OctPoWriMo Day 13 – Decuain – October 13, 2015

Rorschach Ink Stain

Rorschach Ink Stain

The steps were wet after the morning rain
As we tried to capture a spider’s web.
The light wasn’t right so we shot in vain
Like flies we’d been captured by that cobweb,
So soon our morale was at a low ebb.
We looked around for something to capture
Discarding all hopes for that spider’s web
We looked down and we both sighed in rapture
A splash of colour, a Rorschach ink stain
A leaf on the steps – wet, red and arcane.

© G.s.k. ‘15

This was rather a difficult form to write … but Elliot rightly said: “Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”

The Decuain (pronounced deck won), is 10 line (Decastich) form created by Shelley A. Cephas, and can be used for any subject.

The convention is iambic pentameter, and there are 3 choices of rhyme schemes

a b a bb c b c a a
a b a bb c b c b b
a b a bb c b c c c 

OctPoWriMo Day 12 – Wordling – October 12, 2015

Brynn

City Life

With all her courage
she faced the traffic
running the risk
that she might get hit –
buses and cars
thrumming and rumbling
passed ’round her –
but minute and fierce
she dodged them all
’cause she’d learnt her letters
about cars and traffic
from her mother’s pride.
Ah, how the urge was on her
to get back home
she knew he was waiting
and she was chilled to the bone …
scratching at the door
mewing piteously
she pulled at the link
she’d formed to his heart …
he opened the door
petted and hugged her
then lovingly poured her
a bowl of warm milk.

© G.s.k. ‘15

October 12. 2015

October 12. 2015

Inspired by Brynn and  The Sunday Whirl Wordle

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Successes – Two Poems -Early Poetry – October 11, 2015

I’ve had a lot of successes in life but the ones I wanted to write about where poems that came out successfully from my “earlier” writing days …

shadows

Making Dandelion Wine –  Quatrain Fairy Poem –  April 10, 2014

Let’s make some dandelion wine,
Mixed with starlight and moonshine,
Full of hopes and wishes come true,
Made from our love, for I love you.

Mix the flowers with sweet honey,
(On a special day, warm and sunny)
Spring water from a wishing well
And our story, wrapped up in a tale.

Stir the flowers, honey and water …
Then place the mix on a Fairy alter
Let it sit for just a week or maybe two
Thinking of our love so true.

Put the mix inside a barrel …
And sing an ancient summer carol,
Let the wine age in peaceful times …
Thinking of some loving rhymes.

And when the spring has gone away
As we sit on the grass one summer day,
You’ll drink to me as I drink to you
Then we’ll make love under the sky so blue.

Wish not upon stars or fairy dust
Wish if wish you really must,
Upon our special dandelion wine …
Made with love and soft moonshine.

© G.s.k. ’14

Decadent Kitty – Shape Poem – April 8, 2014

Decadent Kitty – Shape Poem (Fish)

Decadent kitty
let me sing to you a ditty
of fishes
in dishes
and grapes
on the drapes…
Sweet little lovey
peering at the pigeon covey
wondering why the old folks
(pulling on their tokes)
forgot your kibble
(to nibble)
Oh
!

© G.s.k. ’14

I’m putting my old NaPoWriMo poems from 2014 onto a single page (editing them and making the blog post private … I consider these two poems a success for two reasons:

  1. I didn’t have to edit them – they read well as is
  2. I actually had fun reading them.
October 11. 2015

October 11. 2015

OctPoWriMo 11 – Chained Shadorma – October 11, 2015

Sunset_2_small

in the sky
splashes golden fire
majestic
resplendent
his spectacular adieus
illuminating

slamming doors
unnatural calm
deafening
echoing
observing peach splattered skies
autumn evening

breath-taking
rare autumn sunset
colourful
delightful
peach stains run across the sky
in melancholy

© G.s.k. ‘15

 

OctPoWriMo 10 – Kyrielle Sonnet (un-rhymed) – October 10, 2015

A Day In Lilliput

Black and white rain in Lilliput,
trickles like treacle in the hush,
as artists play their auto-harps
strumming on strings of vibrant blague.

