April Line by Line Challenge – 8 line poems

[Piscator]

We are now at the halfway mark of a twelve-month series of challenges in which you are asked to pen poems of specified line length with line length in each month. It's now April and the line length increases to eight. 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 some 8 line forms.

NaPoWriMo Challenge writers get bonus points if they double post here. As before, feel free to add to the earlier challenges as the muse strikes you.

 

[Piscator]

Not Your Everyday Fool

April 1 is special, today I’m not your everyday fool
but Microsoft changed my Outlook and I’ll have to retool
and we are all again in lockdown, pandemics getting old
yet I’ve got a month of poems to write, I’ll start with couplets bold
and there’s the line by line challenge, this month it’s number eight
which will make Octavia happy, give her something to relate
to, it’s a deep dive, please excuse me while I catch my breath
for my meter is ragged and only rhyme I find is death.

 

[Remec]

Not Just in April

I'll admit it, I'm oft times a Fool,
not just in April, but every day;
it began with clowning in class, then not just at school
but at home and work, often I play the Fool
it's like my mind thinks of it as cool
to let my words and actions do as they may;
There's no denying often I am a Fool,
in each month of the year, on any given day.

 

[Angeline]

Foolish Triolet

April baby please don't be cruel;
Just whisper with a gentle breeze
And please don't take me for a fool.
April baby please don't be cruel;
My aim is true: I'm not a tool.
Don't put my muse in the deep freeze.
April baby please don't be cruel;
Just whisper with a gentle breeze.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

As all things in springs revive
doesn't take much for new life
ground
beans
water
heat
time for some midnight coffee
but really not more than three

 

[HarryHill]

Oh jive April,
cruel twit,
are you laughing at my plight,
up to my ass in green sprouts and plants,
and you pull your yearly joke,
dropping temperatures tonight
in one last grinning poke,
of all of those of us that live twix thaw and frost

 

[Piscator]

Whatever

Whatever does the future hold,
can it be found in ancient verse?
Or with science can we unfold
whatever might the future hold?
With this knowledge could we reverse
damage we’ve done to Mother Earth?
Whatever doth the future hold
future science or ancient curse?

 

[Lyricalli]

I confess, I still get angry. Not often,
but it comes, and seems a little crazy
when it goes. Being mad at a dead man.
Dead. First time I've used that description.
Have preferred euphemism. Doesn't matter
that it's futile. Nothing I want to scream
can change a damn thing, but it's easier
than the ache.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Happy Ea(s)ter

Did I really offer to bake?
Hope you love kindergarten art cake.
But, wow, I'm taken aback as you bite
into the bunny piece with such delight
your claim of being a vegetarian
suddenly very contrarian
to my idea of light oral play.
Why don't we proclaim Cuddle Day?

 

[Tzara]

From a Letter, Written but Unsent

I imagine you reading,
your head bent to the page,
dark hair long and sleek
and flowing like water
over your shoulders.
You are drinking coffee
and turning the pages
of a slim book of poems

by someone I think I should know,
but don't. I want to stroke
your hair, as a preamble
of course, to our coupling,
but I'm afraid to disturb
you in your quietness, as if
I would be dipping my hand into
a pool of still water

and the reflected image
would shiver and dissolve,
and I would lose any chance
I had of your loving me.
So I let you read, untouched,
and desire you from some distance,
because even more than sex, I need
the poem that is you in my life.

 

[Piscator]

Froggy Went a Courting

The spring peeper’s sharp staccato
rises above the chorus frog’s drone
while wood toads cackle underneath.
Spring has arrived and those male amphibian
pecs are straining in amplexus, clasping the
female tight underneath his rigid body as
he externally fertilizes her jellied eggs
for the next generation of tads to come.

 

[Angeline]

Blase Ottava Rima

I can't tell if I miss you anymore.
Years blur memory till it's like a disc
heard and heard. What am I listening for?
Like any song that's overplayed there's risk
I'll become sick of knowing what's in store:
The dance recitals, the parades, a brisk
walk on a fading day through winter snow
Time just rolls by. Everything must go.

