The second of my collections of poems written for "Express It In Eight." |
As usual these days, I choose blog format because it offers more space for the work. |
Mount Huashan The way to heaven indeed, express service, no stops on the way, direct route and a brief flight, comfort like floating on air, guaranteed delivery to the gate gilded and marked arrivals, but not for me, no, not me. For me, heaven can wait. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 03.31.24 Prompt: Mount Huashan, China. |
Meddle The drawing approaches completion the writhing lines twisting, doubling, climbing upon each other, and layered, a complexity of dark and light and there, it’s done. But wait,an empty area, an open space, another line, it needs a little more, a final tweak… and Blast! It’s ruined. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 03.30.24 Prompt: Write a meddlesome poem. |
Sour Elixir of the gods with a hyena’s bite, leaves your tongue in knots and your face a sight. Sheila’s lemon surprise, oh, concoction rude, will shrink your eyes, leave you wrinkled and screwed. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 03.29.24 Prompt: Write a sour poem. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9SXhs1Pogc |
Think Connect to my senses? Try disconnecting - you can’t. Their rule’s so intensive, switch them off? No, you shan’t. Oh, I know what you mean: let emotion be king, but to me that’s obscene; only logic allows me to sing. Line count: 8 Rhymed (including near-rhymes) abab For Express It In Eight, 03.28.24 Prompt: Connect to your senses. |
Fearless Fred Fearless Fred never dead so it’s said by Tumbler Ted. This same Fred with hair so red once fully fed sleeps in bed. Line count: 8 Rhymed aaaa For Express It In Eight, 03.27.24 Prompt: Fearless. |
A Flimsy Poem Be careful with this! It’s not very strong a touch stronger than kiss and it will not last long. There are some parts of it so wispy and thin they’ll break with a hit as if made of tin. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 03.26.24 Prompt: Write a flimsy poem. |
Cusp Bridge over mirrored water suspension of self over glass here in the gap between worlds be still in the stillness of time High in the frozen forever snows of the peak down its face silent in highest of dreaming be caught as a mote in the dawn. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 03.25.24 Prompt: Illustration of man on suspension bridge over water with mountain behind. |
Life According to Jonathan The sun comes up, the sun goes down, my skin is wrinkled, my shell is brown, you speak of things my years have known, yet all my days elsewhere were sown. I’ve not seen this and I’ve not seen that, to me it seems the world’s still flat, and if I linger longer here, the day’s the same from where I peer. Line cont: 8 Rhyming couplets For Express It In Eight, 03.24.24 Prompt: Jonathan the tortoise is the oldest known living land animal. |
Curlew There’s a reason they talk of the curlew’s call in broad flat sea marshes in the mists of dawn where the cold lingers in muddy backwaters and the soul can be alone as never before. It’s a sound that speaks of vast emptiness that wraps us in the fog of separation from kin and calls forth a spectre of bleak nostalgia so much more than Hepburn’s “The loons, the loons.” Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 03.23.24 Prompt: Choose a word or two from one of the three poems and write a poem around it. I chose the word “curlew” from Longfellow’s The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls. |
Politicians An assembly of windbags, of airheads indeed, spineless and empty, they’re mastered by greed. Absolute nothing can fill their shoes, send them off somewhere, Alaska has need of all that hot air. Line count: 8 Rhymed abcb For Express It In Eight, 03.22.24 Prompt: As per illustration. |