GuiltyPleasure
AWTSS
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2003
- Posts
- 14,131
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It disabled my muse too but it forced me to try new-to-me forms I'd never have attempted otherwise. Do any of the participants still around have poems they submitted and they're particularly proud of? if so post 'em here.....pretty please.
I didn't last long at all (I see from my scorecard), but here is a villanelle I wrote for the challenge:
Flowers and Corpses (A Villanelle)
byAngeline©
The pastel rooms are disturbingly calm,
Even the paintings are vertigo sweet.
There’s flowers and corpses. Unlikely balm.
Whey-faced attendants with rictus aplomb
Cluster like crows among cars and the street.
The pastel rooms are disturbingly calm
And hush. The lilies lean in for the psalm
Still has clarity. When families meet,
There’s flowers and corpses. (Unlikely balm.)
Still we grip petals of hope in the palm,
Resolute in thrall of flesh yielding heat.
The pastel rooms are disturbingly calm,
They wear too much perfume. The music, Brahms,
doesn't soothe, all is rouged but incomplete.
There’s flowers and corpses. Unlikely balm.
The day, much like death, slips endlessly on
In each tick of time and click of heartbeat.
The pastel rooms are disturbingly calm.
There’s flowers and corpses. Unlikely balm.
~
Morbid, huh?
No, it's beautiful, both in imagery and execution of the form.
Thank you.
It disabled my muse too but it forced me to try new-to-me forms I'd never have attempted otherwise. Do any of the participants still around have poems they submitted and they're particularly proud of? if so post 'em here.....pretty please.
I guess I didn't bookmark my scorecard thread for this challenge (or I shunted it in disgust at not finishing), but I have several submitted to Lit's poems. Let me see what I can find:
At the Mall is a pantoum that uses a trigger requiring certain words
Banshee
Enspelled Masquerade
On Patrol
Rapunzel
The Tale of Little Red
That appears to be all I have stashed away.
......but this made me proud........
Survivor poem - Form Y - Terza Rima Trigger 23 (a speck of dust)
A mote emotes
We float in weightless ecstasy, my countrymen and I,
invisible, we dance unseen until, perhaps, a beam
of cloudless sun unveils our show to the observant eye.
This throng will dance in light and air as if locked in a dream
but often tempo ratchets up encouraged by a breeze.
We are not as benevolent as we, at first, may seem,
if we can find you mouth and nose a favourite game’s to tease,
your nose will run, your eyes will itch and often cry some tears,
we dance our dance inside your nose until we make you sneeze.
Some huddle under furniture, if undisturbed, for years
but I prefer to be alone and dance to my own drum,
I whirl; I float in dreamy drifts, unmindful of my peers
but I am not complacent for I know I may succumb
to mop and bucket, duster or voracious vac-u-um.
-
Love the last Couplet!
Yours was my sole comment for which I love you.