Category: Poetry

You Dared Me, I’m Back

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An old dare, newly done.

bewilder
joggle
cohesion
rectify
indolent
ascertain
enthrall
uncanny

Bewildered to see me again? But why,

When you joggled the cage door yourself?

When you said that you would rectify

The differences between that television series,

That horror movie of our romance?

It took a bit of uncanny guessing,

Of peanut cohesion, of failed illicit dieting,

Of indolent chocolates on lazy tongues.

You enthrall me with your hidden steps

Around the scales of life. But,

I found you again, and ascertained

That you had grown again, with me, as

Now about your hips which I squeeze,

I encircle you, my dear, have a slice.

For you’ll not forget me again.

 

Yes, yes, yes, you must guess who I am, old friend.

 

Word Challenge:Base

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/base/

Your base accusations thrown
Up into the light, then fired
Off one by one where others
Out of the loop mock and destroy.

You should have called, asked
While listening, looked again
For the rainbow's wraps between us
Where we had left them, uninterpreted.

Instead, you rose, phoenix-like voice
Raised, accusing me of stealing
Your opinions, inflating your ego,
Stealing away your personality.

Baseless, I thought, until I couldn't
Find a way between us with a flashlight.
I couldn't find the boxes of photos I
Had left in hiding, the photos of pain.

I looked for the boxes of joy, missing
The ominous spaces, the boxes of sorrow
Which had been sealed by us both. What dark
Adjustments were made by you without me?

Now we step like opposing forces armed 
To the teeth, with no base to function from
As the war begins. Why? Some blame time
Which was never my friend. Is it over?

Bludgeoned by a Tyrant

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/bludgeon/

You step in here, as though the world
At my table is yours to plunder.
You badger me, and fuss, screaming,
Taking your brief visit for granted.
You beat the table and my heart
With ruthless demands, that if not
Satisfied, compound to make the a hammer
Of your yammering, a bludgeon 
Of your will against mine. Finally,
Vegetables and meat devoured!
I place your ice cream before you,
But you have fallen asleep, 
A tyrant in a high chair.

All rights reserved@2016 AnnWJWhite

Five Words to Play With, structures

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Weekly Writing Challenge #61

Challenges are fun. This type of challenge is one of my favorites. Give me a word list and I’ll make you a poem. So here are the five words I have to use: broke, bridge, judge, story, lake.

A haiku using 17 syllables in either sentence or three line format.

Judged by a lake of
Bridged stories, heroes gain truth,
broke foes gain but naught.

Broke of common truth,
Before the judge, man swims 'neath
lakes of false stories.

Sometimes changing the form of a word gives it more power. 

Judged, the lake bridged by
Lies, these storied villains broke
Are redeemed by truth.

Then of course shapes can influence the words used:

           broken lake that carries the
       the                              judged
Bridge                                       past their stories.

Sometimes free verse works best for me:

I was the daughter of a coffee pot
and a lake of tears.
Judged by no one but myself,
I swam an ocean of grounds,
Lay upon black beaches of grounds,
Bridged the distance between a story
Explaining my tardiness,
Or a trip to visit my secret garden of regrets,
I would chose instead a broken biscuit
With a dab of butter and jam.

Or you can assign me a form that is required in its fierceness.
A Cinquain which requires a five-lined poem using first 2, the 4, then 6, then 8, then 2 syllable format:

Broken?
Our Justice gone?
Finding the judge asleep,
Under a lake of lies, bridged by
Stories.

Or perhaps you prefer a Nonet?

At the top, a lake of storied
lies told to a judge with eyes
Closed and clouded. How to find
A bridge to open heart
And mind. Broke the soul
That pushes lies,
Hidden by
A poet's
Eyes.

Well, maybe not that one as much. But with a different structure.

At the top,
A lake of storied lies
Told to a judge with tired eyes.
How to find a bridge between
What is said and what they mean?
Broke the soul that pushes
Past the line that
Formed of truth
At last.

Anyway, those were five words rolling around a challenge...

 

Haiku Challenge: Creep and Race

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https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/20053969/posts/1206418766

Haiku, a snapshot of contrast in nature. Timeless reflections we have created words to go where symbolic thought was once presented.

Chipmunk's branch races,
Rushing. Turtle creeps beneath
Notice, silent, wise.

Eerie

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/eerie/

The simple sounds,
A cat on a step,
A bark from a dog,
The silence of the eleventh hour
As it breaks after the chiming of the clock.


The simple sounds,
A creak on the stair,
The rustle of the leaves,
Which break through the glass of
The bedroom window where the curtains peek out.
The simple sounds,
A cat's meow, a creak,
A bark outside, within the rustling,
A clock which chimes, which calls,
The hours pass the midnight hour, and the dance.

The simple sounds,
The quiet cat's step, the bark,
Dreamers toss, turn, still fever sleeps.
Broken glass, wind whipping curtains
Which tip the lamp, a spark, a flash, tis one.

Lightening sounds,
Fire erupts, lamp burns,
Stairs creak, cat flees,
Dog runs in, barking, yelping, searching.
The sleeper starts, all is calm.
Eerie.

Win or Go Home

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Game Five
Washington…one-run lead
Max Scherzer posting strike after strike

Risky send…out

Werth…Dodgers
Four-Run Rally

Chris Heisy’s two-run
Within one run

Half of the seventh…Jensen
But Kershaw – yes, Kershaw,
Slammed the door on the ninth.

It would have been
Game 1 against the Cubs

In the Style of Haiku

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Leaves changing red, yellow,
Falls, life blood carelessly thrown
Away in cold gusts

 

Strings of thread, twisted,
turning, cut, wind pulling to
find a high-strung kite.

Dogs bark, sun rising
Stretching my legs, my soul up
Breakfast time is here.

 

 

World Series 2016, Cubs vs. Indians

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Black baseball
players

Scoring
on a field of honor.

In 1925,
would
not have been
allowed.

Times have
changed.

The Eagle’s Rush

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It was there, over my head in the swamp,

That I met the dancing wind.

With a speed that rushed the world past

as I stood still, I was inspected, rejected,

Passed over as a dinner treat.

Who was I to walk there in another world?

Who was I to seek secrets?

I spun on my heels looking for power.

Turned quickly to spy the motion I felt,

more than saw.

Dancing on my tip toes, I tried to follow.

Not for me, the race through the trees,

Not for me, the freedom to fight, to fly.

Oh, but envious eyes I did cast

after the lord of the sky.