Can I leave WELL-ENOUGH alone
Discussion done
Not a single
Rhyme or jingle

THEY say more than I can handle
On my sandals
I pound the dirt
I feel no hurt

TIME is but a fleeting minute
Seeds are in it
Soon spring will sprout
No need to shout Minute poetry (-new to me).

  1. narrative poetry.
  2. a 12 line poem made up of 3 quatrains. (3 of 4-line stanzas)
  3. syllabic, 8-4-4-4 8-4-4-4 8-4-4-4 (First line has 8 syllables of each stanza. Remaining lines has 4 syllables in each stanza)
  4. rhymed, rhyme scheme of aabb ccdd eeff.
  5. description of a finished event (preferably something done is 60 seconds).
  6. is best suited to light verse, likely humorous, whimsical or semi-serious.

I think I got it all.. Whatever, it’s a finished event. Sort of light, slightly humorous, semi-serious. I don’t think it reaches whimsical.

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Some Think it is Nonsense

““In truth each day is a universe in which we are tangled in the light of stars.”- Horses, Jim Harrison


Oh to hear melodious sound
No bitter aftertaste be found

Inhale breaths pure of toxicity
Oh to behold what few can see within this celestial arena and nebulous sea

Oh that I could touch what ancestors held
But they too did learn like me as well

Stars veer not from a steadfast course
Nor night sky weep in cruel remorse

Each drips light whether great or small
Only One light outshines them all

Oh that all may learn one day to see
With every sense so all may be

Vindicated Tuesday prompt. Choose one from 8 lines from the work of Jim Harrison. Use the line as an epigraph to the poem of my choice.
To make sense of this universe we must use every sense. To me, that just makes sense. But I am just one.

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The Dead Don’t Feel

Look at me I’m quivering
Like an antique rare mosaic
Tread softly lest I shatter
Silence weighs heavy
I reach to catch a falling star

Look at you, you’re shivering
Fragments fall
Here’s a blanket
Cold, you say?
(Dubious smile within)
Or coming alive? quadrille. Word is shivering. Looked up the difference. Quiver is to tremble and shake as in nervous but shiver is to splinter and fragment as in cold.

that was fun

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Scripture, words, and insights coagulate and flow over her like a gentle waterfall. A firm conviction abut a stronger assurance rinse away all the dross gathered the night before. Responsibility quickly called and she rehearsed silently all she could, in hopes that shortly time would afford her opportunity to write it all down before she forget. Instead every empty space quickly spun her like a vortex and finally she gave up trying to piece it all together. At the end of the day she realized that He who gave always gives more and He who forgave continually forgives. She scraped the ice from the outside door, remembering the wet slush of morning and smiled at the transformation of it all and wrote a six-sentence story.

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They said no prompt would do
But what does this mean for me
I’m left on my own to steer the sails
What if I capsize – fall into the sea?

They said no prompt needed
They’d come and listen or read
What if all misunderstand
The wrangling in my head


They said no prompt required
Oh what respite – not of dread!
For the influx of prompts of late
Have rendered me near half dead

Jonah found shelter in a whale
The fish cared not for the fare
Elijah was fed by ravens
Old Jezebel she paid dear

Job had his amateur players
While God held His royal flush
Esther she was a fine hostess
Served Haman like an orange crush

Oh what a delight and a comfort
To let my words take flight
And rest in the ancient of ancients
And not care at least for a night Thursday OLN. Any poem I want. Thank you! I will read yours when I have the time.

