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 |  Poems for years 4 and 5 of the Promptly Poetry Challenge. |
| A year's worth of poems, every week for 52 weeks, spanning 2023 and 2024, plus the year following, from August 2024 to August 2025.(provided I live that long, of course). |
| This is the last of the poems for the fourth year of Promptly Poetry Challenge 2023/2024. All subsequent poems are for 2024/2025. Expanse Oh Kansas horizon so flat like a pancake or ruler or hedgehog though the last is somewhat obscure. Line count: 1 Free verse For Promptly Poetry Challenge 2024, Week 52 Prompt: Shape Poetry/Concrete Poetry. |
 Dandelion Cast your fate to the wind and ride the wayward air in adventure blind and expectation fair. Cradled in the hand of fate may your landing find good soil in fields great and climate kind. But root both fast and deep to stake determined claim your face unto the sun must keep new glory bright as flame. Line count: 12 Rhymed abab For Promptly Poetry Challenge, 07.17.24 Prompt: As per illustration. |
| Dance is Still Movement Random blasts of the synapses not physical like Cocker’s but the brain firing the body with jerky impulse reaction the music alive in transmission one with the meaningless word and David Byrne reinventing dance as immersion in sound. Talking Heads robotic obfuscation as art form they plough their ragged field and Byrne their scarecrow striding the otherworld in song and dance somehow divine. Line count: 14 Free verse For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 50 Prompt: Dance. Note: Yes, this was written as a response to Ned’s poem on Joe Cocker. When nothing has occurred to me for a week, an immediate thought on hearing her idea was a straw to be grasped. David Byrne is surely Joe Cocker after intellectual processing. |
| Magical Madrigal I’ve tried to make these verses best, always at pains to pass the test, but sometimes I’ve had no real rest till falling back upon a jest. Perhaps it be the word falls dumb upon my ear so often numb, as if my mind was steeped in rum, for answers to the prompt don’t come. And so in situation tragic, I find myself in climes pelagic, in deserts without all foragic - it seems I’ve no ideas on magic. Line count: 12 Rhymed aaaa bbbb cccc For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 49 Prompt: Magical. |
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