ㅁ Fog and clouds, grasp mountains, conceal the sky: The morning's a line between sea and mist.
– a tetractys.
ㅁ Fog and clouds, grasp mountains, conceal the sky: The morning's a line between sea and mist.
– a tetractys.
ㅁ The sun departed for a short while. In the night, the grass grew fiercely. The birds prepared some new songs, not unlike their old songs. Dreams were passed around, like currency: diurnal creatures slept.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ Sun arrived, dried things out, awoke the trees - but it always makes me feel my home's lost.
– a tetractys.
ㅁ Kiamon dreamed that the mountains had crashed stones tumbling down so the road was all smashed; workers had come to repair what they could. Dawn showed its hand: gravel fill, shattered wood.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
ㅁ some wind caressed the sea motivated the trees caused the birds to alter their plans made waves
– a cinquain.
ㅁ Some days when I wake up, I feel anti-social. I don't want to deal with people. No words.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ I dreamed I found a typo in a poem, but when I went to fix it I could not. The typo squirmed away like some small beast, escaping from my cursor, while I cursed.
– a quatrain in blank verse (iambic pentameter).
ㅁ The days pile up and make a blur; procrastination rules. The nights provide their pointless dreams; intentions are for fools.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ Twenty-five hundred random poetic objects: some are good; some aren't.
– a pseudo-haiku. This numerological poem is actually not accurate – I know this for a fact. There have been several instances of “hiccups” in my numbering system, such that actually this poem is probably 2502 or 2503…. But it’s too difficult to go back and re-number everything.
ㅁ mute dreaming the planet sought a meaning through computations effected by stepwise improvements to molecules over long periods of time so by making monkeys made a mind
– a reverse nonnet.
ㅁ some books on my bookshelves have not in fact been read they represent aspirations vague plans
– a cinquain.
ㅁ spruce tips pale green needles bunched up, like tree-fingers each one pointing outward, groundward, from trees
– a cinquain.
ㅁ some birds log in, mornings, and make declarations, many repetitive statements, all day
– a cinquain.
ㅁ in dreams there's a soundtrack fragments of ancient songs incoherent intrumentals which fade
– a cinquain.
ㅁ Work at the store gets monotonous. Only one or two customers, so I have to find projects. Yesterday, a display that rotates slowly had a broken small motor: stuck gears, rust.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ short words can seem easy but longer words stretch out unexpectedly extensive precise
– a cinquain.
ㅁ Slugs slowly make progress in crossing paths; I doubt they're over-thinking anything.
– a tetractys.
ㅁ So today is the Buddha's birthday, at least as Koreans count it; not really a holiday, here where I live these days. It's quite late this year... follows the moon: wandering Buddha steps.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ Dust, kicked up into clouds by passing trucks... but then the rain returned and we could breathe.
– a tetractys.
ㅁ No. I can't. So instead, if you'll let me... I'll just pretend to make sense and you'll shrug.
– a tetractys.
ㅁ Wind, water; so whitecaps appear, pushing... the waves meet the rocky beach of our cove.
– a tetractys.
ㅁ There's no sun and the wind blows. Words form on the page, in rows. Motivation lags. I doze.
– a defective englyn milwr (missing cross consonance).