Yesterday to Tomorrow

The bridge between two days is called “Today,”
The past and future merge when it is Now:
Although this moment cannot ever stay,
And in a blink will need to take a bow
Without an encore, let Hope allow
A smooth transition to the moments new.
A brand-new land waits barely out of view.

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No Longer a Good Actress

I used to be able to pretend a lot better than I do now. In some ways life is better, but in other ways it is worse. At the same time, I might like myself better now than, say, in high school. A Chaucerian stanza for FOWC: Lips.


To smile with ones lips and not one’s eyes —
Underneath this mask, who can for long hide?
No longer a good actress, I reprise
This role without success, cannot abide
Nor anymore pretend, not satisfied.
Emotional, my brain tends to break down,
But I’ve no painted smile like a clown.

Humility

For FOWC: Coach, I wrote a Chaucerian stanza today. It is important, yet sometimes difficult, to be teachable.


Humility is key to being great,
For in accepting one does not know all,
One can be taught: a coach can help create
A greater confidence where fools would fall.
To know when to oneself a novice call
Will help skills in reality to build,
No sense of hubris but with newness filled.

New and Old

This Chaucerian stanza is for Linda G. Hill’s SoCS, and the words today are old/new. Although it’s not a free-verse poem, it was pretty quick and I didn’t edit, so I am sharing it. 

The old has passed away, the new has come:
This I believe with all my beating heart,
And I want to give it a warm welcome.
Every single day is a fresh new start;
Change does not come at once, but part by part.
Do not lose heart: we are works in progress,
Magnificent, and will find happiness.

One Step

Confusing is the path one ought to take,
So full of twists and turns it’s hard to stand:
Stand by; and soon enough the path will make
More sense, next steps elucidated, and
Courage nearby to take the trembling hand.
One step ahead is all that might be shown,
But difficulties won’t be faced alone.

Grains of Wheat

For DVerse Poetics today, we are to write inspired by wheat. At first, I was completely at a loss for any inspiration, but tonight I wrote this Chaucerian stanza.


Unless a grain of wheat shall fall upon
The fertile ground and die, a sacrifice,
It remains a single grain; but once gone
It returns, and is now worth well past twice:
Potential on which you can’t put a price.
Does wheat feel trepidation ere the fall?
Is falling in the field falling at all?

The Angelus, Jean-François Millet

Scary Paranormal Stuff

This is a Chaucerian stanza inspired by FOWC: Paranormal, and underneath that is a quick cinquain about what I most fear, for FDDA day 11. As I don’t like to dwell on disgusting things, I wrote it in about a minute, so I’m not putting the second poem in its own post. 🙂


In haunted houses do true ghosts exist?
Some disembodied spirit stuck in pain?
Cannot move on, relinquishing resist,
Stuck in between eternal and Earth’s plane?
One need not die; regrets can haunt the brain
Like much more hungry ghosts, which will devour:
Horrors of past may push into this hour.

Now, for my next “masterpiece”….

Maggots
Spawn of satan
Disgusting wormy things.
Don’t even make me think about
Them now.