09 February 2012 - Savor - sonnet

This one is resonant from my writing chapters 52 and 53 tonight, wherein I describe what it’s like to be kissed by one that releases the guilt and shame.  Like a breath of fresh air or a sip of undiluted wine (they used to dilute the wine to make it last longer and also, make it cheaper), love can be invigorating.

09 February 2012 - Savor - sonnet

In light too plagued by world’s obsessions,

she leaned in close and offered lips of breath;

as guilt and shame were drowning lessons,

he chose to rescue living hearts from death.

Unsure that being there brought reason,

he’d faced the folds of night and found a crease,

a slip in time where mercy’s season

turned to grace and brought defined release.

I wasn’t there but understanding

became a living breath of light in kiss;

there’s something to just comprehending

and how a covenant makes contracts miss.

Dilute the wine and drink much longer

but drunkards think to sip’s not stronger.

02-27-12

params: abab cdcd efef gg

a twist here in that I used trimeter plus an amphibrach (low-high-low) to end L1 & 3 of each S

08 February 2012 - Sing What Love Knows - refrein

Though it's actually the 16th (yeah, yeah, still behind), I thought I'd post the last three lines from one of my novels, 'the DeerHunter' because I was reading a thread at Absolute Write wherein it was suggested we post our last three lines.  I didn't think the thread (nor what anyone had written) would be interesting––kind of like I feel about the first three (which, apparently by those Novel Gods, is supposed to be one of the litmus tests for judging a book) lines of a book.  Anyway, I was surprised and since I'm procrastination re REALLY writing (in Beryl), I thought I'd do a poem from the below.  Anyway, let's see what evolves...(oh, and since I've been procrastinating by downloading karaoke versions of songs I've written alternate lyrics for, I'll do the poem by one of them; Adele's 'Fire to the Rain', which is a favorite of mine, both original and instrumental).

He pulled the string of the bow across the old Celtic instrument and the crwth created a melody that reminded him of dating; it held a sweet breathlessness of waiting, a nervous thrum of the fingers, and a promise that couldn’t be explained except by the persistent patience of the Forest’s creatures.  Beside him, Sarah’s voice rose as she remembered the lyrics he’d taught her. 

Adding their sound as part of the chorus, a flight of geese swept past as the song wove a tale of returning, of finding a return to roads…

08 February 2012 - Sing What Love Knows - refrein

He tried to harness every note that flowed

but ancient instruments have minds that mold,

and past the breath of quickening love there lies,

a melody that waited nervously

for patience to enthrall them both with cries;

between what tears and fumbling fingers hold,

two voices so constrained sing what love knows.

Each subtle texture of the thorny rose,

each pillaged bud that’s fallen to the ground,

each forest eye that watches lovers finds

that lace and skin like leather’s clasp

is more than envy lust designs;

as melodies that resonate with sound,

two voices so constrained sing what love knows.

Remembered lyrics, songs that memory clothes,

release their gathered wings to rafts of sky,

and whether winds will bring them back or not,

is on love’s lips when storms press lives to page.

Sometimes there’s more when less is not a lot,

and for this reason, time stalls painful cries;

two voices so constrained sing what love knows

of finding roads, returning what love grows,

the autumn geese will lift and wing away,

united with the promise journey’s back

will see no break, will form and fly with truth;

they’ll fill their flight and search for what they lack

beyond the song and flowing words; this day,

two voices so constrained sing what love knows.

02-16-12

params:  Refrein 

The "Refrein" is a form from the Netherlands.  It consists of 

4 or more stanzas containing the same number of lines and 

constructed in the same rhyme scheme.  All of them end 

with an identical line called "the stock."  Within the lines, the 

number of syllables is not fixed.  The last stanza is an 

acrostic, spelling the name of the poet.

(for this one, I chose; abcdcbA)

07 February 2012 - Faces Close - chant royale

Okay, I was a bit rusty with the last chant, thinking it came out alright but I could probably do better.  The thing with chants is that they are so long that it’s easy to get bogged down in the middle.  That, plus the fact it’s hard to do a lot of descriptive lines and leave the telly-ness behind; they’re very long.  But, I’m going to see what I can do with today’s poem, another chant, and put more poeticism within the framework.

