Pre-Everything

In the beginning, was nothing,
No mass, only pure energy.
The nothing that became something
In defiance of entropy
Defiance, though, implies something –
Someone did this deliberately
The energy, and decision,
Both came from God, in his wisdom.

Form: Ottava Rima
This one’s clunky. Definitely one to revisit after the event. Meanwhile – onward!

Prompt: Write a poem set before the world as we know it came to be.

Overtures

When I am lost, and far from all
The home I call my home will call
I remember my first view
Of the home I always knew
Walls and maps don’t mark this space
It’s the people, not the place
When I am lost, and far from all
The home I call my home will call.

Form: Based on an Octelle, but the imagery and personification part still needs work.

Prompt: Use this quote as a jumping-off place – “The land knows you, even when you are lost.”

Next!

A slip
Quickly, adjust
New grip

Hard-pressed?
Water and food
Refreshed.

Too slow?
Check the new rules:
Not so!

Form: Musette

It’s very tempting to throw in the towel since my last poem was submitted 14 minutes past the deadline. “Too bad, tried and failed – as usual. Might as well quit.” this is the litany playing in my head right now. but this time, I’m not going to listen.

Momentary Setback

The lure of disappointment’s strong,
To get it wrong
And let it go
“I told you so”.

It’s hard to keep on fighting when
I could give in
Twelve minutes late,
And such a state…

But I won’t take the easy out
I’ll stand and shout
Though I’m delayed,
I won’t be stayed.

Form: Minute Poetry

Letter to My Younger Self

My dear younger self,
This is your future – no,
Don’t walk off, there’s things
I want you to know.

I remember you well,
So new to the abyss
We’ll return there, but
You can get through this

Happiness is not
Confined to the past
I can promise you
The pain doesn’t last

I can’t promise you
That we win this fight,
But I know this much:
It will be alright

Form: Line Messaging

Jottings on a Dockyard Evening

Smell the fog rise from the coffee
Swelling the rich, dockside air
Tell of the kindness of moonbeams
Spelling the dull concrete fair.

Rush now, the canteen is closing
Push to fit mugs on the shelf
Hush, let the cook leave in peace – she
Must, at long last, feed herself.

 

Form: Lento

Prompt: Write a poem that contains at least five of the following words and possibly all ten: Moonbeam, Coffee, Hush, Fog, Canteen, Damn, Concrete, Fir, Shelf, Dock

I got nearly all of them, just missed the full ten by one. Damn.

Jeweled Moth

The moth chases the pretty lights
Reflected from beautiful things
The moth can’t reach them in one night
And can’t see the jewels on its wings

The butterflies sip sugar cups
The blackbird glories as he sings
The moth at times feels envious,
And can’t see the jewels on its wings

Chasing lights can be dangerous
More than once the candle’s breath stings
The moth quests on, impervious
And can’t see the jewels on its wings

The moth chases the pretty lights
And can’t see the jewels on its wings

 

Form: Kyrielle Sonnet

Prompt: Use the title of a book as the title of your poem

Jingo

If you’d direct the masses to go,
Not necessarily to war
This works just as well for any cause,
These are some rules you ought to know

It’s vital to give the crowd a show;
Remind them what we’re fighting for
And, if any of them seem to pause
Accuse them of loving the foe

Many in your party will be low –
Never, ever sound insecure
Or impatient – yes, they may be bores,
But you still need them, don’t you know?

Once you’ve won the crowd, don’t take it slow!
Be bold and let them gape in awe
Meet opposition with loud guffaws
Ridicule is simple to sow

Hold on tight to power, don’t let go
After all, that’s what power’s for
Bang the drum and magnify the cause
Lest supporters melt like spring snow

If you’d direct the masses to go,
Not necessarily to war
This works just as well for any cause,
These are some rules you ought to know

Form: La’Tuin

Prompt: Use the title of a book as the title of your poem. The poem doesn’t have to be connected to the book.

Ideal Reader

My ideal reader must like
Tamora Pierce, Terry Pratchett,
And Josephine Tey

Though I don’t write magic,
Or comedy, or mystery; yet
These are my best fit.

I think my audience will be small.

 

Form and prompt: Write a sevenling.

Going and Staying

Come to the place where nature’s blessings flow
We’ll settle in a life long left behind
To play the music fast, and sing it slow

The world outside may scream and fall apart
But it can’t hurt us living in the past.

Reality’s become a crazy show.
We’ll take the modern world and hit rewind
Come to the place where nature’s blessings flow

Forget the world and all its many cares
They’ll kill themselves just fine without us there

We’ll tend the crops, we’ll reap, and plant, and hoe
We’ll live the simple life and still find time
To play the music fast, and sing it slow

And if they bomb the cities flat at last
We’ll sell our goods to any who come past.

The two of us need fear no friend or foe
No threats or enmity of any kind
Come to the place where nature’s blessings flow

No duty have we but to us alone
We didn’t make this planet a warzone

We’ll live in peace, and never need to go
We’ll set the pace, and it will be just fine
To play the music fast, and sing it slow

The world could end and we would never know
The perfect spot to live well and unwind
Come to the place where nature’s blessings flow
To play the music fast, and sing it slow

 

Form: Grá Reformata

Prompt: The video in this post. I expect I’ve completely misrepresented the song, sorry – I was listening to the mood rather than the words, and I’ve long wanted to write about the dark side of self-sufficiency.

This form is tricky. I should have given it more than one hour.