No No Nonette - May Line by Line Challenge - 9 line poems

[Piscator]

First off, congrats to all the NaPoWriMo Challenge writers, and many thanks to Calli for starting it and keeping us motivated. April has been a month to remember and I suspect we all will be going back to this thread for a long time.


But April in now past and we are in May and past the halfway mark of a twelve-month line by line challenge. This month the line length increases to nine. As before, any topic and number of poems and forms within the requisite number of lines or multiple verses of that number of lines are acceptable. For the form fixated, I second Angeline's recommendation of The Poet's Garret for an inventory of 9 line forms which take us back to Spencer and The Faerie Queene/

* In consulting Wiki, I found that nonette properly refers to "a French pastry, a small gingerbread cake made of honey and usually orange marmalade," and scrolling further down the Google list "an archaic form of nonet - combination of nine instruments or voices.' While the first definition is sweet, I think the second applies. Let me know if you'd be interested in a PFD Nonette collaboration where nine persons sequentially puts down one line of a nine line poem. After nine the sequence starts again.

 

[Lyricalli]

Let me know if you'd be interested in a PFD Nonette collaboration where nine persons sequentially puts down one line of a nine line poem. After nine the sequence starts again.

Oh, this sounds like fun!

 

[Piscator]

Why are You Counting?

Why are you counting
chocolates in the box?
It is obvious one is missing,
or is my punishment based
on those that remain?
I know that you are waiting
the later I arrive, the graver
my penalty and the deeper
my love.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

(how about a Lai?)

Oh, this sounds like fun!
thought the rising sun

 

[Levitating_Bed]

Salt of the Earth

Most of us
want nothing more than
a way to earn our daily bread

Most of us
do not want this
to come at another's expense

Most of us
despite color or creed
do not want to lead or be led


Happy International Worker's Day

 

[Remec]

* In consulting Wiki, I found that nonette properly refers to "a French pastry, a small gingerbread cake made of honey and usually orange marmalade," and scrolling further down the Google list "an archaic form of nonet - combination of nine instruments or voices.' While the first definition is sweet, I think the second applies. Let me know if you'd be interested in a PFD Nonette collaboration where nine persons sequentially puts down one line of a nine line poem. After nine the sequence starts again.

Oh, this sounds like fun!

Seconded (technically third, I guess, from 29's post above)...let me know what's up.

 

[Piscator]

PFD Nonette collaboration non-challange

Let me know if you'd be interested in a PFD Nonette collaboration where nine persons sequentially puts down one line of a nine line poem. After nine the sequence starts again.[/I]

I must admit I'm not sure how/if this will work but suggest the following

1. The first author posts line 1, while I expect that the=is would work best as free verse 0 the author may specify rhyme and meter on the first line
2. the second author copies the fisrt line adds the second and posts the 2 line work below the preceding posts
3. the process repeats until a the wok is nine lines long.
4. an author can submit at most 2 lines to the 9 line work. Lines cannot be consecutive
5. the next author posts the first line of the new nonette and the process repeats.

.

 

[Piscator]

moved to new thread

 

[HarryHill]

..
Cherry tarts w/clotted cream,
no... cheese cake, cherry topped,
Coffee w/brandy,just a dollop.
A taste of the sweet life.
Treadmill tomorrow,
but first
just one more,
one more
slice.

 

[Tzara]

Reading Poems about Your Kids

When you write about your children,
I feel with you
though I have none of my own.

But your words
make me want to open my arms
to comfort them, because

you want to comfort them,
but you can't. And I can't,
and worse, I can't comfort you either.

 

[Piscator]

Nocturna


Life ain't no serial streaming series
where the plucky gender-neutral heroes
defeat some XAnon false faced Ulysses.
Sigh, but it's not that way in the 'real' world
it’s a sum game which adds up the zeros
needles knitting with odd stitches unpurled.
While we play parts in bright shadow charades
leaders fiddle like modern day Neros
as the light of long-lost dreams slowly fades

 

[Piscator]

3 by 3

do you remember
talking in five seven five
form over meaning

nothing meaningful
until our lines rhymed
internally

till we reached
a fork in the road and
our paths diverged

 

[Tzara]

The Selfish Gene
for D.

