Wind blows twisted round the edge
Sharper ninety degree squared
Angled poised on concrete ledge
Gargoyle granite heart despaired
Straight and narrow, plumb declared
Wind blows twisted round the edge
Compass points no longer shared
Crooked staff would drive a wedge
Wrapped and trapped by thorny hedge
Disdainful eyes bleakly stared
Wind blows twisted round the edge
I’m curled and furled, back unspared
Raked and sanded, soft scars bared
Drilled a hole, my soul to dredge
I stand convicted, no one cared
Wind blows twisted round the edge
Another attempt at Quatern. AllPoetry prompt posted on facebook – “plumb”
Aberration words rhythmic form.
Wing beat bruises from passing birds,
Reminders that it’s not her norm,
Aberration words.
Her heart in free-verse oft deferred,
Though late this bird tries for the worm,
Still hopes the message not unheard.
She lost her mind, this rigid storm,
Frustration swells as anger spurred.
Crouched in phrases deemed lukewarm,
Aberration words.
Working on form. This is a Roundel. According to wikipedia:
A roundel (not to be confused with the rondel) is a form of verse used in English language poetry devised by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837–1909). It is a variation of the French rondeau form. It makes use of refrains, repeated according to a certain stylized pattern. A roundel consists of nine lines each having the same number of syllables, plus a refrain after the third line and after the last line. The refrain must be identical with the beginning of the first line: it may be a half-line, and rhymes with the second line. It has three stanzas and its rhyme scheme is as follows: A B A R ; B A B ; A B A R ; where R is the refrain.
I can see spring in winter, she told me
And I looked and looked
But it eluded me, though I wouldn’t say so
I didn’t want to disappoint
I never do
But the cold and white
Clouded over everything
And made my fingers numb
(or maybe my heart?)
I have all these vague memories
Of being young
Of not thinking about these things
Of not being so damn tired
And you would think me foolish
You are concrete and forgetful
When it comes to emotion
I am the kite
In an electrical storm
I really don’t have enough sense
To come in out of the rain
But the lightening is beautiful
And the rain lets me cry
In private
She sees dreams in darkness
I just moan and turn over
I used to know her
Now we are strangers
I left her behind
Or did she leave me?
Should I be excited by new ideas
When the world is slowing down?
Sinking under the weight of years
Of politics and bills
Dirt I can no longer wipe away
Or should I mutely accept
That we are not meant to live
On mars
And that the rings around Saturn
Are just gas
That diamonds are coal
Money is paper
We are dust
Prompt: I see spring in winter – line from a book and Sunday Scribblings prompt 312 – The Rest of The Story
why do you hide your face from me
stare into deep with no relief
no star to help this fool to see
a ship aground on coral reef
my heart is black as empty sky
why do you hide your face from me
silver cup of poison now dry
I float untethered drifting free
I rest my head but find no sleep
your peace withheld I am undone
why do you hide your face from me
I dread the rising of the sun
I will the clouds depart my eyes
unveil the glow to light my dreams
part darkest curtains please I cry
why do you hide your face from me
A quatern consists of 8-syllable lines and 4 quatrains. The first line of the first stanza is a refrain that is repeated in line 2 of the second stanza, line 3 of the third stanza and line 4 of the fourth stanza. The rhyme scheme:
Abab, cAca, adAd, eaeA where A is the refrain
we held ourselves easy
like turtles on a log
waiting for the sun
to warm outer shells
hoping for the warmth
to spread to bones
we held ourselves freely
as deer dive into dawn
wet with dew
lit by awakening sun
when the light
races ahead of the warmth
we held ourselves stilled
frozen like startled rabbits
blending into the grass
listening for the smallest breath
caught between
hiding or running
we held ourselves quieted
as the silken pond waited
as the trees cradled the nests
as the grass hid the beetle
as the clouds blanketed the sky
as the whole world sighed
and rested from the work of living
We ran throughout the night
The enemy storm did pound.
We ran throughout the night
While dark and thunder fell around.
We ran unto the break of day
Through tree and bush and hedge.
We ran unto the break of day
And found the river’s edge.
We ran though lungs would burst.
A thousand hooves to cleave the ground.
We ran though lungs would burst,
Our heartbeat matched the sound.
We ran for home and wife and babe,
The waters mixed with blood
We ran for home and wife and babe.
Bodhrán rhythm fed the flood.
We crossed the wide wide river,
A wall of horses ten men wide.
I hear the pipes within my soul.
I’ll run no more nor hide.
The lads and I to death will fight
With arrow, spear, claymore.
