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Tag Archives: poetics

Strange Road

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I walk tight ropes

Intricately sewn of my own doubts

Back and forth I tiptoe

From sky blue clarity

To the rarity of

Predictions come true

And here I pause

One foot fixed and ready to

Fly across the flames

The other sifting pebbles

Of doubt between my toes

I wave to hazy horizons

That already know

My destiny

 

 

Today I am hosting at dVerse Poets Pub where we are using signs as a visual prompt. Let them speak to you metaphorically or as an allegory, take you to a deeper place or even a comical place. Your sign does not need to have words, as symbols have stories and voices too.

 

Sensory Senryu

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Claustrophobia

 

a jet black bubble

titanium choke hold

last taste of insanity

 

 

Peace

 

auras of eucalyptus

good deeds dangle from the stars

waiting on supernova

 

 

Fake

 

pearly white snake

words whispering agenda

bouncing off the wise

 

 

Micromanaged

 

preyed, poked and pried

shadowed under King Kong thumb

random rays of light

 

 

It’s time for Poetics at dVerse.  Today I am hosting and the topic is “Sensory Play”. Choose something abstract such as a colour, emotion, idea, concept, a quality, trait or situation…and bring it to life using one or more senses. You could also choose something more concrete, as long as you are using senses that are not normally associated with it. For example, describing the sound of “moonlight”. Hope you can join us!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fawns and Simpler Things

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I am your Spring

Spindly, unspoken

Mending your dreams

Faded and broken

 

Sweet woodland grasses

Kissed by the sun

Nurture my soul

Teach me to run

 

Delve in my eyes

Of nature’s unknown

I hold your heart

I am your home

 

We are writing “From Nature’s Point of View”.

at dVerse Poets Pub.

 3 p.m. EST.

 

 

 

 

Glass Fish

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You didn’t know

That on riverbanks I sat

Sinking in words unspoken

As waves sparkled and spat

Saying more than you could

And I ever would

I back-stroked in sea storms

Dreamed of days blue

While you fought the ebb tides

And this little memento

Means more than an ocean

To me

 

I am hosting Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub today. Today I am asking you to write a poem about one memento. You may use a souvenir from your travels, a photo, a keepsake from a special moment or event, perhaps a small token that is dear to your heart.

 

How Dare I Even Try to Cover Shakespeare

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All the world’s a page
And all the men and women merely poets
They have their exits and their entrances,
And in time they write of every stage of this life
The penning of seven ages. At first, the infant,
Rapping and clapping  in mother’s arms
Then the whining schoolboy, with his backpack
And mourning face, snailing his way
To school. And then the lover,
Sighing between couplets, with a woeful ballad
Music to his mistress’ ear. Then a soldier,
Fighting life’s battles on paper and screens
Jealous in honor, spoken word slamming
Seeking the published prize
At the risk of denial. And then the justice,
Fattened and fueled with philosophy,
With eyes widened by profound thoughts
Full of wisdom of past and present
And so he coins his phrase. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and withered wordsmith,
With spectacles on nose and irony alongside;
His youthful imagery, well saved, a world too wide
For his shortened verse, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish times, whines
And whistles of his own elegy. Last stanza of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Blank verse, refrain and mere oblivion,
Sans rhythm, sans rhyme, sans breath, sans everything.

 

ALL THE WORLD’S A STAGE

By William Shakespeare

(from As You Like It, spoken by Jacques)

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

poetryfoundation.org

Photo taken in Stratford, Ontario, home of the Stratford Festival and Shakespearean plays.

 

A wonderful challenge by Bryan Ens for dVerse Poetics, where he asked us to “cover” a poem by a poet whom you admire. I missed the prompt so I’m linking this up to “Open Link Night”.

Feel free to join in with one poem of your choice!

Abusing Walls

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I held you up

I let you paint me

In the latest trends

Layer upon layer

Of boredom and

Mid-life madness

I hated periwinkle by the way

Then you had the gall

To nail me!

Fancy little treasures

All in a row…oh

I sheltered you

From the storms but

You just made your own

Then what do ya’ know?

You… kicked…me!

I didn’t like that

But I think it hurt you more

 

At dVerse Poets Pub we are giving walls a voice. 

You can join in too!

 

Image credit: pixabay.com

Dinner for Four

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Pins patter across the floor

To the beat of stifled hearts

The scrape of metal on plates

Over a pea soup haze

Of perishing pipe dreams

Plates are full

Starving souls grumble

As sun stretches in vain

To reach darkened table

Four sets of blue eyes

Pale and gazing elsewhere

Wandering minds waiting

For something

Anything

To speak

These walls know

The pain of silence

 

We have all heard the phrase, “If these walls could talk”. Today, I would like you to do just that by giving walls a voice through your poetry. Join in with us over at dVerse where I will be your host for today’s Poetics. Doors open at 3 p.m. EST.

Image credit: pixabay.com