Obsession (Free Verse)

I am seized with ailing thoughts

as my synapses loop masochistic hindsight.

I drift in hazy dreams of If-Then……

These fragmented sentences and words unsaid

give weight to thoughts forever unanswered.

These layers-on-layers of half-written plays gather dust

and I cannot brush away the scattered pages.

I glide through present day untouched by feeling,

for fear of feeling the pain of a life shattered

as it slowly circles the drain.

Oh! Tether present day to hopeful tomorrow!

Or I shall drift into meaningless past,

undone by its incomplete script

and tomorrow shall see today’s loss.

I must release this unchangeable past

or go mad from wasted hope.

♦♦♦

For introtopoetry, Day Nine: Apostrophe.  An apostrophe is an exclamatory figure of speech, sometime started with “O”, often directed to a third party.  Im not sure if this “hits the mark” but it suited my plea.

I wrote this some time ago, in a state of passionate exasperation, in less then five minutes one day when I was just fed up with ruminating over what was and creating dreams of what could have been.  My struggles with obsessive thoughts have, thankfully, softened with time.

Picture: psychology today

The Sinews of Peace

A shadow has fallen

upon the scenes so lately lighted;

an iron curtain has descended

but now war can find any nation,

wherever it may dwell

between dusk and dawn

For Intro to Poetry: day seven, Found Poem.  From the lips of my hero, the incomparible Sir Winston Churchill.

Found Poem is the idea that poetic verse hides in many speeches.  Finding these gems and changing the sentence structure can bring new insight.

Screen (Ode)

O soulless sage of current age,
O heartless seer of thought gold-mined;
all the world sits on your page
coded to your unbound spine.
You, O idol, our obsessive shrine,
replete our worldwide ravenous greed;
a universe of captured thought
is ours to own with uploaded feed–
with empowered masses now self taught!
Yet my hands yearn for tactile feel
connected to each page I read;
yet I fear this thought reveals
a nostalgic antiquated need
to curtail this warp-read speed.
My soul yearns for knowledge gleaned
from digging through the finite print;
for light seen through that crystal screen
imprints with bleary optic squint.
In this current age, your visage is all the rage
through which captured trove of secret lore
illuminates this moral plagued age–
exposing hearts rotten to the core,
a Trojan horse of thought-waged war.
For I see clearly through the vail
this, our fifth dimension most foul
and we have gone beyond the pail
and tarnished mortal souls afoul.
Written for introto poetry: screen.  Ok, this is not really about a screen but more about what is through a screen.
Normally I write tongue in cheek humor odes like my priceless “Ode to the Gas We Pass”! So writing a real ode was quite a challenge as I was continually tempted to design a line with humor instead of passion.  I followed these basics:
Real Odes, written by real poets like Keats or Shelly, follow a varied beat but iambic tetrameter is most common with ABABBCDCD.  Of course, Keats and Shelly made Odes with great complexity but for my first real attempt I kept it simple and true to form.
Iambic tetrameter has four such feet, for a total of eight syllables. A line of poetry is in iambic tetrameter if it follows this pattern:
ta TUM ta TUM ta TUM ta TUM

 

Imperfect (Limerick)

There once was a woman who feared

her man would not shear his beard

and so for fun

she got her gun

and it quickly disappeared!

♥♥♥

 

Limericks are not really my thing, I prefer “odes” for humor but I had fun with this one, written for Intro to Poetry: Imperfect.  It is also autobiographical, as I detest my husband’s beard and refused to date him until he shaved it off.  Now, as the shine has gone from marriage, he dares to wriggle out of our deal.  So writing this has given me an idea, LOL!!!

Of course, I read it to hubby and he Was Not Amused……

Limericks are traditionally composed of five lines of verse, with a common rhyming scheme of a a b b a — the first two lines rhyme, then the next two, and the final verse rhymes with the first couplet.

Passing Through

My misty life,

whispy as a cloud,

swirls on air-tossed eddies.

Directionless,

unfavored and invisible,

I turn toward and away,

unweighted by resolute boldness,

unchartered by Divine Hand.

I drift, ever seeking

my lodestone, my compass,

that elusive guide,

that unswerving arrow

pointing to my True North.

 

I feel that my purpose will always elude me……

Written for Intro to Poetry Day Four:  Journey.

 

 

A Dance with Poetry

POETRY IS:

–<-o-o->-

A Hormonal Surge of Intense Feeling

A Free-Flowing Concise Dance with Words

A Short Burst of Beauty-Sorrow-Drama or Humor

A Heady Metaphorical Mix of Incense, Perfume and Poppies

A Literary High Calorie Delight….. to be Savored in Small Bites

A License for Ideas–Thoughts–Topics not Otherwise Well Received

A Tidal Flow that Inspires–Provokes–Symbolizes and Addicts the Reader

                              –<-o-o->-

 It Evokes Maximum Feeling with Tightly Controlled Language

It Demands a More Precise Word;  a Better Turn of Phrase;  a Higher Degree of Feeling

–<-o-o->-

Poetry is a Sinuous, Sensuous, Symbolic

journey through fine language

a peek into the poet’s soul

–<-o-o->-

Poetry’s finished product rarely satisfies the poet

yet poetry’s creation calls to us

a succubis muse.

♦♦♦

I decided to engage in Intro to Poetry series at wordpress and while this is not strictly alliterative I think it evokes the feeling of alliteration….but you decide!