Though some may fall,
We’ll ride and fight
Till rest my head
On Scotland’s shore.
Image Credit: Tim Flach
Also inspired by Albannach
and as the storm subsides
we bide our time
we ride it out
slide it out of time
of rhyme
the world will welcome
warm and sun
will run the colors
all together whether
weather bruises outsides
inner heart tides
creep to sand and hands
reach out and clasp
and grasp the love that
always makes it through
the loudest thunder
under-pinning winning
in the ending of the hard times
bells chime ringing music
singing songs of hope and
peace to all we call to friends
well met we set
the corner stone and build
our houses out of bricks
and mud and love
to stand the test of time
and rain will fall
but through it all
we love
we wait
prevail
i walked on summer
leaving no bruise
on verdant softness
nightdress brushing
bony ankles
firefly leading on
you were there
i couldn’t find you
your breath easy in the dark
and though i ran
just out of reach
like the owl who spoke
i reached for your hand
fingers sliding loose
as i would give you
a dream
like sunlight pressed on
sleep closed eyes
warm sheet valley
the smell
of your cigarette
lingering
If the sky was to fall
into her hands
she would break it to pieces
the glassine pebbles
falling all over
her snow covered dress
dropping
to chapped knees
praying with frosty breath
and a cloudy heart
head bowed
under weight of crystal clouds
sun warmth
would thaw this bitten heart
banished
from sheeted concrete
there is foggy joy
over the next hill
invisible
through rime encrusted lashes
one tear falls
clarity
only to shatter
ringing through
the grey air
Sunday Scribbling #306 rest
In the puddled hours
that lay at the base
of the clock,
I wonder if I am leaving
and in the leaving
will there be grace?
I pull the tiny threads
ties that bound and
sometimes gagged,
and feel them travel
down the dreams
of future wonder
undone.
smoothing knots
like a brush drawn
through silver hair,
shimmer waves of
memory,
cascading down,
unbraided
over stooped shoulders.
weary I wish to close
sanded eyes,
and sink into dark.
cradled in safety,
doors barred against
nightmare wolves
that howl at
a gibbous moon.
What thoughts spin
through a midnight mind
hung with the stars
draped in velvet regret
a beautiful prison
unchanging eternal
all for a careless word
vanity’s prize
Does she dream
from her heavenly perch
of the daughter
who was bound
for the sin of the mother
and rescued by love
of another
In love with herself
with herself she
remains
now watched by a world
she can never attain
Image Credit: http://spaceshipearth1.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/cassiopeia.jpg
Over the horizon
waits a storm here,
a drought there,
and time moves.
Grasses bend before it,
sharp peaks round over.
Pearls and diamonds
are birthed
while I wait
in quiet
surrounded by motes,
light poured over my head
like a baptism
of star debris.
http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/ prompt: action
dark summers night
she reaches for light
magicked feet hold fast to ground
he creeps up behind her
wishes to bind her
brushing stars from her wings
oldest language he sings
she is bound
one tear tells
no love spells
earthbound a prison
though softened with love
keeps fairies from soaring
to heaven above
to breath in rivers
of stinging cold
that tastes of stars
and snowflakes
whispers of secrets
floating down rock-a-bye
sorrow tomorrow
peace tonight
softly curled around
the shivery moon
it is well
tree lights glow
through window panes
with my soul
staring into the dark
feet on solid ground
sweater tightly wrapped
I feel myself grow solid too
it is well
Three Word Wednesday offering: Immobile, proximity, retribution
and Sunday Scribbling: health
Fear is a thing
that sits in
close proximity to heart
and lungs.
squeezing ventricles
with no discernible pattern.
An elephant
sitting immobile
on your chest,
retribution for all
those Scarlett O’Hara
think about it
tomorrow moments.
glory shines
round here tonight
the day is done
peace is nigh
rose and peach
and lavender sky
calls all to quiet
the stillness moves
across the deep
I lay me down
my soul to keep
my soul to keep
the day is done
eyes close in faith
tomorrow comes
and sleeping sun
again will rise
color painting
morning skies
and with the sun
each greets the day
a gift to all
til once again
the evening falls
and sunset calls
the world to rest
another from the AllPoetry archives
no food satisfies like
words bubbling
syllabic chewing
soul on a parchment
plate all about
the presentation
pen just so
chewed up
eaten out
loud
more from the AllPoetry Archives
boneless puddled silk
contentment personified
feline sandy tongue
silent hunter stalking prey
study in life’s paradox
(Tanka – I think) from the AllPoetry archives
