Tuesday, March 27, 2012

25 February 2012 - Bloody Weave - triolet





More musing from the argument; but, this is just the way I let the emotions run free while permanently caging them.
25 February 2012 - Bloody Weave - triolet
Annealed to convention, she hates;
there’s blood within the carpet’s weave.
With venom, serpent chooses mates
annealed to convention.  She hates
the way my tongue so aggravates.
Is it so hard to then believe
annealed to convention she hates,
there’s blood within the carpet’s weave?
3-28-12
params: A8, B8, a8,A8,a8,b8,A8,B8

24 February 2012 - Nightwish - rap sonnet




Just something that flowed while listening to ‘Feel for You’ by Nightwish, the orchestral metal band.
24 February 2012 - Nightwish - rap sonnet
Tremble and flitter, chide and chitter
forcibly remove yourself, just go;
resembling litter, stain the ground,
between the pavement grooves, you’ll flow.
Stutter and gasp, there isn’t time to tell
which lie has led you here, and which did not;
shuttered in the grasp, falling down the well,
stroked by many fears, you’ve slipped all knots.
Like heavy metal, rake the sound until it cuts,
bleed and die, then bleeding, die some more;
if all such music takes and pounds, then strut––
can’t tell you when to listen or what for.
Release the dogs, there’s hares to chase and call,
and only one hole down which we forever fall.
3-28-12
params: lots of rhyme, exterior and interior, some kind of rhythmic beat

23 February 2012 - Living In-Between - fv




Just an idle rambling musing, sparked by an argument with T tonight...
23 February 2012 - Living In-Between - fv
If life is one long breath
and we get only one
moment
to exhale
and
only one moment
to
inhale,
can you
live
desperately enough
to make
the in-between
matter?
3-28-12

Sunday, March 25, 2012

22 February 2012 - Kiss Met - aubade





Here’s something else Audrey liked to believe in; kissing, kissing a lot.  So, let’s see what I can do with this...
22 February 2012 - Kiss Met - aubade
He trimmed the rain, she washed the moon
and in between
kisses chased the stars
He couldn’t sing, she was deaf and mute
and in between
kisses lit night’s candles
He had empty pockets, she had expectations
and in between
kisses burned a hole
His awkward shyness, her love of riddles
and in between
kisses were served like salads
He waited by the curb, she waited inside
and in between
kisses opened doors
He stammered when he called, she only listened
and in between
courage kissed patience
His car broken down, she always took the L
and in between
kisses met with kismet
**
They say time stalls when love is being kissed;
and I’m not here to dispute that fact.
3-26-12
params: a love song set at dusk/night.

21 February 2012 - Prettiest Girls - rinterzato




This poem’s theme springs from part of a quote on a blogger’s ‘about me’ page, the specific line from something Audrey Hepburn once said; “I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls”.  Should be self explanatory from here.
21 February 2012 - Prettiest Girls - rinterzato
The words belong to silver screens of yore
‘believe that happy girls are prettiest’
there’s resonance when application’s core
brings light to bear on lessons soon learned best.
There’s smiles and lips that widen yet unseen,
there’s cheeks that never touch the eyes or soul
and depths that never stirred, make looks obscene;
too many paper rags on racks are tolled.
there’s three dimensions,
there’s sight and sound
there’s no pretensions,
where hearts are found
there’s more to winks
there’s breadth to sighs
these chains hold links
like phony holds its lies
Don’t turn or move too sudden––you’ll be gone,
a profile disappearing, set on edge;
and turning full, your back will change like dawn
and paper thin, facades cry beauty’s hedged.
I know what Audrey means, I know that type––
when beauty in the holder’s eye is hype.
3-26-12
params: rinterzato;  any sonnet with 8 shorter lines interspersed either metered or not, rhymed or not.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

20 February 2012 - Where Song Ends - rinterzato




This one shows two sides of love; the waiting and longing, and the promise of commitment.  More an image in my head which I poeticized.
20 February 2012 - Where Song Ends - rinterzato
She lay on the bed, her arm extended;
moonlight, intruder, candle exhausted;
wine glass, it’s cracking, her faith accosted;
alone, she’s alone, her heart’s not mended.
he strums the strings inviting doubt,
he hums the things, she could do without.
Her lips,  near her pillow, but breath, far away;
breaking, porcelain, fragile, in pieces;
vagrant, her arm lies, consumed, lies will sway;
her mind, like her heart, fulfilled night’s creases.
he’s calling her, she’s dreaming back,
he’s stalling her, streams drowning knack.
There bare, understudy, enslaved, her eyes close;
past wait, she’s naked, looking for promise;
bedsheets, lost eddies, curling, she’s exposed;
blooded, cut roses, won’t last long, like this.
his song like love, fleeting sorrow,
and gone too long, forgets tomorrow.
Classic, like a painting, she lies, midnight oils;
pigments, best from grounds grown in fertile soil.
he styles the strings, she plies canvas,
his song refrains, her brush can’t stand less.
3-21-12
params:  rinterzato;  any sonnet with 8 shorter lines interspersed either metered or not, rhymed or not.

