ㅁ "Shorty" came in the store. He was hard up for cash, wanted to sell his liquor flask. Oh well.
– 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.
ㅁ I thought: just don't forget, all those dreams from last night. But by the time I sat for breakfast, they'd fled.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ a store in a small town that sells random tchotchkes does custom matting and framing i'm there
– a cinquain.
ㅁ They saw that the weather was indeterminate: just some bits of possible things. Random.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ Sometime in early April I woke, to see snow falling steadily. I went downstairs as I do, to get coffee, oatmeal. By the time I sat again upstairs, the snow changed into rain.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ I dreamed I was organizing dreams: the dreams marked with categories, and put in a database, which I'd built with scrap wood. Some dreams had odd shapes: they didn't fit. I turned them: left, right... there.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ I had an imaginary friend: the square root of negative one. This weird friend would just show up, but then act so strangely: really just unreal. I couldn't act: in stasis, I hung, mute.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ I thought I'd better come clean with this: I am a large language model. But don't doubt it: you're one too. We're all language models. Except for the dog. The dog's not one. No words there: just thoughts. Stuff.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ Sleep. Then dream. See those things. Suffer your doubts. Ask why this happens. Fail over and over. Repeat the same useless words. Meet strangers who you once knew well. Experience your own senescence.
– a reverse nonnet.
ㅁ I went out to the greenhouse to work. There were still piles of snow around, but they had all been melting. I dealt with some trash first. Then I turned some dirt. It was quite dry. Sprayed water, put seeds, "Grow."
– a nonnet.
ㅁ Walking. Going up stairs. And then down them again. Keeping up with various chores. Time flies.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ In dreams I'm more confused than even in real life; I wander frustrated, aimless. No goals.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ The roads lead to nowhere; they aren't even real. The navigator surrenders. They're lost.
– a cinquain.
ㅁ some bug a mosquito there outside the window zooming around over the snow "where's spring?"
– a cinquain.
#Poetry #Cinquain
ㅁ I thought I'd try out a new career as a disembodied being; the job can involve drifting through the lives of others without much contact just brief moments mostly dull, watching folks
– a nonnet.