He’s got no heart that’s plain for us to see yet adamantine chains of our own greed mocking bind our flesh permission securing to multiply lies that his desires ours would circumscribe
She’s got no heart that we all clearly know obscure it we must the voters to con paid consultants we diabolical masters creating sly illusions that blind our client’s tribe
Lisa at dVerse: Poetics -- "Halloweeny Humans" asks us to
write about a dislikable human trait.
She also introduces us to a new poetic form, the Duodora,
which we can choose to use.
a quatorzain made up of 2 septets.
syllabic, 4/6/5/5/5/10/10 syllables per line.
rhymed Axxxxxb Axxxxxb L1 is repeated as a refrain that begins the 2nd stanza. x is unrhymed.
Enjoy more at Mr. Linky.
Along the rolling hills I hear your mournful singing haunting clear yet windblown.
Under the moon’s vapid eye how can I, elf, to you deny your windsongs?
I’ll keep you under lock and key lest you flee and escape from me as windstorm.
The elvish king shall have you back when he returns the one I lack now windbound.
On Hallow’s Eve we’ll make a swap my child returned, you with your harp, — home windward.
Grace at dVerse challenges us today to write a Compound Word Verse, an unfamiliar form to most ous I daresay. She writes: "The Compound Word Verse is a poetry form invented by Margaret R. Smith that consists of five 3-line stanzas, for a total of 15 lines. The last line of each stanza ends in a compound word and these compound words share a common stem word which is taken from the title. (In the first example below the stem word is “moon” from the title “Moonlighting”; the compound words related to the title are moondust, moonbeams, moonsongs, etc.)
The Compound Word Verse (3 lines) has a set rhyme scheme and meter as follows:
Rhyme Scheme: a,a,b
Syllable/Meter: 8, 8, 3
Click on Mr. Linky to read more and join in!
I might parrot-fashion a torn heart question short-term memory lost far off find the Sultan’s three wives above the flame trees satiated, muffled by autumns roots wounded in the woods snaking whisper: find a cracked bell voice of the rain under my tongue wandering scent
Go nowhere: red fox, intrepid a straight man with name that fails to show, lost and found on the Kansas Prairie
I stalk: ragweed, Calvin Coolidge missing persons, prize peacock, around the breakfast table, hot air in the mirror-testing home, little fool
‘And the lost were found,’ select: response, resolution, finding, return to re-write or even reorder visiting gatherings of fourteen poker hands, under the unturned stone, hidden deep, secret, wakening, to the rain crying.
What is a found poem? Click here.Laura at dVerse Poetics: Lost Poems and Found Poetryasks that we
pick one of two options, of which I picked "finding a poem within a
poem or prose." Instead of selecting only one of the ‘lost poems’
(or one of your own finding where something or someone is lost )
and re-writing it is as a ‘Found poem’. I stretched the rule to
include all of Laura's prompt, prose and poetry, to compose my found poem.So I encourage you to go to the dVerse poetics prompt to
see the text used, containing Susan Rich, Pablo Neruda, Peter
Schneider, Maxine Chernoff, and Laura Bloomsbury's prose.
Read more at Mr. Linky and join in!
She came sailing in — foxgloved murder digitalis among shape-shifters in ash-colored silk an Austen novel in her head drysalter’s pharmacopœia of prurience in everyone else’s closet Gothic pawned in a room of Macbeths unshriven, exhumed desire — sailing in, lighting torches blanketed fire, lavender swan.
At d’Verse Sarah asked us to write a Quadrille of 44 words using the word "Ash."
This is a reworking of an earlier poem.
Click on Mr. Linky to read more.
Warning: Sensitive topic broached.
Björn at dVerse: MTB asks us to write a cadralor, which poetic form consists of "5, unrelated, numbered stanzaic images, each of which can stand alone as a poem, is fewer than 10 lines, and ideally constrains all stanzas to the same number of lines. Imagery is crucial to cadralore: each stanza should be a whole, imagist poem, almost like a scene from a film, or a photograph. The fifth stanza acts as the crucible, alchemically pulling the unrelated stanzas together into a love poem. By “love poem,” we mean that your fifth stanza illuminates a gleaming thread that runs obliquely through the unrelated stanzas and answers the compelling question: 'For what do you yearn?'" Click on Mr. Linky to join us.
