Toska – June 22, 2014 Kyrielle Sonnet

William Blake

William Blake


To never hear your voice again
To never see your open smile
To know each long day will begin,
Wondering if life is worthwhile …

Long is the morn now that your gone.
Often, it’s just an empty trial.
I’d slumber too and not go on …
Wondering if life is worthwhile …

Where are your kisses in the morn?
(Ah to pretend yet for awhile,
That loneliness may be foresworn.)
Wondering if life is worthwhile …

To never hear your voice again ..
Wondering if life is worthwhile.

Written for Mindlovesmisery Menagerie Prompt #61 – Toska

Light and Dark

Writing odes to spring
With sadness in his heart
He gently places flowers
Upon her new dug grave

They’d walked together often
For many a year in love
And wooed each other still
With a passion never dimmed

He knows just how life works
He doesn’t protest or whine
And keeps composing poems
As though she were still alive

She made him promise solemnly
That he’d keep on with his daily life,
She said that she would wait for him …
(Neither believed in the after-life)

As sun shone on the tombstones
They glistened like bits of diamonds
The flowers perfumed the air at morn
The birds sang in the bowers

He wrote to her in verse
He wrote to her of love
And composed his finest poems
As He looked upon a darkened spring

Loving odes to spring
With sadness in his heart

Light and Dark Prompt – Pooky’s Poems

This is an experimental form … the bold type should make sense if read as a short verse.  I’ve placed it in the category of a Kyrielle Sonnet, though it really isn’t because I didn’t want  to create a new category.

This poem is based on a story of a loving couple I once knew … he isn’t a poet, except in his heart, but he still places flowers almost daily on her grave though many years have passed.

Regrets? Kyrielle Sonnet – NaPoWriMo

Christopher Ryan McKenney

Christopher Ryan McKenney

The pathway of life twists and turns …
Decisions made, well, sometimes burn
Yet though wounded I don’t regret …
The choices made – Challenges met.

The easier road sometimes chosen
Seemed so tired,  well,  maybe frozen,
Chose I, deserts and minerets …
The choices made – Challenges met.

War and conflict, I didn’t request,
Gave form, well,  to my formal protest …
No ideal theory,  no shallow threat
The choices made – Challenges met.

The pathway of life twists and turns …
The choices made – Challenges met …

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Sunday Prompt the prompt was Soul Searching Regret…and I discovered, or rather I discovered quite some time ago, that over the years, I have made peace with every decision I’ve made until now.  Some decisions were actually made by others and I followed along … which is actually a decision.  We sometimes think that we are forced to walk a pathway we would rather not take, but there is one truth we should never forget:  the responsability for our life is our own.  We can always find a way to say “no” if we are willing to pay the price of that no.  Sometimes we aren’t, and often that too has a pricetag on it.

This doesn’t apply to small children of course…and the choices they make are made adapting the world they know.  It’s only as a person grows and realizes that sometimes what they believed to be a universal truth is only, at best, relative that the responsability for the road they’re following becomes their own, and sometimes the roots are so deep, that they never even realize that there is a choice.


Reflections on Betrayal

Betrayal!  What’ve you done to me?
I’ve watched over you, don’t you see!
I’ve fed you, pampered you and more …
Although naughty, sometimes a chore!

We been together since we’ve met,
I’ve always thought we’d win the bet …
We’d show the world just what’s the score
I’ve never thought you’d bring me war.

Age has its own price to pay
Hoary hair grows whiter each day
Now dear body, I know the score …
Youth is something you can’t restore.

Betrayal! What’ve you done to me..
I’ve watched over you, don’t you see!

Betrayal can be many things…here I’m playing with the problems of getting older…I as everyone else at one time or another have felt betrayed by someone or some situation…but at the moment, the only thing that came to mind was this 🙂

Written for: Poetry Prompt # 4: Betrayal – Oloriel’s post for We Drink Because We’re Poets.

Cambria U.S.A. – Kyrielle (Rhymeless)

Kyrielle (Rhymeless)

Cambria U.S.A.

They tell me your party’s over.
The town is just melting away.
Cemetary’s always bigger.
The school closed down yesterday.

People just sleep there now at night,
Families are gone  (but there’s a bank),
The kid’s playground is a dust bin
And there’s no grocery anymore.

The streets are always deserted.
The mailmen don’t have a route there.
Sometimes a deer will pass through though,
Which is an encouraging sight.

They tell me your party’s over
The school closed down yesterday.

Anger – Kyrielle Sonnet

“Anybody can become angry – that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way – that is not within everybody’s power and is not easy.”- Aristotle

“In a controversy the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for the truth, and have begun striving for ourselves.”- Buddha

Rhyme-less Kyrielle Sonnet


once again you underline
everything not right in me
you pick and peck like a hen
and now I feel just worthless

anger should be my response
not just sitting back in shock
the hurt’s gone on much too long
yet each time it’s just the same

funny that for most of us
anger is to be avoided
when my problem as you see
is I cannot get mine out

tears that well up in my eyes
are anger’s condensation

For many years, I was unable to become angry.  I felt sad when attacked and I usually felt that somehow, I was always in the wrong, and would just feel worthless.

Though I’ve become better at feeling angry and getting resentment out in order to  defend myself from “bullies”, it is always an effort.  In fact, I very rarely argue or raise my voice, and would prefer to just leave rather than face unpleasantness.

In the past I could have read Aristotle’s beginning words in the quote above and expressed some very serious doubts about just how easy it is to become angry.  As for the Buddha, of course he is correct…but in fact in the above situation, a person who allows herself or himself to be bullied needs to search and to find their worth.  In my opinion, that is the first truth one must seek.

Of course the situation I lived in was not a “not being angry” reality.  The anger, deformed and turned inwards, was probably a part of my personality, that part of my character which wanted to be the martyr, like saying: “Look at poor me…what I have to go through as I carry the world’s troubles upon my shoulders, and now, also be mistreated.”  Not so cool I think and good to go forward leaving that sort of thing in order to have a better approach to life.

The quote that is right for me is the following (uhm) with-in limits:

“Usually when people are sad, they don’t do anything. They just cry over their condition. But when they get angry, they bring about a change.”  – James Russell Lowell

This was written in response to Dungeon Prompts Season Two Week Four…my response for the prompt:  Anger Management.


Season of Sadness: Gary Kyrielle Sonnet



browns out

our souls
these dark
long hours!



(Thanks dearest Caddo for reminding me of this form this morning!)

For My Muse – Kyrielle Sonnet

For My Muse

Kyrielle Sonnet

For all the times I’ve searched for you
I’ve become depressed and I lose
The well-being that I require
To write you verse, all may admire

This isn’t senseless idolatry
‘Tis my state of anxiety,
For you my Muse, I do conspire…
To write you verse, all may admire!

I would so like to see your face,
I imagine you of noble grace.
Surely  all poets would desire,
To write you verse, all may admire!

For all the times I’ve searched for you…
To write you verse, all may admire!

Everyone has a form they become comfortable using! Identify that form and write your poem. Free verse will not be considered a form for the sake of this exercise!  From In-Form Poet.