Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: 2016 Week 47
When the band has the blues,
When the night burns florescent,
Then time collects in pockets
Of memories, greeted with toasts.
Proffered feasts fading into the
Jazz heated spirals of sax,
Yes, sax, and trombone glissandos
As time burns through the bar
As patrons slide to the floor
Melting into the hot blue night.
Whatever we start, Planned by engineers, or not, On the Danube flowing through time Or the Potomac flowing past a nation, We showcase ourselves with light. We fill the cases with the ancient Stones that we stole to teach the world About how important the stones we stole were. Each outrage part of the parade Of tough spirits trying to mitigate The damage done by screaming women, By ranting crows, by bullets and hooks. We sign the papers before we know The length of our enlistment. We face a nation With something akin to fear, pride, glory, And the fish which swim upstream breath In relief at having avoided the bears, Just before we net them. We must finish what we started, the next race Must begin and end and begin...until we realize the race was never ours to begin with.
GAME | STUDY | SAD | LOUD | BECOME
The rules are that I must use the above five words to create a poem. I can use any form I wish. This form is called a Shadorma, a non-rhyming poem using six lines. The meter is 3,5,3,3,7,5.
The game starts Before dawn in sad Lonely light. Where study Becomes a secret yell, sound Is a loud whisper.
The blahs have come home to roost.
Laundry blahs, the distant cousins of vacuum blahs,
Bed blahs related to cooking blahs,
Politic blahs hiding under the bed,
Biting and fighting all the other blahs
Leading to loud voices, slamming doors,
and colorless blahs.
Thank god for shower blahs and the
Cascading predictability of water which is
Not related to the blahs by
any marriage or
reason.
Blah.
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?
Can’t remember his name
Only the argument
Roses on my wrist
Said he’d paid for dinner
And getting a dance wasn’t
Good
Enough, I walked home alone.
Freshmen year in college is never easy as young adults try to find out what they believe and deal with insecurities. It uses two tools, the acrostic and the line ending in the next line, giving two or three meanings to simple words.
I won’t scribble you away,
Nor toss your soul.
Not leave you faceless
Alone,
Or tormented
By a blank page.
I see you
Trending,
Launching with joy
At your clutched letter.
A publisher
Of humanity
Wanting to find your
Joy, your footstep
That will take you into eternity
With other poets who await you.
(Written for a StormcloudKitten)
Ann WJ White 