Tag Archives: Minute Poem

Women Scorned

‘Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?’
—W.B. Yeats

Women Scorned

From the shadows, secrets silenced
by violence
with no amends
from vile men,

women have found their voice to tell
tales of hell
and finally
the world sees

that they refuse to be ashamed,
they’re naming names,
they will be heard!
Let truth emerge!


A Minute Poem for Jane Dougherty’s A Month With Yeats: Day Twenty-Nine.

Today’s verse is from Yeats’ Poem, ‘No Second Troy’.

A Few Minutes

One of those Monday’s with few minutes to spare, and so, a few Minute poems (8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4/aabb, ccdd, eeff)for Jane Dougherty’s ‘A Month with Yeats’ – Day Twenty, Poetry Challenge inspired by the verse below from Yeats’ poem, ‘The Old Age of Queen Maeve’. The painting is IvanBilibin‘s illustration to a Russian fairy tale about the Firebird, 1899.

‘out of the dark air over her head there came

a murmur of soft words and meeting lips.’—W.B. Yeats

breath to death

in dim-lit sterile cells we wait
to meet our fate
the reeper’s sweep
our souls to keep

medicated interventions
good intentions
stripped dignity

we rage against eternity
our destiny
is but a breath
to peaceful death


it’s comes to ‘do you believe them?’
all the women
nothing to lose
who claim abuse

for if you side with privileged men
know in the end
you’ll share their shame
for selfish gain

it really does come down to this
you can’t dismiss
you’ll wear the brand
of where you stand

~ kat

Beautiful Death

‘…stars, grown old

In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea,

Sing in their high and lonely melody.’ -W.B.Yeats

cool nor-eastern zephyr whispers
evening vespers
autumn drifting
seasons shifting

leaves of yellow, orange and red
settle in beds
windswept and tossed
wilted by frost

learning the art of letting go
the ebb and flow
arrested breath
beautiful death


A Minute Poem (8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4 syllables. The rhyme scheme is as follows: aabb, ccdd, eeff) for Jane Dougherty’s A Month With Yeats – Day Seven. Today’s verse,shown above, are from ‘To the Rose Upon the Rood of Time’ by W.B. Yeats.

Time Waits For None

Hushabye world, gray dusk descends
As daylight ends
Time waits for none
Time waits for none

Ebon night looms a sigh away
As sinners pray
Their souls to keep
Their souls to keep

All mortal flesh is born to die
Don’t ask me why
I do not know
I do not know


A Minute Poem …I added a Refrain element)

How Rude! – NaPoWriMo 2017 #21


Photo from Pixabay

“Oh I hate obnoxious people,”
the woman yelled,
just behind me
as I drank tea.

I thought,how ironic is that!’
Her loud chit-chat
filled the café,
drove guests away.

Such rudeness I could not endure.
I glared at her,
I had no choice,
“an indoor voice?!!!”

(NaPoWriMo 2017 #21 – A Minute Poem for today’s prompt: write a poem that incorporates overheard speech. This is a true story. 🙂 )

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