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Rated: E · Book · Entertainment · #2268464
Entries to Express It In Eight from September 2020 to the present .
The number of poems enforces the use of blog format with ten poems per page.
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March 4, 2022 at 3:54pm
March 4, 2022 at 3:54pm
#1028328
No Sh*t, Sherlock?

Amy Winehouse is dead,
a huge talent gone too soon,
but I have found another -
an Irish lassie of volume,
sparkle, innocence and range,
with style and sass to match,
her name is Allie Sherlock.

Elementary, my dear Watson!



Line count: c 8
For Express It In Eight, 03.04.22
Prompt: Write a poem about something found.
Note: Sample https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3DzeutUStg

March 4, 2022 at 1:36pm
March 4, 2022 at 1:36pm
#1028317
Horizons

Out there, where the wind blows free,
the world is bound by horizons,
wide and limitless in open plains,
swaddled by forest in the cooler north,
and here, in the house, the world is my desk
where concentration binds the limits around me,
pierced only by a narrow portal, the net,
and my horizon beyond Cassiopeia.



Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 03.03.22
Prompt: Horizon.
March 4, 2022 at 1:34pm
March 4, 2022 at 1:34pm
#1028316
Memory

“Fingerprints on an abandoned handrail,” *
the fading trail of an accidental life,
those unremarkable moments stored
by a soul otherwise engaged, yet remembered
in high definition, sharp, clear but still
enigmatic, as though frozen instants recorded
by a camera swinging wildly on a strap,
yet now compelling to the aged mind.



Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 03.02.22
Prompt: Illustration of a fingerprint.
* Note: A quote from Bob Mortimer.

March 4, 2022 at 1:29pm
March 4, 2022 at 1:29pm
#1028315
Taking Stock

Old man on park bench,
raking through the years,
searching for reasons
and a meaning to life.

Dreaming in memories,
he smiles at a forgotten face,
understands at last
each step towards death.



Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 03.01.22
Prompt: Rake.

March 4, 2022 at 1:28pm
March 4, 2022 at 1:28pm
#1028314
A Sunday Remembered

Just one Sunday,
a bright sunny Sunday,
and, for a change,
the Friends’ meeting house,
bright, silent room,
heads in meditation,
windows bright with light,
the air numinous.



Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 02.27.22
Prompt: Sunday.

March 4, 2022 at 1:27pm
March 4, 2022 at 1:27pm
#1028313
Saturnalia

No Saturdays can compare
with those of my youth.
While parents snooze in bed,
kids own the tube
the cartoons fill the morning,
blessed sloth defeats
the demon duty,
and summer smiles with sunlight.



Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 02.26.22
Prompt: Saturday.

March 4, 2022 at 1:26pm
March 4, 2022 at 1:26pm
#1028312
Legal Tender

“I promise to pay the bearer on demand…”
not that I ever heard of anyone
so bold as to ask for the gold,
defeated, as no doubt they were,
as how to gain the most benefit
from the fabulous yellow metal,
the point being, of course,
to rid our pockets of such heavy tender.



Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 02.25.22
Prompt: 1862 – US law is passed authorizing the United States Note (greenback) into circulation, first flat paper money as legal tender.

March 4, 2022 at 1:25pm
March 4, 2022 at 1:25pm
#1028311
A Song of Suet

Dumplings should be made with suet,
white nuggets of gold we mined for
in a steaming stew to savour,
prospectors of the tasty treat,
as we were in our fabled heyday.

All mined out now,
and suet a forgotten dream;
small comfort that we know now how it’s made.



Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 02.24.22
Prompt: Dumpling.
March 4, 2022 at 1:23pm
March 4, 2022 at 1:23pm
#1028310
Toxic Consideration

Had my pen loaded with poison,
all primed and ready to write.
Then second thoughts eroded intent,
I inspected my motives instead.
What wrongs will be righted by this,
some cheap satisfaction at most?
Far better to rise above hatred
and let karma decide on the rest.



Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 02.23.22
Prompt: Poison.
March 4, 2022 at 1:22pm
March 4, 2022 at 1:22pm
#1028309
Drought

In their great pain
they prayed for rain,
devised new dances,
went into trances.

Storm clouds massed
in the skies at last,
but such was their fate,
the rain came too late.



Line count: 8
Rhymed aabb
For Express It In Eight, 02.22.22
Prompt: Illustration of dry plain with dead trees.

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