This one is actually from an old idea I had almost 4 years ago but never employed.  It’s basically about a woman putting on her makeup and perhaps, a reason why.

07 February 2012 - Faces Close - chant royale

The mirror’s frame reflects where light has strayed

while porcelain fingers lift the brush like flame;

so careful, careful, ply concealer’s way,

in one shade lighter than foundation’s aim.

Deft hand, she dots the eyes and crosses tease,

her fingertips a sponge, her skin appeased.

Foundations then are strong should he explore,

a dot or two first here then there, restore

the hue that matched, brings color to the rose;

she’s just begun to build what night implores,

so breakup, makeup, place our faces close.

So delicate and intricate,  she sways,

and dabbing powder pressed not loose again,

she’s holding bricks foundation’s laid and prayed

that everything stays put and there’s no stain.

A saucer’s cream, her skin is lapped degrees,

yet brows await; more powder brushed will see

that pencil’s sin won’t make it out the door.

She’s found a slanted brush, a hard one scores

in lines that arch above her eyes and throws

attention back, affection’s sweets in store.

So breakup, makeup, place our faces close.

To cast a shadow, eyes will have their say,

and modesty won’t shoulder any blame

as light and medium lures dark to play

above soul’s window which lust vows to claim.

Adrift, delighted chooses shades in threes,

in thin line appliques, her lids marquees

where brazen sleeps with shy, demure implores

a liner brush that’s cake and damp.  Before

her lash’s line is found, each edge will pose

for highlights only dark to light affords;

so breakup, makeup, place our faces close.

Like darkest shades of night, mascara preys;

its feast forbidden fruit that flows and stains

when tears whose sudden fall brings track’s dismay

to cheeks of porcelain like treasured rain.

She places two thin coats that rise like sea

but sink like night and taken seriously,

she dares then smile and finding apple’s shore,

paints low to keep her eyes from being ignored;

alone is not an option she’ll compose.

Apply the blush which setting suns adore,

so breakup, makeup, place our faces close.

The facet of her mirror gleams and weighs

the velvet glow of skin which lust inflames;

she’s darkly sultry––nothing done halfway––

and narrow is the line of pleasured pain.

A pout of skin shows just one lacking key;

some lips remain smooth pink but never these––

there’s color that transcends what lens records,

and paired together, promise gapes, deplored,

as swallows wait and breath escapes, time slows.

She’s dark as plum and tart with lips’ reward,

so breakup, makeup, place our faces close.

She traces lines my love has lusted for;

she dresses for the mirror’s face and more;

there’s more than just respect as effort shows

when life meets love, reforged are broken swords;

so breakup, makeup, place our faces close.

02-14-12

params: ababccddedE x5, + ddedE

06 February 2012 - Relation - chant royale

I’ve been behind, but I explained that earlier, that I’m keying more on the novel and so, have to play catchup here.  This means I tend to pick forms which are easier for me to formulae a poem.  In this case, I had the insane idea to do a chant royale, probably the most difficult since not only is it 60 lines having one rhyme of 18 different rhymes, I also tend to make my chants iambic.  Okay, the poem below; I feel the need for speed...which movie was that quote from?  Why Top Gun of course...hope this uplifts the quality of the poetry being blogged.

Below, as is typical, I outline what each stanza is all about; with longer poems, it helps keep me on track and in this case, allows me to detail the poem easier.

06 February 2012 - Relation - chant royale

There’s idols made each every other day,

they sing, they dance, they’re good at playing the game,

no light, no light, they think I’m fucking fey;

the riddles wind about each choice restrained

but judges we are all so judged we be.

There’s never much for others left to see

though spotlight’s heat has seared the living cords,

and sometime blood we bleed still drips from swords;

kicked down the stairs and humbled by the fall,

what winners win are dressed in cheap awards––

no dream, no dream, relation chooses all.

