ㅁ Kiamon pondered the point of the game. Seemingly, all of the turns were the same. First she'd get caught, after which she'd escape. Villains would chase, like a repeating tape.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter. Part of the continuing chaotic snapshots from life of the fictional being, Kiamon.
ㅁ Kiamon stood by the side of the road... feelings were grim, and the gray skies had snowed. Nobody stopped to assist her. The cars kept zooming past with their tail-lights like stars.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
ㅁ Banality is worthy stuff: it centers things, and pulls the fringes back from fevered dreams, it moderates the fools.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ Kiamon never could disregard signs showing conspiracies, visable lines, tracing connections between sundry groups. Gazing at traffic, she pondered these loops.
– a quatrain in a dactylic tetrameter. A nonsequential snapshot into a fictional being’s life.
ㅁ The coffee got misplaced today, I poured it in my bowl. My oatmeal tasted rich and brown, so in the end, I'm full.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ Eleven years ago this day, the tumor was excised. I celebrate by staying home. I'm still alive: surprised!
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ Kiamon noted the grim atmosphere. Several looked up. She could understand fear. No one, however, decided to fight. Here she would stay, on edge for the night.
– a quatrain in a dactylic tetrameter. The nonsequential snapshots into this fictional being’s life continue.
ㅁ The road was long, the sun did shine, it seemed spring had arrived. He sat to rest beside the road, surprised he had survived.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ Some snow might come and make things white, and smooth out nature's lines. But then the rain will follow that, and slushify those pines.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ They came and cleansed the dirty sea: ambitious clouds and rain. They came and washed the roads and trees: this path became a drain.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ a meaning wanders by, some nouns, in silly, this here ballad, the lost and broken syntax is, bad like then, it's word salad.
– a quatrain in (deliberately bad) ballad meter.
ㅁ The world descended, slow, in tiny steps to chill its atmosphere, to render stark its stony landscape, so the trees resist a wind borne from the east, alight with stars.
– a quatrain in blank verse (iambic pentameter).
ㅁ I'd planned some verse up in my brain... I failed to write it down. So now this morning nothing's there... no words: no verb, no noun.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ The frost congealed upon the road, that path where cars would go; the road itself engendered ice, it didn't need the snow.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ A dog pursued the car with hopes of catching it at last. The driver stopped to greet the dog, the dog's surprise was vast.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ Detach your mind from local things and let it roam the world; a mind is made to do such stuff: abstractions come unfurled.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ The snow continued failing to appear instead the rain persisted with its task. The trees received more water than they'd like, the sea was washed but surged, indifferent.
– a quatrain in blank verse (iambic pentameter).
ㅁ Those Martians opted to explore the world. They traveled in their spacecraft here and there. The forests drew them, silent and alive. A bear, a deer, some trees - these things were real.
– a quatrain in blank verse (iambic pentameter). This poem is an intentional sequel to poem #541, and I think that context is important.
ㅁ Snow had arrived, and was thick on the ground. Trees were stripped bare. The town's streets had no sound. Kiamon trudged from the dingy motel, Facing her fate, her thick coat like a shell.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
ㅁ Kiamon noted the rats by the grate. Sunset had passed, and the time had grown late. Streetcars were scarce. A dull mist filled the air. Facing her future, she muttered a prayer.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter. This is yet another random snippet from the life of Kiamon, a fictional being in an imaginary world.
ㅁ These daily trees appear each day, and still you'd think I'd tire of such monotony; but each of them's unique, and proves to us the world's a space much bigger than our minds.
– a quatrain in blank verse (iambic pentameter).
ㅁ Kiamon left her old daydreams behind, knowing at this point she'd best clear her mind. Sneaking suspicions took root in her brain: people were plotting a hidden campaign.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
ㅁ The raven stood beside the road, perched there along some stones. Some hunter'd left a pointless pile of disregarded bones.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ I drive to town a lot these days, sometimes it is a bore. I've started naming potholes, now, 'cause them, you can't ignore.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ I dreamed I wrote some nifty code to solve my business needs. The dream-world seems to have forgot that's not where retail leads.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ So, death and dreams each take their toll they interrupt our thoughts; the one can stop things for all time, the other's just three dots...
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ Kiamon challenged the facts that she found; someone'd created them, spread them around. Lacking in proofs, she just studied the clues, finding strange holes in the logic of news.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter. The continuing ruminations of a fictional character, Kiamon.
ㅁ Kiamon woke from her dreams with a start. Somehow she'd lost herself inside some art: paintings her grandmother'd done long ago, cabins in forests and wide fields of snow.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
ㅁ So Richard told me 'bout when Joe... he had a "riggin' fit": it happens when a thing don't work, so you get mad at it
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ The dog had seen the baby bear, she wanted to give chase. The leash prevented fast pursuit: frustration on her face.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ So, did we watch that show or not? The answer's in dispute. But how can we move on from this, the truth is absolute!
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ I dreamed I wrote a good haiku but when I woke it fled. I tried to resurrect its text while lying there in bed.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ The car fell off the bumpy road and rolled into a ditch; my uncle saw the whole thing pass, forgot it - small brain glitch.
– a quatrain in ballad meter. To be clear, this wasn’t my car, crashing. Arthur apparently was witness to an accident he saw while walking along our dirt road the other day, but he doesn’t remember it.