Public servants and bigots crow,
each one in their own mellow key,
singing their songs of modesty
strumming on strings of vibrant blague.

Journalists and gallerists bray,
waving their arms around like birds,
pompously talking of their finds
strumming on strings of vibrant blague.

Black and white rain in Lilliput –
Strumming on strings of vibrant blague.

Now listen well in Lilliput,
as days progress in emptiness,
listen to the politicians
strumming these strings of vibrant blague.

In the colourless world of art,
“black and white” is all the rage now!
Empty Lore-lies – sing praises!
Strumming these strings of vibrant blague.

“Enough! Enough!”  A brave soul cries,
in hallowed tones of lullabies,
“Humpty Dumpty just fell again!
Strumming these strings of vibrant blague.”

Now listen well in Lilliput –
Strumming these strings of vibrant blague.

© G.s.k. ‘15

How Vibrant These Colours Seem – Trimeric – October 9, 2015

houses

How vibrant these colours seem
the red roof tiles glisten
the changing leaves are brighter
in the rain of this new day

the red roof tiles glisten
with intense rich ruddy tones
glazed in light and water

the changing leaves are brighter
nature, the great impressionist
creates her early autumn oeuvre

in the rain of this new day
pastel brush strokes blossom
in the tenuous light of dawn

© G.s.k. ‘15

OctPoWriMo Day 9 – Friends (Haibun) – October 9, 2015

Another day, another season passing and with it’s passing tomorrow is born. The two young men go tramping along the country road behind the cemetery wading through the dry fallen leaves walking Michael’s dog.  Theirs is an odd relationship. Months  pass and seemingly they lose sight of one another as each follows a different trail, only to catch-up with their life-long relationship in the first seconds of their coming together again.  Their friendship has withstood the ravages of time, girlfriends and life choices.  Comfortable in the exchange of their experiences (they remind me of two scientists or perhaps philosophers exchanging notes) they console each other making suggestions of how to help the other’s dreams come true. The church bell strikes the hour, they separate, not knowing when the next encounter will be but sure they will meet again.

afternoon in fall
the graveyard is decked out –
bright chrysanthemums

 © G.s.k. ‘15

 

“Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream.”  by Kahlil Gibran (found on dVerse – Haibun Monday)

OctPoWriMo (Chained Shadorma) – Day 8 – October8, 2015

Wind and willow

Wind and willow

sibyllic
the whispering wind
intimates
coming change …
and where will the wind take me?
I really don’t know

Dorothy
rode the wind to oz
from Kansas,
this story
about changing and growing
might be the answer

enigmas
puzzles and magic
adventure
and heart-break
without her ruby slippers
I’ll never return

tomorrow
is another day
or perhaps
yesterday
is time perhaps relative …
[infinite cycles]

© G.s.k. ‘15

OctPoWriMo (Day 7) – Terzanelle – October 7, 2015

In the rain

Stoplight

along a lonely road
driving under the rain
water and traffic flowed

and then, memories of a train
of another age and day
seeped into my brain

everything then seemed so grey
I remember a flashing red light
and a locked up sidewalk cafe

I took the last train that night
running away from my troubled life
after yet another  fight

after years of useless strife
it no longer really mattered
to be his loving patient  wife

in grey the streets were splattered
my morale was rent and tattered
and a distant stoplight glowed
in the rain, at the end of the road

© G.s.k. ‘15

916f5-img_20150928_151453

October 7, 2015

For more information about the Terzanelle follow this LINK 

OctPoWriMo: Day 6 – Free Verse – October 6, 2016

 

a sunset in padua

a sunset in padua

The Old Couple

ripe in the silhouette of time
sprouts barbed thistle-down
inside their heart they face
the dark down-side of self

even as they speak of love,
(the cold rain of reason drizzles)
they shore up their autumn souls
against a reckless flood of passion

how far from romance here …
[read between the empty lines
of endless puerile competition]
lives the desire – to walk alone

© G.s.k. ‘15