ㅁ Years ago, when I was much younger, I used to have "animal dreams." Mostly I would run and run, like a joyful, wild dog. Sometimes I would rage, crash among trees. But these days, no such dreams.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ Years ago, when I was much younger, I used to have "animal dreams." Mostly I would run and run, like a joyful, wild dog. Sometimes I would rage, crash among trees. But these days, no such dreams.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ I guess I'd put some celery there, up in my low-tech compost pile, to the side of the greenhouse. Yesterday I saw sprouts, green leaves coming out: the celery suddenly put roots, grew.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ The keyboard presents its contoured cubes, a topography of new signs, potential semiotics, captures my attention; it has its own feel: still unfulfilled, sensuous, patient words.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ city: full of nouns, verbs... all parts of speech deployed for some discursive purposes; made real.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ The tide retreats, shows seaweed, barnacles, stones like knuckles of fists, freed from earth's creed.
– an englyn cil-dwrn.
ㅁ There was frost as sun touched shore. Spring's birds worried: what's in store? Perhaps Winter's keeping score.
– an englyn milwr
ㅁ The spider traveled up the wall, its focus on some goal. The surface made its progress slow: it stumbled at some hole.
– a quatrain in balled meter.
ㅁ The sun appeared at dawn and seemed to glow. I stepped outside a moment just to see. Two hours passed. Clouds strolled in and set the tone. My mind was shrouded by their grayish game. I played my hand but lost to further rain.
– five lines in blank verse (iambic pentameter).
ㅁ With unrequited consciousness, we slowly make our way. The rocks and trees don't answer us, and night succumbs to day.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ Raven spiralled downward surveying the parked cars and chose a black truck to land on, content.
– a cinquain.
#Poetry #Cinquain
ㅁ The sun, in the morning, gave way to clouds, later, which then switched to spitting strong wind, and rain.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ The dog escaped and ran away - she'd smelled something quite dead. I found her later at the pond, The dead thing near her head.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
ㅁ The sun appears, and tries a few days. But this here is the rainforest. The clouds own the agenda. Today's meeting topic: Precipitation. Let's discuss this with ourselves: "drip, drop... drip."
– a nonnet.
ㅁ This guy with a machine came along our dirt road and hacked down many shrubs and trees. Un-treed.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ The mouse in the greenhouse dug up my planted seeds. Annoyed, I put a trap in there. Sad mouse.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ "It's dead - no customers," I told my coworker. She felt bad for me, so she bought something.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ Formless thoughts drift like clouds, congeal into phrases, and then appear on blank screens. Easy.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ The sun made a visit, tasting the trees' branches, encouraging the budding leaves... then left.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ Dead mouse. Caught in a trap. It had been seeking food. So it came in the scary house. Bad move.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ "Shorty" came in the store. He was hard up for cash, wanted to sell his liquor flask. Oh well.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ Kiamon struggled to understand things. Clues were provided: short, causal strings. Still, the essentials eluded her grip. Outside, the rain pushed a slow, steady drip.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
ㅁ The bear, disconsolate, sat staring at the world. Sadly, it was made of fabric. "For sale."
– a cinquain.
ㅁ Last night it snowed again. I guess that winter's mood was maybe a bit nostalgic: unsprung.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ The tide left us behind, and showed the rocky shore. But mere hours later it brought back some ducks.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ I sat in a small cafe found unexpectedly while the car was getting repaired. Small town.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ They said they'd all meet up, discuss their summer plans, and sing about their children, too - those birds.
– a cinquain.