Poetic Form 15: Nonet

 Compass

True north is an illusion we fall

for too many times. Even the

sun never sets at the same

spot on the horizon.

Follow your heart. No,

doesn’t work! So,

here I am

again,

lost.

Poetic Form #15: Nonet

A nonet poem is a 9-line poem that has nine syllables in the first line, then eight syllables in the second line, and continues to count down to one syllable in the final line.

The Point of Now

Count the ways

    to a single point

More than South

    West

    North and East

A 360 degree map

    a point

        from A to B

        but to C and Z, also

See,

    there is a time

    in fact, it is now

    even tomorrow

This point is accessible

Even for those

    who believe they are lost

Walking the Path

I’ve walked so far that I've lost my way  

My shoestrings are so frazzled they can't be tied 

To keep my shoes on I shuffle along

My hands are cold from the ever-changing wind 

That penetrate my tattered gloves 

Everyone wonders where I'm going 

All I can say is where I've been 

My map shredded, unfolded too many times 

Coffee stains and fast food residue 

Make the legend and roads hard to read 

I look up to the sky to aligning myself with the North Star 

But it simply watches me 

My Boy Scout badges are no help 

I've wandered from place to place 

Having my mail forward
But somehow I never get the letter you say you wrote so many years ago.