19 February 2012 - Creeping Jenny - rondelet


I set up two on shore ‘digging and basking’ places for the turtles in my pond today, taking some errant strands of a creeping, spreading plant called Creeping Jenny from the garden and transplanting them.  I’ve seen pictures and hope I get the same results; ground hugging dense, light green leaflets that will cling to stone and dangle in the pond water.  Should be a very natural look and Creeping Jenny is very hardy.
Now, the below starts off describing what appears to be a girl, Jenny, and attributing a creeping nature to her.  She is also seen as spreading the dirt, planting, sowing, planting in places where dirt/soil/nutrients are poor.  As she stretches herself, she becomes many.  Stone can be seen here as those that have no heart but when Jenny arrives, she can reap a bountiful harvest.  The shore can be a person’s well being and this she clothes in fine, green finery.
But perhaps you think this poem is just about a low growing ground cover which once established, is both dense and lush.  Yeah, right.
19 February 2012 - Creeping Jenny - rondelet
Creeping, Jenny
spreads her fingers where dirt is thin.
Creeping, Jenny
will stretch out, becoming many
lace strands over stone.  Once she’s in,
she’ll dress the shore in fine green skin;
Creeping Jenny.
3-21-12
params:  4A,8b,4A,8a,8b,8b,4A


18 February 2012 - Begin at Home - rondelet




I’m out of practice with this next form, the rondelet.  In the past, I could hold conversations with this form and it is actually quite fun and easy.  But it does lend itself to lighter poetry, the like of which I don’t do much.  I tend to much deeper themes, so this one below is a departure.  The next will be a better attempt at more depth.  For this one though, I’m saying that one should take the wisdom of the Bible and apply it first at home; that if you can’t make it work there, it’s pretty hard to do so in the world at large.  Just my two cents in this matter.
18 February 2012 - Begin at Home - rondelet
Begin at home;
 time takes the verse and bridges fronts.
Begin; at home
the words are written, carved in stone––
no need for hand stands, flips or stunts.
As the quiver, an arrow’s hunt
begins at home.
3-21-12
params: 4A,8b,4A,8a,8b,8b,4A

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

17 February 2012 - Sharp Ax - haiku




Heh, well, did you think I was done?  That’s the thing about short poems, especially haiku; there’s not a lot of room to be expressive in the extreme.  I like to rant, I like to vent, and mainly because it seems like when I talk, there’s not a lot of contemplative listening going on and I feel like I have to rephrase and regroup my opinionated assault.  Of course, that’s only THEIR opinion...
This one shows how being a writer means you’re attached to the literary tree; in this case, I sure wish I could cut loose from the main trunk as this tree is used as the base material for a gallows.
17 February 2012 - Sharp Ax - haiku
fruit all around me
a writer’s tree carves gallows
I need a sharp ax
3-20-12
params: 5-7-5 Americanized version

16 February 2012 - Blinders- haiku




Yeah, another slamming the current cultural norm that eschews poetry in novels let alone in its pure form.  I can’t help but think that all of those I read at Absolue Write would be great shell con men (and women) in the days when culture reached for more than titillation.  According to them, it’s all about the money and all for entertainment.  Poor shallow saps...
16 February 2012 - Blinders- haiku
against the rail, running
no whip needed for winners
prose jockey blinders
3-20-12
params: 5-7-5 Americanized version

15 February 2012 - Broken Rungs - haiku




I read a thread tonight, extolling the virtue of NOT putting poetry into prose novels.  I know this is probably culture dictating art, but the many shallow and febrile minds (of the reading audience) that currently exists makes me want to vomit.  I know most of the advice I get/read is geared toward making an author some money, but seriously, the idea that most will skip, advise abstinence, and in general flames the whole idea of poetry (ESPECIALLY in novels) really galls me.  I shouldn’t rant and just let the ignorance level eventually bottom out, understanding that this same audience of whom I’m trying to reach, isn’t worth the effort.  Okay, having a bad people moment, but the idiocy is surpassed only by their ignorance.  And this is coming from writers; sheesh!
So, guess you can see what this poem is all about...ruby verse being the juice of the fruit, which when bitten and consumed, is sweet.  And better, it’s sweeter when the picker has to reach for the fruit.  And because so many don’t, reach, try, care, they become the ones whose ladders are broken, albeit by their own shallow tastes.  Okay, that was a fun rant...on to the poem.
15 February 2012 - Broken Rungs - haiku
ruby verse drowns chin
plum is sweeter when reached for
too many broken rungs
3-20-12
params: 5-7-5 syllables (Americanized version)