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Worthless Noise

Sharp winds bellow
Beseech panacea
No resolve
Instead tempestuous seas
Join chorus in poetic tones
Brooks gurgle
Fowl cackle
Night owls call
Flesh blabbers of it all

Oh might wind be still and know
Breezes are lullabies
Sing me to sleep in sweet dreams
Where Angels cradle me
In Harmonious accord Today is National Thesaurus Day. Like I ever knew that before! Here are the instructions,

  1. Write a SOUND POEM which includes AT LEAST ONE from EACH of the FIVE HEARING CATEGORY SELECTIONS below: (reference the hearing words you chose in your post).
    bellow; clink; drone; jingle; quiver;
    clamour; dissonant; rip-roaring; tempestuous; vociferous;
    dulcet: honeyed; poetic; sonorous; tonal;
    blabber; cackle; dribble; gurgle; seethe;
    beseech; chant; drawl; embellish; intone

  2. Feel free to dip deeper into your chosen words by elaborating further from the Thesaurus with synonyms and antonyms

  3. AND/OR
  4. Simply write about the Thesaurus, as the above poets have – what it means to you; describe it, have fun with it. Let the synonyms flow, or antagonise with antonyms.

Hope I heard this right.

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All in Nothing

Oh, to drift upon tranquil water and watch the gulls dive and porpoise play! She and others were far from home, looking through the window of the rented cabin. She spied a doe and her fawn, swaddled by a canopy of trees, nestling, safe. “How content they look”, she thought. But this was no more than a brief candid pose. A snapshot in her eye.

The kettle whistled. She poured the boiling water over the tea ball, and leaned into the hot scent and took a sip. She thought about her reason to retreat to such a place. Her escape from the rush and ritual. “And bring no book, for this one day we’ll give to idleness.” They said.

She laughed. Who needs a book when everything around you is a story? She felt a chill and caught the tail of a humpback whale. Prosery.

“…Wordsworth’s ‘Lines Written at a small distance from my House…‘ which is included in the collection Lyrical Ballads, a groundbreaking poetic collaboration between Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, published in several editions between 1798 and 1802. The ‘Lines’ of this poem are addressed to his sister, Dorothy, and the particular lines I have picked out for you are these:

And bring no book, for this one day
We’ll give to iidleness.

Ah, Happy to find a space of idle/not so idle time to write this today. Exactly 144 words.

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What Memories are Made of

As long as there is bread
I don’t mean your bread
I mean my bread and bread pudding
I don’t mean your memories
I mean my memories
I don’t mean your baking powder
I mean my yeast

As long as there is cake
Not chocolate cake
Fruit cake, not boxed
Scratched and taught
From calloused hands
That knew no rest
Empty pans meant fulfilled guests
And starting over with tomorrow’s meal
Meant prolonged life and hopeful zeal
For whatever memories we carry ahead
We’ll always remember from whence we fed

Oh yes I will tamper with a recipe or two
Eat someone else’s, try something new
I didn’t like it all, ran from her lamb stew
Years later discovered what the Armenians knew
My fondest memories come wrapped in all flavors
So whatever you offer, you know your memory I’ll savor

But if a cup of cold water is all you can give
Oh, that’s best of all, without that I shan’t live

ddversepoets.comTuesday prompt. Food! Marvelous food!!! (Oliver). One of my favorite pasttimes -cooking, baking, feeding and eating.

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My Muse keeps me Musing

Amused I listen as he explains
The bumbling plays of the game
Each one blatant from his seat
Just before the clock runs out
NO defeat!
I muse in measured hushed repose
Spy no sweat from muddied brow
Do I judge from distant chairs

ddversepoets.comMonday quadrille. Exactly 44 words excluding the title. The word is muse.

444 words is too short. I recently learned the ASL sign for music and poetry is the same. For some reason that makes perfect sense to me. Two of my passions, music and poetry.

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Broken Clocks

Mute lies the clock on the wall
For three years inattentive
Twice a day if I chance to see
It speaking truth
We laugh in glee

Rare it be I meet when it calls
Who’s to blame for such contention
Death unresolved in who, me?
It fits nicely in it’s nook
I let it continue to lie to me

One day I shall bother and fall
Perhaps when my mood is overly pensive
But not today for a gift so dear, you see
Replaced might bring a few sorrowful looks
But to know the time, what resolve that would be! Write a poem using the poetic form “Rimas Dissolutas.” The choice of topic is entirely up to you.

I hope this fits.

A gift from my daughter some years ago.

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