They’ve spun the words, they’ve tilted tops and say,

they pray and only one right way, they claim

there’s rules, there’s rules, and more still on the way

though lightning frocks they wear have been defamed;

what right hands do when left hands can’t agree

is spill the blood on altar's feigned decree.

Don’t light my fire or dare to think I’ve bored

between the wine and stone where tablets stored,

a litany of golden calves recalls

a barbecue of riblets Adam whored;

no dream, no dream, relation chooses all.

Two ladders lift with lofty reach today,

and no small feat, their height can’t be explained;

American dreams and churches front displays

of brand new grandeur where mere words are blamed

and rungs of wood carved steps of faith for free,

then closed the ears to cries of those in need;

climb higher, higher––there’s so many shores

to reach and breach, to force and re-adore.

Don’t hesitate, don’t instigate, don’t call––

the truth is come and words won’t be ignored;

no dream, no dream, relation chooses all.

Two sticks attached and slung at odds still prey

upon the minds and hearts of those whose aim

turned blindfold’s kiss into a soul’s decay

with thorns while lashes lace and bones exclaim

there never was a taller leafless tree

that held the world’s blood at Calgary;

no tears, no tears but one still cried and poured,

he begged forgiveness even though we swore

no kingdom come, no will be done, time stalled

and choking back the dust of birth before

no dream no dream relation chooses all.

The safety net beneath the idol sways,

religion’s bottom fills with shit and stains,

there’s rot in wood the world seeks to stay,

but no way can you take it with you reigns.

When shovels bite and bury dreams in pleas,

then look behind and fall from rungs’ marquee;

surrender never looked so good restored.

Go deep to mine a wealth of souls accord,

all ladders reach from depths to which you’ve crawled

and finding nothing but an end you’re floored;

no dream, no dream, relation chooses all.

Uplift the man and fall from grace brings forth

the inside view of how religion scored.

When rules beget what pride has scried and scrawled;

when ends become beginnings; bar the door,

no dream, no dream, relation chooses all.

02-14-12

1.=american dream

2.=religion

3.=ladders to each

4.=the cross

5.=no safety net for the last ladder

Envoi = relation vs religion

params: ababccddedE x5, ddedE

05 February 2012 - Just A Game - rubliw

(note; I've just moved the entire blog from Wordpress to blogspot, simply because I couldn't cut and paste AND retain my original formatting, NOR could I affect it in Wordpress' edit window, so after wasting a lot of time trying to make it work, hence the switch.  So you'll see all entries from January 01 until now are dated Feb 06.)


At church today, they did a ‘super bowl’ sermon sunday and this is just one of the thoughts that went through my head, despite the fact I liked how they showed Tim Tebow’s life as something to which we should aspire and nothing to hate.

05 February 2012 - Just A Game - rubliw

Today

there was a game

it’s called the super bowl

and every year it comes and goes

and every year, amazed, I shake my head;

there’s people:  hungry, poor and ill.

Consumers never see

it’s just a game,

today.

02-05-12

params: 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 iambic

04 February 2012 - Shake It Out - sonnetto rispetto

Another inspired by a Florence song; ‘Shake it Out’.  This one says that after the pain of heartbreak, if the song can be sung and closure be had, once you’ve shaken the past off or out, that a new breath awaits beyond the crying.

04 February 2012 - Shake It Out - sonnetto rispetto

They say to shake it out, just let it go,

I have a playlist made for broken hearts,

but any movement that I make will know

I’ve cheated tunes before and failed to start;

there’s only some that reach my pain and grow,

there’s very few that never leave a scar.

Release the music, make the chorus come,

refrains delve deep and mine for chords of soul

whenever love has littered fields with lies.

Beyond the night of moon there’s days of sun,

and each that’s new will work to make you whole

if breath has shaken life-awakened cries.

02-05-12

params: abababcc defdef

03 February 2012 - Trouble - rondine

A song by Lindsay Buckingham, “Trouble”, inspired this poem.

