through flowers.
I walk away from the girl
holding a heart shaped red balloon,
sad because she cannot feel this love.
Day 9 Prompt: Persona
Form: Hir a Thoddaid
“Old Metal Slide”
I hear you clambering to the top,
go down 540 nonstop.
Laughter filling the sky, a backdrop
to a joyful moment. I eavesdrop
on your conversation, father’s love for
growing daughters, no need to stop.
Day 4 Prompt: Active
Form: Free Verse
"Easter 2021"
Easter morning
All the eggs have been found
Worship filled our souls
I’m out walking, trying to remove the age from my legs
It has been
A year since the world locked down
I notice some homes have
Out-of-state plates
While others have nothing but dark windows
How many stories have ended in the last
356 days
How many lives
began in those same thousands of hours
I feel the contradiction of this world
As the sun warms my face
With the promise of a new beginning
Yet, the breeze cools my neck with the memory of winter
Our stories are solid beneath our feet
But flow together like cirrus clouds in the sky above me
My name
unknown to almost everyone
My title of father, though, has cemented generations to come
I don’t know
If my neighbors see me reach my front step
As I open the front door
My family knows I’m home
When they see us they will know what love means.
Hand in hand in step with the fading light,
I understand why birds are called to flight.
I wake early to see the morning glean
on skin, promises mixing with sunlight.
When they see us they will know what love means.
Hand in hand in step with the fading light.
I admit to getting lost in-between
seductive kisses and your smile bright.
My heart soars with the doves in clouds of white.
When they see us they will know what love means.
Hand in hand in step with the fading light,
I understand why birds are called to flight.
Poetic Form #99: Madrigal
The madrigal is an Italian form. There are two main types, the Italian and English.
I will focus on the English. The English form was developed by Geoffrey Chaucer.
It is written in iambic pentameter, with three stanzas: a tercet, quatrain, and sestet.
All three of the lines in the opening tercet are refrains.
The form follows this rhyme pattern:
Line 1: A
Line 2: B1
Line 3: B2
Line 4: a
Line 5: b
Line 6: A
Line 7: B1
Line 8: a
Line 9: b
Line 10: b
Line 11: A
Line 12: B1
Line 13: B2
A man, shoulders soft from time, stands next to his child, who is now taller
than him. The man holds a box, a gift, for his son. Wooden, carved with
calligraphy of the past. The box is heavy in the man’s hands. His son lifts it
with ease. They smile; one is bright, the other scarred. In that moment one
can feel time shift in the son’s favor. The man’s chest falls and rises through
earthquakes of memories. The son opens the box to find,
fall leaves ---
crumbling on to
his path
Poetic Form #81: Haibun
The haibun form combines a prose poem with a haiku. The form was popularized by the 17th century Japanese poet Matsuo Basho. The prose poem and the haiku communicate with each other in some way. The prose poem usually sets a scene in an objective manner. The haiku follows the rules for haiku.
A winter day
filled with sun
too bright to see.
My daughters
small bundled colors
fly down a slope.
At times
I follow them
even at my age.
We fly
together at times
crashing in joy.
Snow in boots
on gloves
melting on cheeks.
This is a moment
forever now
in our hearts.
Poetic Form #69: Triversen
The poetic form, Triversen, was developed by William Carlos Williams.
Each stanza equals one sentence. The sentence (stanza) breaks into
three lines (each line is a phrase for the sentence). There is a variable
2-4 beats per line. The poem is 18 lines (or 6 stanzas).