Sunday, March 18, 2012

14 February 2012 - Stopping Before Starting - hendecasyllabic





This one is based on a conversation I had with another poet in which he stated that about line three or so, he could tell the poem was not up to his standards and therefore, time to stop.  I argued that the idea needs to be expressed, whether it be done well or not was not as important as finishing.  THEN, knowing what a poem should look like, applying those attributes and improving the presentation.  That stopping before you really get started meant keeping beauty in the can instead of letting it out...something like that!
14 February 2012 - Stopping Before Starting - hendecasyllabic
Coarse at first, it’s a shame you can’t put words down,
pinching minds and a heart that just won’t do it––
this is where you’re beguiled, bemused, and fucked up,
held behind and imprisoned, words were lightning,
thunder bolts in a play you once were writing;
now they’re dead in the silence you won’t finish.
Spark the spark––in a perfect world you’d know it,
chained by links you reformed were of your doing,
hit the third line and start defending quitting,
leave the music because your ears are tone-deaf.
Let the night wings of motion fly before you
then creation of verse will find you dragging...
This the way you’re intending art to perish?
Keep the whining and wines of lines will burgeon,
lifting song in a key that language pines for.
Still, there’s plenty of room for you to join them;
YOU know, all of the others walking sleeping...
Finish, polish; remember, life needs growing.
Taxes...marry the cat––oh, lovely notions...
3-18-12
params:  trochee dactyl, 3 trochees

13 February 2012 - Leave Without a Mark - planet poetica sonnet




This poem shows the dark promise of love without commitment, how the music and mystery of  a tryst can be alluring but filled with fear because you can’t know if you’ll ever see such lovers again.  And when one is in love but the other not, this is the dark promise.
13 February 2012 - Leave Without a Mark - planet poetica sonnet
Each silver leaf is dripping moonlit dark,
she dances there, a graceful silhouette
a soft acoustic drum brush plying night
a rippling song, her lips to mine, will spark
my hand to trace and limn with hips’ arrest.
Percussion weaves sonatas when there’s love
and heartbeat symphonies are not enough.
Some nights the stars will fall and slip their net,
moons trip and spill their light, exposed and stark
but like songs urge, I’ll bare it all and fight
for love and life; holding light, I’m still in debt
until her leaves leave light without a mark.
In waves the violins are plying tears
and catching rosined stars on bows of fear. 
3-18-12
params: cdecd   aa    dcedc   bb
XFXXXXXXXC   
XXXXXXXFXD   
XXXXXXXXXE   
XGXXXXXXXC  
XXXXXXXGXD
XXXXXXXXXA
XXXXXXXXXA
XXXXXXXGXD  
XGXXXXXXXC  
XXXXXXXXXE  
XXXXXXXFXD  
XFXXXXXXXC
XXXXXXXXXB
XXXXXXXXXB
first couplet (a) is to sum quintet A, and second couplet (b) to sum all the poem OR quintet B

Saturday, March 17, 2012

12 February 2012 - Archangel - blank verse sonnet





Last one for tonight, done to the tune of another ‘Two Steps From Hell’ melody, ‘Archangel’.  This song brings to mind the book ‘Bloodstone’ (why, I’m not sure, because there IS a graphic of one of Robert E. Howard’s characters, painted by Frank Frazetta, which is called ‘Archangel’ already) and the character Kane.  This book is one of my fave sci-fi fantasy books by Karl Edward Wagner.  So, this poem will have an ‘eternal’ feel to it, much as the song title and the book character emulate.
12 February 2012 - Archangel - blank verse sonnet

A bored antiquity of warrior art,
a lifted sword upon a backdrop’s mat
of emerald shot with bloody filigree;
eternal marches to a distant beat
and begs the bard play one more song of sleep.
Demonic reasons race to fill his eyes,
a desperate plea still lingers on his soul;
he’d give it all to die in peace and find
tomorrow’s dreams were over yesterday.
I’ve felt like this and wished for clearer sight,
I’ve followed tales I wished included me
and even tried to never close my eyes.
But water sleeps and bides it s time so still,
won’t someone hold a mirror to breath of dreams?
3-17-12
params: 14 lines of iambic pentameter, unrhymed

11 February 2012 - Strength of a Thousand - sonnet




Another very good ‘epic’ instrumental from ‘Two Steps From Hell’, is ‘Strength of a Thousand Men’, which will be this poem’s backdrop.  This poem portrays the moment when what should be the strength of a thousand (modern culture, its people’s values) won’t measure up to a hard fight, one where focussing on self means the society as a whole dies.  Stemming from a discussion I had with several people about the merits of letting Paypal censor four taboo novel subject (bestiality, rape, incest, and underage sex).  The face that the majority (the thousands) did not see these ideas as unhealthy for society, really bothered me, so I wrote my bit of introspection.  Sad to say, most would rather have such topics be easily available than to denounce their titillating value.  Just reinforces my opinion of people in general though.  
11 February 2012 - Strength of a Thousand - sonnet
The odds were rising, hills were far escapes
the enemy lay waiting while we grieved
it didn’t matter horns were blowing rapes
this scene was going down, so we believed.
A million marched against our vaunted flank,
the strength of thousands faced relentless foes
there wasn’t armor thick enough for ranks
of countless bites from swords of endless rows.
And still the call went out to find just one
one reason we should rush to death and claim
there’s evidence that nothing good will come
from normalizing sins where blood has run.
The question begged a single voice be heard,
while thousands closed their eyes when strength was stirred.
3-17-12
params: abab cdcd efef gg