Showing posts with label kiss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kiss. Show all posts

Saturday, April 22, 2023

Day 22 PAD 2023

This poem is presented in its rough draft form for the PAD 2023 challenge and will be revised.

“What of a Breath?”

What of a breath? The first - the last
and all the ones in between that
we forget to count as we live
without guarantee of the next?

Hands shaking, chest too tight to breathe.
What of a breath? The first - the last.
Years of sweat and tears coming due.
Sweet taste of air when dreams arrive.

The one held before the first kiss
then lost when she smiles goodnight.
What of a breath? The first - the last.
Moments that change your views of life.

Holding hands as life fades away.
Too many questions to ask but
knowing that all you have is now.
What of a breath? The first - the last.

Poetic Form: Quatern


Tuesday, April 4, 2023

Day 4 PAD 2023

 


This poem is presented in its rough draft form for the PAD 2023 challenge and will be revised. 



“Her”

Her kiss tastes like strawberries - wild under the sun
I’m chasing my heart like clouds, playfully changing
shape across a blinding blue - fading to twilight
Darkness makes me lost, trembling - it was just a dream

Poetic Form imayo


Monday, May 2, 2022

PAD 2022 Day 26: Anti-love


 This poem is presented in its rough draft form for the PAD 2022 challenge and will be revised. 


PAD Prompt: Anti-love

Poetic Form:  Catena Rondo


“Let’s Be Honest”


Let’s finally be honest about this.

Love is an illusion we compose 

with recycled cliches no one knows.

Let’s finally be honest about this.


Love is an illusion we compose. 

Past moments quickly fade.

We color in loneliness. It never stays.

Love is an illusion we compose.


Past moments quickly fade

reminding us that love is already gone.

Every kiss ends, every person moves on.

Past moments quickly fade


reminding us that love is already gone.

We stand alone holding the aftershocks

from broken hearts now behind locks,

reminding us that love is already gone.


Let’s finally be honest about this.

Love is an illusion we compose 

with recycled cliches no one knows.

Let’s finally be honest about this.


Thursday, June 10, 2021

Fourth Day MVICW Conference

 


The morning session for Martha's Vineyard Institute of Creative Writing Writers' Conference was titled, "Who's on First? The Persona Poem at Play". The session was parallel to yesterday's session, but had unique aspects that expanded my understanding of the persona poem.  Again, these poems were done during the open writing time, so they will probably be revised later.

 The first writing prompt was centered on a fictional character. I chose the very hungry caterpillar on Saturday morning.

“In the Park”


Hmmm,

There should be a song about Saturdays and parks

What a lovely day

I almost don’t feel the fear of why

I am so ravished with this hunger

It seems as if my very soul is empty

For days I’ve been searching

Enjoying delicious fruits

Walking in your rays

But each night, I fall into a troubled sleep

Stomach hurting

Feeling myself expanding

Each morning

When I see you

This hunger drives me farther from my home

I need more

Huhhh

What is this red and white thing on the ground?

 

 

The second writing prompt was centered on a historical event before we were born or during our lives.We were asked to take the perspective of someone at the event that wasn't a main figure. In the Love Poetry session yesterday we read the first ever recorded love poem, "The Love Song of Shu-Sin". I considered how a servant might have been there.

 

“The Love Poem”


I remember how much time it took

    Sun moving through the sky

I would bring her food and drink

She barely touched them

Her hands working the sharp reeds into the wet clay

The pile growing smaller as the edges became dull

I could see her mouth move

    Repeating words

    Verbal kisses she transcribed onto the clay


I don’t remember what she wrote

I was assigned to prepare for the wedding feast

Before she was done


The next time I served her

    She was queen

 


The afternoon session was focused on prose poetry, "The Pliable Prose Poem".  We had a number of writing activities that helped the attendees understand the form. With one of the exercises, our instructor shared info on the Blue Lake Rhino Cave.


“Blue Lake”

We’ve lost more than our names in the waters of today. The echo of us is in the caves formed in our lives by time and trouble. We must take a deeper breath than ever before. Dive into the lake that once created a cave from the death of a rhino.

Monday, February 15, 2021

Poetic Form 92: Ottava Rima

 A Better Yesterday

She waits for something more than paper cards.

Written words of affections look so nice

when printed in mass. Love is discarded

with the scraps from dinner. She’ll sacrifice

flowers for a kiss that sets her off guard.

She wants a romance felt more than just twice

a year. She believes in those high school notes,

signed with a heart. Regret tightens her throat.


Poetic Form #92: Ottava Rima

The ottava rima is an Italian from. Lord Byron used this form to write Don Juan

The ottava rima form has 8 lines with an abababcc rhyme pattern. It is commonly

 written in iambic pentameter or 10-syllable lines. The form can be a stand alone 

poem, or with any number of stanzas.

Monday, December 28, 2020

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.

 

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

Poetic Form 64: Terzanelle

 

Just

I swear your tomorrows will not be the same.

Let me show you the true definition of forever.

Just kiss me like you don’t know his name.


Open your hands, release the smell of his letters.

We can find our way to being lost.

Let me show you the true definition of forever.


Exhale all the sweet nothings he whispered soft.

Lift your eyes when you hear my name.

We can find our way to being lost.


Place his midnight gaze in a flame, 

burn away the weight of his promise.

Lift your eyes when you hear my name.


My arms are strong enough for you to find solace.

I’ll mend all the tears he left behind,

burn away the weight of his promise.


Walk with me, who knows what we will find.

I swear your tomorrows will not be the same.

I’ll mend all the tears he left behind.

Just kiss me like you don’t know his name.



Poetic Form #64: Terzanelle


The terzanelle form combines aspects of the villanelle and the terza rima. 

The form has nineteen lines, with five triplets and a concluding quatrain. The second 

line of each triplet stanza is repeated as the third line in the following stanza.  

The first and third lines of the first stanza are the second and final lines of the

concluding quatrain. Traditional terzanelle poems use a consistent iambic meter,

but I did not use that in my poem. 


The form is as follows:


A(1) B A(2)

b C B

c D C

d E D

e F E

f A(1) F A(2)

Friday, July 24, 2020

Poetic Form 46: Fibonacci

Kiss

Kiss
me,
like you
never felt
a broken promise.
I will fall true to the caress.


Poetic Form #46: Fibonacci
Fibonacci poetry was created by Gregory K. Pincus as a 6-line poem that 
follows the Fibonacci sequence for syllable count per line.
1 syllable first line
1 syllable second line
2 syllables third line
3 syllables fourth line
5 syllables fifth line
8 syllables sixth line

Friday, October 20, 2017

Watch

Watch
As my words
Crumble
Like the glaze on a day-old donut
Stale, yet still just good enough to eat

Watch
As my words
Pile up
Like a 13 car accident on the highway
Horrific, yet glad it is not in your lane

Watch
As my words
Fall
Like the autumn leaves late in October
Beautiful, yet crushed underneath your sole

Watch
As my words
Fade away
Like the tingle of a first kiss
Intense, yet not ready to fully commit

Watch
As my words
Fill in
Like a coffee in the morning cup
Fresh, yet sipped with groggy eyes

Watch
As my words
Become
Like a butterfly in the summer
free, yet already starting to die

Blue Butterfly