I'm really not feeling the poetry flowing this year. Here's another haiku, quick and neat, to catch up yet again.
the sun sets glowing
as rays recede, the hearth cools
spring warmth is now here
Laura's Writing
Sunday, April 19, 2015
#19 - A Landay
From today's prompt: And for today’s prompt (optional, as always!), I’d like to challenge you to write a landay. Landays are 22-syllable couplets, generally rhyming. The form comes from Afghanistan, where women often use it in verses that range from the sly and humorous to the deeply sardonic and melancholy.
In breeze her spirit, haunting, withdraws
Time stands still where last she gave in to her tragic flaw
In breeze her spirit, haunting, withdraws
Time stands still where last she gave in to her tragic flaw
Friday, April 17, 2015
#17 - Nine Minutes
I can slowly wash my hair
Lather, rinse, repeat
With nine minutes
I can boil an egg and enjoy
Toast or cream of wheat
With nine minutes
I can change a diaper, fix my hair,
Wake the kids and get them to their feet
With nine minutes
I can make myself a lunch
And lunches for the kids to eat
With nine minutes
I can check my email, zip off a note
Sip slowly, a caffeinated treat
With nine minutes
Scrape the frost off of my car
Drive slowly down the street
With nine minutes
Our mornings could be brilliant
Organized, efficient, sweet
With nine minutes
When the alarm goes off at seven
And jolts me to my feet
I press the oh so tempting snooze
And morning, once again, you have me beat!
Nine minutes.
Eighteen minutes.
Twenty-seven minutes
Thursday, April 16, 2015
A terzanelle (from the prompt)
To Do
What does it take to be free?
Free of the bonds of the mind
The voices that call out to me
A constant barrage of the kind
Drive out thoughts continous
Free of the bonds of the mind
A mental list, completion a must
The guilt when one tries to be bold
Drive out thoughts continous
Stories can't be left untold
Tasks can't be left undone
The guilt when one tries to be bold
No time to relax, no time for fun
And sensing continuous drain,
Tasks can't be left undone
I can't tune them out, they remain
The voices that call out to me
And sensing continuous drain,
The voices that call out to me
© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved
What does it take to be free?
Free of the bonds of the mind
The voices that call out to me
A constant barrage of the kind
Drive out thoughts continous
Free of the bonds of the mind
A mental list, completion a must
The guilt when one tries to be bold
Drive out thoughts continous
Stories can't be left untold
Tasks can't be left undone
The guilt when one tries to be bold
No time to relax, no time for fun
And sensing continuous drain,
Tasks can't be left undone
I can't tune them out, they remain
The voices that call out to me
And sensing continuous drain,
The voices that call out to me
© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
#15 - I was going to write a sapphic... but... what the hell, Google?
This
day, I was going to write a sapphic,
Somewhat late, it's the prompt for day eleven
But when typed sapphic into my search engine
I became confused.
Sapphic, a poem with a strict syllable count,
Eleven, eleven, eleven and five
And an even stricter rhythm of which I
Cannot get the hang
Instead, apparently, sapphic pertains to
The art of love, l'amour, sexuality,
Between a woman, and her sensual lover,
Love between women.
So now I'm confused as to how this poem style,
Has come to be eroticized, and I can't
Write, too distracted am I imagining
The lesbian sex.
© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved
Somewhat late, it's the prompt for day eleven
But when typed sapphic into my search engine
I became confused.
Sapphic, a poem with a strict syllable count,
Eleven, eleven, eleven and five
And an even stricter rhythm of which I
Cannot get the hang
Instead, apparently, sapphic pertains to
The art of love, l'amour, sexuality,
Between a woman, and her sensual lover,
Love between women.
So now I'm confused as to how this poem style,
Has come to be eroticized, and I can't
Write, too distracted am I imagining
The lesbian sex.
© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved
#14 A Limerick
There
once was a mother of four,
Who's life was anything but a bore,
With constant background noise,
Drowning in books and toys,
When did relaxing become such a chore?
© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved
Who's life was anything but a bore,
With constant background noise,
Drowning in books and toys,
When did relaxing become such a chore?
© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved
#13 A Haiku (yup, still playing catch up)
A
Haiku
Sunset glowing gold
Arches into fiery red
Fading to black
© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved
Sunset glowing gold
Arches into fiery red
Fading to black
© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)