A bird cries over the tele- phone wire, is it you? is it done? over black shrouded head
Shiny pruning shears in her gloved hands, methodically apply to de- locate dead heads, snip, snip
There once was a small torso in a womb severally dislodged by forceps into medical waste
If death comes in slippered feet, will they curl at the ends or just your lips? Mother?
All the ghosts have left, barren in winter, the autumn leaves twist the sea breezes rustle in her mind.
Sanaa at dVerse's Poetics asks that we "dip our toes"
into a panegyric: "Plainly speaking, the term “Panegyric,”
refers to a poem of effusive praise.
The genre being Greek in origin is closely related to
both eulogy and ode. Click on Mr. Linky and join in!
For dVerse Poetics --I couldn't get Lillian's birthday website link to work either, so I simply chose a memorable hit from my childhood. Grand Funk Railroad's "The Loco-Motion" is the first No. 1 song I remember from my childhoodin the 70's. It seemed to be everywhere on the radio all the time. But the song had been recorded first by Little Eva and been No. 1 in the 60's; later in the 80's Kylie Minogue took it to No. 3 on the Billboard.Not bad for a song about a train dance, chug-a-chuga!Click on Mr. Linky to join in!
The 70’s made a lot of commotion The worst in hair, the worst in fashion I ran around in patchy jeans and braids You were cool in long hair and good grades Then one day the neighborhood was jammin’ People snappin’ fingers and gyratin’ Kids in diapers and granddads in knickers All fancyin’ the music, ignoring the snickers “Come on, come on,” “chug-a-chuga,” swinging hips “Groovy!” “the loco-motion” on everyone’s lips!
The sun had taken flight with midnight near The killer stops uncertainly, afraid, Behind a sound he hears, sinister, clear, A hollow breathing, ice-cold hand now laid Upon his shoulder, grips; he springs away, As if the fiends of hell were at his heels, But still pursued, his face with terror, gray. At last he turns, with courage bold, then squeals As dead Lucille peals, “Now see how it feels!”
Well, Halloween’s just around the corner isn’t it? 🎃👻 Update: And right on cue, I’m number 13 on Mr. Linky! Haha.
Laura at dVerse's MTB: "Since today is the 9th of the 9th month it is fitting for that numeral to inform today’s poetry form – so let’s meet The Novelinee!. . . Yes, it’s a nine line stanza poem overlaid with this rhyme sequence:
a,b,a,b,c,d,c,d,d" also written in iambic pentameter.
Now I know that poetry is a razor blade slipped into a caramel dipped apple of eve’s desire sharp and tangy . . .
is as love’s wounding rigor mortis of bites ennui-soaked languid post-mortem of shamanic rites . . .
is a coroner’s tableau of victims bodies stretched out on gurneys for the inquest after the serial killer slips free of the electric chair because the judge knew his brother cain at harvard law . . .
is hummingbirds and bats dandelions, a lover’s hand broken stalks, memories . . .
is my heart laid out across the sky a constellation charted out of unknown algorithms multiplied to infinity dove’s wings rapidly beating now.
Today Victoria is guest-hosting at dVerse: Meeting the Bar and asks us to write a "Solilo-Quoi?", paying extra attention to form or other poetic devices in our self-talk. Click Mr. Linky for more and join in.
Lisa at dVerse Poetics: One True Sentence writes: “Your challenge today, should you choose to accept it, is to pick ONE of Hemingway’s quotes to be inspired by and write a poem. Do NOT use the quote in your poem, but please do include the quote on your post page somewhere, with Hemingway’s name as the source of inspiration. For bonus points, please say a few words about the experience of writing to an idea from the mind of Papa Hemingway.” Channeling Hemingway was a fun challenge for dVerse: his abbreviated diction, especially in dialogue, the unsaid reflected in the landscape as much as in the pools of silence surrounding a character. Click on Mr. Linky and join in!
‘It’s gone the way the mist is burned off the hollows in broken ground when the sun comes out,’ the Colonel said. ‘And you’re the sun.’ – Ernest Hemingway, Across the River and into the Trees (1950)