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Autumn

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Autumn
and this weight
is heavy
at the back of my mind,
(push it down.
keep it at bay.)
in the pit of my stomach.
(take a deep breath.
push it down.)

Distracted for a time,
when I stop,
I wonder why
everything is so onerous.
and then it hits me again —
the dread.

Will I know
when it’s time to say good-bye?
Will I be able to let go?

Is that look an appeal
or confusion?
Is there pain?
I wish you could tell me.
But your eyes speak
and I’m afraid.
I hear your ragged breathing
and I fear what comes next.

It’s inevitable.
It hurts.
But I will be there
and hold you
and whistle
in the face of death.

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Day Twenty-Nine:   Take one of your favorite poems and find a very specific, concrete noun in it.  Use that word as a building block for a new poem.

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A Most Gorgeous Spider

9 Comments

Little spider;
jumper, glider,
wind rider,
web slider.
Eight eyes,
Super spy,
dinner’s prize —
juicy flies.
Legs with hair,
four pairs,
bugs to snare
for evening fare.
Beauty, you,
rainbow hues,
dancing too,
a mate to woo.
Misunderstood
in the hood,
you do such good.
Praise we should.
But instead
you we dread —
swat your head,
tear your thread.
And all you do
is eat one or two
‘sqeeters that flew
(after blood they drew).
If they knew
they’d thank you.
Or maybe not,
on second thought,
no matter how many caught
when you they spot
they instinctually swat.
So hide away,
not predator, prey.
In recesses stay,
low you must lay
until some day
come what may
they shout, “Hey!
Here’s a most gorgeous spider!”

 

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Day Twenty-Eight:  Write a poem poem using Skeltonic verse.

I love spiders.
And one of my favourites is the JUMPING SPIDER. They are beautiful.
I dare you to visit this page, watch a peacock spider video and NOT fall in love with these gorgeous creatures!

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Syrah

19 Comments

Pungent purple perfume
assaults the senses.

Cool, smooth liquid
rolls onto the tongue.

Sharp acrid tang
flows across the palate
and slides down the oesophagus,
coating the inside of the throat
with dark crimson inebriation.

“Why,”
she puzzles,
“does anyone enjoy
drinking
rotten
grape juice?”

 

 

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Day Twenty-Seven:  Write a poem that explores your sense of taste!

 

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From Another Time

4 Comments

Given the band
upon which it was fastened,
it appears to have been made
as an item of apparel.

However,
the numerals suggest
something much more practical,
perhaps a measuring device.

Small, though,
so it couldn’t have gauged
anything of substance.

Two bars
form an acute angle
whose vertex is at the centre of the characters.
Does the fact 
that they point
to the symbols 4 and 6
mean anything?

It dates from the dark era
when humans used
all sorts of random digits to comprise a whole —
3 feet,
12 eggs,
1 760 yards.

What was it they cherished
that they grouped into 24?

 

 

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Day Twenty-Six:  Write a poem exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist.

 

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Cornered by Time

1 Comment

Trapped
on a train
which does not stop.

tickticktickticktickticktick

This second
is now history.

tickticktickticktickticktick

The next minute
flies by
and is the past.

tickticktickticktickticktick

An incident
becomes a memory,
metamorphoses into a memoir,
and crumbles into dust.

tickticktickticktickticktick

This small space
which is my now,
holds me
and will not
let me go.

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Day Twenty-Five:  Write a poem that explores a small, defined space.

 

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Evangelising the Fowl

2 Comments

wolf and birds

Enraptured
they flocked
to hear
the Right Reverend
eloquently pontificate
on the particular joys
of savouring avian cuisine.

Some,
they say,
were converted
and
remained
for the evening repast.

 

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Day Twenty-Four:  Write a poem of ekphrasis — that is, a poem inspired by art.  Additional challenge, make it a particular kind of art – the marginalia of medieval manuscripts.

 

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Sacrifice

6 Comments

Red
stirs passion
in human hearts
giving them emotional blindness
Infidelity

Guilt
pricks conscious
pronouncing death sentence
redeeming grace through blood
Red.

 

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Day Twenty-Three:  Write a double elevenie.

 

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