Tag Archives: Poem a Day

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
dis-harmony

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

Branded

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


Counting Shleeeph

For the sake of keeping in step with Jane’s Challenge “A Month with Yeats” – Day 4, I offer this silly little verse. I had been working on a lovely, mystical yarn on and off today, and dozed for a second with my finger pressed on the cursor, deleting all but a few words. Gone forever! Of course I couldn’t remember what I had written, and with the day fading, I plunked these lines together to satisfy the task at hand. I’m not as happy with it as I had planned to be…but maybe that is the point of Yeats’ words, in the prompt for today:

“…till the morning break

And the white hush end all but the loud beat

Of their long wings, the flash of their white feet.” W.B. Yeats

I’ve sensed their presence late at night
swooning close to count my breathing
‘midst restless dreams and tiny deaths
until the dawn

I don’t know if they are angels,
faerie folk or something grim
every night I reap their favor…
another day

won’t say I am superstitious
but just in case they’re listening
I say a prayer my soul to keep;
it doesn’t help me sleep…for that
I count some sheep

~kat


April Poetry Month – A Poem a Day #28

Today I am exploring the Reverse Poem. A Reverse Poem is a freeform verse. The masters of this form write lines and lines…I feel lucky to have pulled out 14! Here’s the definition: Reverse poetry is a poem that can be read forwards one way and have a meaning, but also be read backwards and have another different meaning. A type of ‘reverse‘ writing is called a palindrome. Palindrome comes from the Greek words “palin” (again or back) and “dramein” (to run).

As you can imagine it’s a bit tricky. I have seen other variations of this type of poem, the Palindrome (which is a mirror image poem with a break in between) and a form that some of you have tried this week from a NaPoWriMo Poetry challenge that prompted you to write a poem backwards (which also should be read from the bottom up). The Reverse Poem should be read top to bottom and then bottom to top and should have two different meanings. At any rate, here’s my try…I know this is another form that will take a bit of practice to master.

Roses1

Falling In and Out and In Love

I think
I love you
like the very first time
I heard your voice
my heart fluttered and
I caught you watching me
as you looked away, blushing
something changed
I’m not sure when it was, but
you don’t look at me
you hardly speak anymore and
I should tell you
I don’t think
I love you

kat ~28 April 2016


April Poetry Month – A Poem a Day #27

So…true story…my poor birdbath faerie ornament took a tumble and busted her head open. (it didn’t help that the bird bath bowl fell on her…likely the doings of one of the neighborhood cats!) At any rate, like Humpty Dumpty, it is not likely that I will be able to patch her together, but then I thought, maybe, just maybe, there was a “REAL” faerie trapped inside just aching to get out…People who love faeries like I do will get this. You others…yep…it’s a tad loony. But it made me feel better about losing my favorite yard ornament.

Of course I have another poem to write today for Poetry month and I thought, “what a perfect topic for a limerick!” Truth be told, I don’t care much for limericks. We do them in challenges here on WordPress, but the topics are not always whimsical which makes for a very unlimericky limerick. Limericks should be fun or at least slightly far-fetched or unusual.

Here is a description of a proper limerick:
A Limerick consists of five lines. The first line usually begins with ‘There once was a….’ and ends with a name, person or place. The last line of a limerick is normally a little farfetched or unusual. It has a rhyme scheme of aabba. Lines 1,2 and 5 should rhyme and have the same syllable count and lines 3 and 4 should be shorter in length having a different rhyme.

 

faerie

Escape from Polymeria

There once was a faerie held captive in clay,
her perpetual frolic – a cute garden display
then one day she fell down
cracked a hole in her crown
on the wind now, she’s happily free to this day!

kat ~ 27 May 2016


April Poetry Month – A Poem a Day #24

Today’s I am trying my hand at the Bref Double, a French poetic form consisting of 3 quatrains and a final couplet, making 14 lines.

There are multiple variations when it come to rhyme schemes, though in all versions the scheme consists of three rhymes and 4-5 un-rhymed lines, providing the bref double’s primary distinction from sonnets. The c rhyme ends each quatrain. The a and b rhymes are found twice each somewhere within the three quatrains and once in the couplet.

Some rhyme scheme choices are:
axbc xaxc axab ab
axbc xaxc bxxc ab
axxc bxxc abxc ab
abxc abxc xxxc ab
xaxc xbxc xbac ba
xabc xaxc xbxc ab

…and I’m sure there are others. 😊

There is no requirement of meter in a bref double, but all lines must be consistent in length.

I chose this form to write my poem: xabc xaxc xbxc ab


For Those Who Blog…

There are faces I shall never meet
who write their hearts on cyber pages
just a cursor point and click away
Spanning cultures, miles, zones and time.

I may never know their real names.
Some prefer their anonymity.
It’s their words that draw me to this place.
Simple pseudo-handles work just fine.

We chat, we text message and we tweet
in this place where all the world’s a stage.
Stories weaved of joy and tales of woe…
souls revealed line by beautiful line.

Inspiration here for those who seek.
If you have a voice this is your place!

kat ~ 24 April 2016