 

[Tzara]

On Vision

Blind in the moonless night, my
hands search for your
body, my restless fingers
surf the gentle waves of your
skin, seeking the warmth of that
central core of your being, where we
join in that tidal ebb and flow that
renews our lives each night. When I

stroke your inner thighs, it's like
tracing an elegant sculpture, the
Venus de Milo, for example, her
smooth, hard marble mimicking your
athleticism, but not the
suppleness of your pliant muscles. What I
miss most, though, in this enforced darkness is your
eyes—are they open or, my God, blissfully shut?

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Meet me at 8 - Monologue

...at line 8 we meet
meeting the right spot in the wind
winding down in every corner
cornering the craving you leave
leaving each room empty
emptying my thought train
training to step outside this house
housing your daily arrival at line 8...

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Bad currencies

silence is golden
and we're all gettin' rich
in speechless realities
with purses wide open
expect less pay back
from a stranger's
virtually silver tongue's
cryptic droppings

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Scrabbling about

Dear severe Ego,
a void in tense words plays
chilling hassle.
Poetry youth
have you read
Schiller, Goethe, Lessing?
Avoid intense wordplays,
try Poe's.

 

[Piscator]

Semi-Strambotto Toscano of an Aging Lothario

The Brits' aphorism, "keep a stiff upper lip"
applies not, tongue and lips are bothfit for task
the problem lies lower, at root of my kit
my stout shaft stays soft despite your loving clasp
which for this Casanova truly isn't hip
and your laughter won't help, not one little bit.
God's truth, my member is limp as a noodle
and this cockado can't cockadododle.

 

[Piscator]

Trio Triolet

This night is right for us together to explore
such delights as we might find in trio Triolet.
The limits of just two can soon become a bore
but add one and new fun comes for us to explore
and if convention flaunt, so be it evermore
as with a third, new paths emerge for us to play.
This night is right for us together to explore
such delights as we might find in trio Triolet.

 

[Angeline]

Un-Wreathed Octave Madness*

I hope I don't drive myself mad
or sad for acting like a dope.
I'll cope though this poem's pretty bad.
(I'm trying but yeah it's a nope.)
I should read a book, no crying
or sighing for where does that lead?
My credo is writing's like flying:
eyes on the prize. Tricky indeed.

 

[Piscator]

Coffee Cup Canzonetta

Our back cupboard, the one which lies above
the microwave, houses backup coffee
cups, with faded image of turtle doves
or like the camel cup just unwieldy.
Others with flaws, cracks or broken handles
patiently waiting for someday repair
holding memories some might say shambles
patiently waiting for someday repair.

 

[HarryHill]

Flat Tyre

..
Oh, listen to the neighbors.
What? they at it again, all that cheeky chatter,
ribald laughter, sounds like fun.
and the only stones I own are dug up on row 8,
thrown down the sooie hole.
And after 9 there's another laid,
pretentious, seeded eyrie for dragon eggs.
Let's eat.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Dear Alice

...it almost became an evening spent
watching my fiftieth Alice in Wonderland
instead, hear what the radio had
my Night with Alice turned out superb
playing some Rock'N'Roll band
but only their name in the morning remains
tonight's challenge will be Alice in Chains
thank you so much, Mr Cooper...

 

[Remec]

Slipping Away

Come, drape yourself about me as you will,
We still shall slip away from everyone to escape
then scrape our way, no matter the barrier, until
we find the time and space to celebrate. A crepe
breakfast to reward all the hard work over time,
putting behind us all the worries of our past,
outlasting all those naysayers with the urge to chime
in asked or not; Screw ‘em and unfurl the sail from the mast.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

April estranged

Sunday summer rain falling straight down
licking the streets clean until they shine
dust, days and people flushed down
where they belong in this time
Sunday shirts and shorts soak it up
trickling on the carpet until it squeaks
treasured dust, days and people flash up
where they'd belonged, unseen in past weeks

 

[Tzara]

On the Street Where She Lives

Through opened window slip her muted sighs,
The susurrus of rumpled sheets, mussed hair.
I wonder if they know that passers-by
Through opened window sense their mingled sighs,
Anticipate more animal-like cries
And wish her moans were by me brought forth there—
To opened window cast her muted sighs,
The susurrus of rumpled sheets, mussed hair.