#18 Another 17 syllabler

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

#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

#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

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

#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

#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

#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

#12 - The Riddle (from Day 13 prompt)

The Riddle


It causes one to stop and ponder,
The direction to which it's leaning
It's neither inert,
Nor does it breathe
But pulses with life and meaning


A conundrum, it is mysterious
With much strife, we find it teeming
It's good for the soul,
But offers anguish,
Without someone intervening


Answer me this, clever one
Tell me of that you're gleaning,
Whether it comes quick
Or not at all,

What is my hidden meaning?

© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved

When one falls behind

Cinquains - not my favourite type of poem.  They always felt like a cop-out to me.  The kind we were assigned to write in elementary school so that every kid gets a chance to feel like a poet.  But... here I am writing one (or two) in an effort to play catch up.

Listen
The night air hums
A not so quiet house,
As children sleep; White noise surrounds
Silence

© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved

#12 d – Acrostic

Dogs are man's best friend
Or so I've heard several people say
My puppy hasn't got that message yet,
Instead she keeps me hopping every day,
Nearly always leaves a path of chewed up toys and in
Our yard, a maze of holes she digs to run away.



© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved

#12 c – Another Senryu

Cold spring winds blow hard
Battering my children's skin
Chasing them indoors



© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved

A senryu

Because it's late, I never sat down to write the poem during the day, and I want to go to bed... 17 syllables seem like enough of a challenge tonight. :)

A haiku exists
Because I spent the whole day
playing with my kids

© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved

Four days behind... going to try to play catch up!

#12 b – Fallen behind (a tanka)


Oft when life gets occupied
with daily chores, multiplied
or family comes socialize
poetry is compromised.

© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved

For Eric and his passion

Day #12 - A partial collection

the four Seasons
pass by quickly
i am an Old Maid
transformed by rules and strategies
competitive, i become
when i leave my Magic Labyrinth
i take a Risk
travel by Camel Up in the hills
discover a Pirate's Cove
visit a Guild Hall
with only my Wits And Wagers
to assist me
for 10 Days in Asia
with my Ticket to Ride
i see 7 Wonders
and it is good
no Spite And Malice
as i travel. Only a Bohnanza
of sights; a Dominion of Splendour
the world at my disposal
when we branch out
from Dominos and Monopoly
Sorry to see you leave so soon
we don't play enough games
when it's just us
Checkmate

© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved .

A limerick...

There once was a family named 'Freeman'.
They had so many kids they were screamin'
When they took a small pause,
They discovered the cause,
So they cut off the source of his s --- port!

© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved

Couplets

Your musical proposal choked me up,
As you were overcome with happiness.


I watched the song your father sang for you,
As you stood sobbing in your satin dress.


You announced the baby's gender proudly,
Blue icing in the cake, hidden from your guests.


I watched your family shriek with happy shock,
To meet the new babe, wrapped in soft pink dress.


His first wobbly steps, her first shocking curse,
I laughed at your children's innocent progress,


I watched the baby giggle in hysterics,
And the tot arguing, who's tireless.


I watched her as she howled in frozen glee,
Ice reigning down on her tousled tress,


The choreographed high school dance routine,
Methodically captured by the local press,


I watched you lip syncing in the front seat,
Your back seat pals jumped in, with planned largess,


I watched these all; your precious memories,
With your family, I shared your happiness,


Sitting in front of my computer screen,
Clicking random links on youtube; mindless.


I can't help but wonder where we're heading,
Society's disdain for privateness,


And I think back to simpler days gone by,
When the world was still mysterious,


Back when “going viral” meant an illness,
And not a grab for instant famousness.


© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved

A cinquain

A Cinquain – A five line poem with ababb or abaab, or abccb rhyme scheme


The first extended weekend of glorious spring,
With anticipation, eagerly I rise,
The day anew, my heart, anticipating sings,
I throw open the curtains, welcome sunny skies,
A blanket of white, mocking, greets my eyes.



© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved

My Why

My Why

Children sitting in a row,
Carefully turning pages,
Of scrapbooks I have made.

Precisely designed arrangements
The photos of our yesterdays,
The stories from their pasts.

Off of the memory cards,
And out of the dusty boxes,
Photos hide between the pages,

I see them studying faces,
And I remember for them
Times before their memories start,

When my life gets too busy,
And I don't take the time to create,
Where will their stories live?

In boxes or on the camera,
Instead their precious albums.
Who will remind my children.

As I watch them reminisce,
Over the stories in my head,
I understand.  This is my why.

© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved

It's National Poetry Writing Month again!!!

I have thoroughly enjoyed the last two Aprils. This one, I'll admit, has crept up on me.  So, without any inspiration, I turned to the prompt on the website:  Today’s prompt is a poem of negation – yes (or maybe, no), I challenge you to write a poem that involves describing something in terms of what it is not, or not like. For example, if you chose a whale as the topic of your poem, you might have lines like “It does not settle down in trees at night, cooing/Nor will it fit in your hand.” Happy writing!



1. Happy Hump Day


You are not the slow, sleepy build up,
Nor are you the thrill of the release,
People don't disdain to face you,
Nor greet your arrival with relief,


While they don't exude enthusiasm,
They don't fervently wish you on your way,
You're somewhere in the middle,
You're just kind of, sort of okay.


You fall somewhat short of greatness,
Landing this side of resignation,
You're not all that exciting,
You're weak with anticipation.


You're not the beginning of the work week,
But you certainly don't signal that it's through,
I can't say that you're all that bad, and yet,
No one ever says, “TGIW.”



© 2015 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved