Poetic Form 51: The Blitz

Throat Not Cut

Wolves at the door

Wolves at my throat

Throat bleeding

Throat hurting

Hurting my lungs

Hurting my eyes

Eyes filled with tears

Eyes burning

Burning the past

Burning my future

Future filled with fear

Future falling to pieces

Pieces of paper

Pieces of poems

Poems of hate

Poems of love

Love lost

Love found

Found in a box

Found by time

Time spent

Time lost

Lost to another

Lost in prayers

Prayers of salvation

Prayers in silence

Silence of the heart

Silence that echos 

Echos of the past

Echos of words

Words not said

Words that stumble

Stumble through life

Stumble and fall

Fall for the lies

Fall into winter

Winter always comes

Winter nights

Nights filled with stars

Nights hold danger

Danger of death

Danger around the corner

Corners hide

Corners sharp

Sharp like knives

Sharp enough to cut

Cut to the heart

Cut out the pain

Pain…

heart...

Poetic Form #51: The Blitz

The Blitz is a form based on rapid fire short phrases, with a repetitive format. 

The first line is one short phrase or image. The second line uses the first word

from line one with another short phrase.  Lines three and four start with the last

word of line two. Then lines five and six start with the last word of line four.

Repeat this pattern through 48 lines. Line 49 is the last word of line 48 and line 50

is the last word of line 47. The title of the poem is three words long using this format:

first word of line three, preposition or conjunction and the first word of line 47.

There is no punctuation.

Poetic Form 50: Sestina

Main Street

When we sale no more lies

posted on lamp poles in the light of the sun,

maybe then we will be able to find

the strength to walk together with love

on these crowded streets.

A better future needs a truer vision.

Nothing corrupts one’s vision

more than the belief of our own lies.

Jaywalking across unmarked streets

watching our shadow move with the sun.

Our steps in a hurry, because we love

to be seen for more than we find

in our coat pockets. We never find

the right keys to unlock our true vision

of the way we want to share love

with the world. Instead we write lies

on our phones. Never noticing the sun

going down while the lights of the street

illuminate the storefronts on main street.

Crowds pass us, all face down, finding

it is easier to get lost when the sun

goes down on their dreams. Cracked visions

of past moments flicker like lies

across lips that manipulated their love.

The pain of heartbreak darkens the love

we share with the pedestrians on the street.

We wave them across with a smile, polite lies

we combine with emotional Molotov cocktails we find

stored behind our eyes. Fire and destruction is the vision

we hold in darkness, truth pierces us in the sun.

At a crosswalk, traffic lights hard to see in the sun.

We crave a seat at a cafe with the ones we love.

A better day, less traffic, a simple vision

but a more meaningful life. A map with street

names clearly marked. We would finally find

our way past the boarded up lies.

The murmur of traffic lies in the ears, away from the sun,

confusing the soul. Hard to find peace and love

in a life that shares streets with strangers without a vision.

Poetic Form #50: Sestina

The sestina form is a complicated form, so I am linking to the guidelines presented
by Writer’s Digest, “Sestina Form”.