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 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. |
| A Cautionary Tale Bad one-eyed Jack, the pirate boarder, by reputation once a treasure hoarder, buried his stash in a chest on desert isle, hid from watching eyes these many miles. I found a map with hoard marked with an X, and searched through many years and wrecks, but found no trace of treasure ‘neath the sun, while Jack went straight and married Lady Fun. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 03.25.26 Prompt: Write a poem about a hoarder. |
| Containers Oil lamps speak of genies bottles merely potate the drunkard dreaming meanies while Arabian heads rotate. Crystal glades for fairies dragons in hookah smoke gremlins for the contrary and writers what she spoke. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 03.24.26 Prompt: Write a poem about a genie bottle. |
| Count on Me My master is Sir Pettigrew, which means more to me than you, since he treats me pretty well, as well as a horse can tell. He keeps me in a fine stable with all manner of foods as he’s able; he’s a knight and a count, you see, and happiest when riding me. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 03.23.26 Prompt: Write a “count on me” poem. |
| Ownership I belong to a cat. What d’you think about that? I know it because she told me, She’s the cat that bought and sold me. I’m in her territory. I belong in her history. My purpose in life is feline. As a result, my connection’s divine. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 03.22.26 Prompt: Write a territorial poem. |
| Riders of the Wind Swift by name and swift in flight only in nesting do you alight Then there’s swallow when fields are fallow in winter’s cold you’ve left the fold. Line count: 8 Rhymed abcb ddee For Express It In Eight, 03.21.26 Prompt: Write a poem about swiftly moving. Note: Swifts do not touch the earth for at least two years after leaving the nest for the first time. They catch flying insects for food, drink rain water in the air, and sleep on the wing. There is no creature more adapted to life in flight than swifts. |
| Silenced This poem only mumbles, a hostage to the world - it’s voice is surely rumbles and in a corner hurled. It’s plain that it is muffled and mouth is stuffed with rag - no wonder if it’s ruffled, the rag is just a gag. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 03.17.26 Prompt: Write a gagging poem. |
| Kicking the Habit Habit is my friend there’s things I cannot end and habit helps me half the time and this line doesn’t rhyme Sometimes my friend is bad it really drives me mad when I indeed can’t rule my head my friend kicks me instead. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 03.16.26 Prompt: Write a kicking poem. |
| Grandfather Thoughts She hovers over him, to catch him out, or prevent harm? He’s unaware, armoured in innocence, and too young to care. Oh, cosseted grandchild, sewing hope abroad. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 03.15.26 Prompt: Write a hovering poem. |
| Advice to a Snail Be grateful for your shell - think of the living hell the slug must face each day when homeless he must stay. Consider your defence - your armour gets you hence, for you may hide inside, abide your ride and glide. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb, six syllables per line For Express It In Eight, 03.12.26 Prompt: Advice from an elderly snail to a young snail. |
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Dan is a poet; I can point out at least one of ID's songs that has a perfectly symmetrical syllable count. Ryan leaves more up to the skill of his voice...