03 February 2012 - Trouble - rondine

I think I see trouble, blowing like the breeze,

it’s coming like the ocean, cresting foam,

its swallowing beaches, calling me home

its chilling the blood, hearts and mind to freeze

extending sutured hands that seek to seize

its here to turn the sand of all I own;

I think I see trouble.

I let her go and never asked her please,

she turned but I could never be alone

and trust that ever waited if I’m owned.

The tide is rising while I bend my eyes and knees;

I think I see trouble.

02-05-12

params:  (R)abbaabR abbaR

02 February 2012 - Without Love - misc rhyme

Fairly straight forward; without love, many of our cliched signs would mean nothing.  With love, song is alive.

02 February 2012 - Without Love - misc rhyme

If the air was meant to glitter

songs would not be necessary

rings of diamonds never fit her

holding hands not ever scary

such is love and life together

heart and mind elude contrary.

Love birds never be together

separate cages doomed to dying,

roses stalled as buds aren’t better,

winds that ring like chimes belying

sunny days with stormy weather.

Eyes alight you claim I’m singing

beating back each note’s percussion

wound and bound in strings I’m stringing

finger on my lips, discussion’s

flown on melodies you’re winging.

02-05-12

params: ababab

01 February 2012 - Sword Balancing - sijo

This shows how in every problem, there’s choices that can be made, such as how we present ourselves despite the other, and whether we line up on the hard side of logic or on the soggy bottomed emotional side.  In the end, I figure a balance is the way to go, which means some of us have to find that falling to destruction can happen on either side.

01 February 2012 - Sword Balancing - sijo

The line is thin, we walk it always daring to look down;

the choices come, brace and posture; emotion duels with logic;

by faith we close our eyes and cross the rope, swords balanced.

02-05-12

params: 3 lines, 44-46 sylls, each line has 14-15 sylls.  L1=problem, L2= develops or turns the thought, L3=resolves or concludes the theme.  The first half of the final line employs a twist by means of surprise in meaning/sound/tone/or other device.  To end with a profound observation, originality of wit, or strong emotional finale is a must.

31 January 2012 - Scar Tissue - sonnet

I’ve avoided writing for this blog the past three days mainly because I didn’t want to fall into the catharsis writing gives.  And yet, here I am.  So, Erik left yesterday and all the feelings are being stirred; some good, some not so good.  The past two entries along with this one are products of melancholy and pity, so the writing is much too telly for my tastes.  Still, it is what it is because along with such brooding and moody thoughts, I still want to see the sun rise on hope.  Here’s praying it does.  Don’t mind the tenor of this last, it is something that had to happen and maybe I can get back to more introspective and illuminating patterns.

31 January 2012 - Scar Tissue - sonnet

I haven’t wanted anything to write,

but still I must retain my time and stall

the clutching fingers creased by folds of night;

I can’t explain just what that means at all,

though expectations still exist in droves.

It means that daylight hasn’t been my mold,

a heart that should be grounded, vents and roves

‘cause all I want I never seem to hold.

Another poem that mocks me as my skin,

another try at stemming pain and hurt;

it all comes down to paying for my sins

and hoping someday as it was reverts

to how it should be, promised by the Word;

it’s hell when life is lived like broken swords.

02-01-12

params: abab, cdcd, efef, gg

30 January 2012 - Flight - sonnet

30 January 2012 - Flight - sonnet

Piano chords will rise and reach the sky,

the well of violins dares soothe the tears;

there’s winds I’ve passed and brought about to cry,

are nothing stopping melodies of fear.

Too far away to reach my touch, he’s gone––

there’s empty time before me, in my hand;

and though I’d not begrudge him sons of dawn,

I find I miss him just because I can.

I feel the seasons follow where I lead,

biographies that show I’m looking back;

the more I lose the more I know I need

the more I realize just what I lack.

In flight there’s only air beneath your wings

we wait for what the new horizons bring.

02-01-12

params: sonnet, abab, cdcd, efef, gg