It was a real challenge to finish any poems halfway decently, although I started about 7 of them today. However, at last I have finished Linda’s paint-chip poetry challenge, which was to write a villanelle this week, using at least three of the phrases on the paint chips below. I like villanelles and writing them, but it was hard to write a whole one in a single day. I still appreciate the prompt because I don’t often write villanelles on my own. Most of my poems are much shorter.
Linda’s SoCS prompt today is “color,” and I choose purple. I wrote an etheree and made it as stream-of-consciousness as possible, just counting the syllables per line to be sure it was correct. This was a fun prompt and pretty open-ended, so I might write some more, and it will be fun to read others’ posts also.
Color for Advent, Lent —
Times of expectant waiting.
Reminders of the richness which
Comes after those weeks, months of waiting,
And that the celebration lasts always.
This is a free-verse “Ubi Sunt” poem for Linda’s paint-chip poetry prompt. The given words are pictured below the poem. This was inspired by the way that I write so much and so small that I often forget about poems that I have written or where / when I wrote them.
Where are the words erased,
Written lightly in graphite?
Even the words put down in pen
Are difficult to see, crammed
Without pizzazz in tiny spaces,
In need of illumination.
Where are the poems that I
Remember writing, remember liking
But can no longer find,
Buried as they are under years
Of other poem-filled lines?
From an old poem,
And the search is quick:
Memory and heart to weep,
For the person who’d connected
With the plaintive, seeming-timeless lines —
That same person now knows much more deeply.
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.
For FOWC: Inadequate, a butterfly cinquain:
Piles of unread
Books, already dusty —
Inadequate time, even if
Long life —
The curse of the bookworm: leaving
Many tomes unopened
Having not met
I wrote this for today’s SOCS: “-igh.”
At twilight, when it is nigh nighttime,
I sigh, thinking of many ways I might
Have used time more wisely —
Yet waste is not a blight on the day;
I do think highly of being happy,
And at dawn’s light it will be a new day.
At the moment of death,
When life flashes before your eyes
And each event is seen —
What importance will it be,
What you’re so worried about now?
In life’s greatest overview,
What is more true and lasting than
Love? In faith: jump and trust.
I’m not exactly happy with this free-verse poem, but it works for FOWC: Overview.
This poem is in response to FOWC: Keen, and it also uses yesterday’s word, Anonymous.
I’m keen to know the secrets of the heart,
The hidden and anonymous parts,
The mysterious maze-like corridors,
The core from which a person’s life pours.
I wish to know the web of paths which led
To this beautiful moment, and the bad
Happenings now past — impossible, it’s said.