I like that you are often barefoot
in your poems. It speaks
to me of your comfort with nature,

with Rousseau's naturalist philosophy,
in which we were all
originally good.

That we stray from l'homme sauvage
and his natal beneficience?
Blame fucking biology.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

time goes by

Legs in the sand
waves slowly rolling over
Legs still in the sand
waves been slowly rolling over
what feels almost eternity to the strand
Legs forever still in the sand
waves had been slowly rolling over
what feels almost beyond eternity to the strand
as the archeologist's hand uncovers sand-blasted Roman tibias

 

[Lyricalli]

Goodbye
lingers between
us like breath before a
kiss, like a sigh after lips part
Charging
our shared time with an awareness
of loss often ignored
though always true
of love​

*trying a buttefly cinquain: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/butterfly-cinquain/

 

[Remec]

*trying a buttefly cinquain: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/butterfly-cinquain/

Hmm...let's try that out

Alone,
not by myself,
mind you, but unfettered
by any sort of personal
contact;
Spiraling about mentally,
letting everything
reduce me to
nothing..
​

 

[29wordsforsnow]

(there's some resemblance with lips in the butterfly cinquain)

yOu cAn
stay there some time
yours pressing against mine
softest flesh wet with wild desire
some tongue
rasps away on sensory cells
snaking in, giving way to
rushing vowels
Oo. .aA​

 

[Angeline]

With Love

On May 8th I'll think of you
like I do every day but remember
who you were and might

have been, marking another
year where once I'd cook, bake,
and give in every way I could,

but this year I'll picture the Flower
Moon dropping behind the Sierra Nevadas,
you, far above it, a shooting star going home.

 

[Levitating_Bed]

Under the basement fluorescent
which, at first, fought an uncertain
battle with darkness, its low hum
filling the entire space like memory.

You set down the glass and, kissed,
surprise, an ice cube into my mouth.
Later, you stretched around me, your
fingers still smelling of squeezed lemon.
Filling the entire space with memory.

 

[Tzara]

Poem in Which I Imagine You as a Lady
of the Court of Heian

where you live in a suite of rooms
that, when its screens are opened,
overlooks a graceful

water garden. That your room's screens
are usually closed
is perhaps why

your poems' imagery is so focused,
your calligraphy so beautiful,
your themes so elegant, though always sad.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

what could be said on a grey Monday?
the pain of a bygone weekend on your mind
that things will turn bright on Tuesday?
forebodings of more to come in your bones
life trickles down, passes like the words we say
Such a fine, sunny day, and I have to go
what could be done on a gray Monday?
remembering human beings of such kind
not only on a warm sunshine day in May

 

[Piscator]

Wreck on the Highway

cold
sea fog
shrouds the road
pickled egg breath
permeates truck cab
flashing lights dead ahead
break too late - crash certain, glass
shatters, blood splatters like red paint
but didn't hear nobody pray, brother

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Feed the Birds

damn chirps
same each morning
can't you be still, feathers
now hear our revenge concerto
ripping the curtains open, short prelude
had rehearsals since four o'clock
angry sex crescendo
moan explosion
Thank you!​

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Choclates

The first thing we've been told the walls were thin.
Someone will let you know when you're too loud.
But already a falling needle pin
supposed to be The Holy Sin aloud.
On the rusty bedsprings we dreamt about
sinning with full delight and all glory.
And so we learnt to unwrap, with no shout.
Sharing the box became dilatory.
This ends a keep your mouth closed and suck it story.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Don't you wish it was June already?

Oh, this sounds like fun!
thinks the rising sun
Good Day
As she blinds a hun
being on the run
In May
to make ill-born pun
of the Moon-God's son
We Say