Caveat: Poem #2991 “Submission”

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The wind whipped rain, and caused a feeling:
 a vague, pathetic fallacy
took hold of me, and left me reeling.

The storm pushed rain, and gave a feeling:
 nostalgia gripped, my soul was dealing,
bowed down to nature's papacy.

The storm pushed rain, and gave a feeling:
 a vague, pathetic fallacy.

– a triolet.


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Caveat: Poem #2985 “Antumnos”

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The otherworld unleashed its dogs;
 they chased us through the timeless trees.
We fled and jumped those ancient logs.

The otherworld unleashed its dogs.
 We fell and tasted moss and bogs.
The murky water grasped our knees.
 
The otherworld unleashed its dogs;
 they chased us through the timeless trees.

– a triolet.


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Caveat: Poem #2971 “A minor gladness”

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The summer's nearly ended: yay.
 I'm glad when summer's mandate's done.
You know: you see the shortened day.

The summer's nearly ended: yay.
 The endless tasks have gone away.
The night, its moon, that's now the one.

The summer's nearly ended: yay.
 I'm glad when summer's mandate's done.

– a triolet.


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Caveat: Poem #2950 “The detaching”

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I think the silence isn't there.
 Instead, the world is random sound,
but all inside, a constant blare.

I think the silence isn't there.
 A buzzing rules the inner air,
all meaning's lost, like sailors drowned. 

I think the silence isn't there.
 Instead, the world is random sound.

– a triolet.


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Caveat: Poem #2929 “When the storms come”

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I love it when the storms pull in,
 they swing around the point and park
their blowy winds, like ghostly grin...

I love it when the storms pull in,
 the trees' broad branches dance and spin
and whitecaps thrash the predawn's dark...

I love it when the storms pull in,
 they swing around the point and park.

– a triolet.

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Caveat: Poem #2894 “No”

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Regrets pile up like drifts of snow
 and nothing's ever gonna change.
I burn through time by saying "No."

Regrets pile up like drifts of snow
 denying things to make them go...
As strategy it's rather strange.

Regrets pile up like drifts of snow
 and nothing's ever gonna change.

– a triolet.

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Caveat: Poem #2880 “A Sunday stroll”

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The sky was gray, the mist hung low.
 I walked the road and saw the trees.
Some rocks recalled the winter's snow.

The sky was gray, the mist hung low.
 The water, distant, seemed to glow.
The bits of light, waves touched by breeze.

The sky was gray, the mist hung low.
 I walked the road and saw the trees.

– a triolet.

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Caveat: Poem #2874 “The great journey”

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I start my journey up the stairs,
 my outlook bold: I'm upward bound.
The sun's not shining - no one cares.

I start my journey up the stairs:
 the steps, they lurk, like little snares.
I stumble then, a frightening sound.

I start my journey up the stairs,
 my outlook bold: I'm upward bound.

– a triolet.

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Caveat: Poem #2867 “Being another”

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The silence deafens, coats the world,
 as if the head's been filled with earth.
The clouds above are curly, pearled.

The silence deafens, coats the world,
 as if, all round, broad wings unfurled -
all covering - a whole sky's worth.

The silence deafens, coats the world,
 as if the head's been filled with earth.

– a triolet.

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Caveat: Poem #2860 “Gazing out from my window at the sea”

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A morning's drizzle paints the sea
 with spots and roundish dapples, green.
The gray, cold sky confounds, unfree.

A morning's drizzle paints the sea,
 while trees absorb the gray - that's key -
and fish and whales swim deep, unseen,

A morning's drizzle paints the sea
 with spots and roundish dapples, green.

– a triolet. This is something new – I’ve never tried this particular genre of short poem before. It’s pretty highly constrained, which I tend to like, but also repetitive by design, which I tend not to like.

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