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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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In Praise of Decay

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(for Earth Day)

The forest floor,
a patchwork of cast-off leaves,
teams with busy life,
decomposing death —
breaking apart the pieces
which once fit together in being.

Detritus,
no one gazes at you in awe and wonder,
no one sings your stunning praise.
And yet the mighty oak,
the massive fig,
and the complex world within their structures,
owe their lives to your labour.

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Day Twenty-Two:  In honour of Earth Day, write a georgic.

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prayer

2 Comments

I was shocked
by your hostility.

“Prayer! 


Right! 


That’s about as useful
as air conditioning on a motorcycle!”

Although they were supposedly meant
for the ears of one,
you flung those words across the room with venom,
slapping quite a few colleagues in the face,
raising eyebrows and lowering the heads of others.

The force of the delivery stunned us all.

And it made me wonder:

What happened in your life to make you so angry?

In my evening reflection,
with you on my heart,
I bowed my head
and lifted you to the Lord
in prayer.

 

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Day Twenty-One: Write a poem that incorporates overheard speech.

 

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