Salvador Tyger Pussycat pussycat fiery bang Pinetree oak Milky Way oaktree pine Question mark pirate ghost high five slash goggle eyes Levitating gemstones cold-headed Munch goes backwards forwards — — — — {*sometimes you just need a spacer poem}
Category: Marathon Poem
Walt and Me (Prompt 8)
Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? Walt Whitman My version Bengal Cat! Bengal Cat! burning light. Christmas pine and summer bloom, the stars at night, Christmas pine and summer bloom, I…
Poem 8 | {I had to give up}
By Ajanta Judd All Rights Reserved – 6am 27/06/2020 Australian EST – No Prompt {I had to give up} I had to give up yearning for you to come back to a shared reality in which a more objective view was mutual and as good…
I’m Not Proud of This – Hour 8, Prompt 8
O Pilot! My Pilot! Our spooked wave ship ended to the left Frosty breathed a tornado ship, prizes and medals and parties Soon the right ship anchor, ears bell, Dancing twin girls Dancing twin boys T T Eyes, Ship Equals Meh plus fencer But O…
prompt 7 hour 7: This is the season to call a spade a spade
hour 7 prompt 7 the season of the days to call a spade a spade this is the season of the days to call a spade a spade, spared no shame for games well played in this season of the days to call a…
Poem 8
At last I came there – where she worked and died. One bed, one window, one door – nothing else. Her bed unable to tell of all she led. I found one board raised up and dug in there I dug up the poorly spelled…
Eleanor Rigby
Leave the rice on the floor where it belongs. Dreamland is not your home no matter how much it beckons to you. Day after day, you wear a surreal mask that you keep in the folds of your existence. Don’t let anyone else see it…
Season of the Covid – hour 7, prompt 7
Covid 19 is its name slithering snakelike is its game come from China, virus be has changed the world eternally some surfaces it stays for days infected breath, the devil plays the elderly, infirm it preys so we shut down economy inside houses, no more…
My AaBb Poem
As dusk emerge as black is on verge. Book of love opens believing,you are still there in my pages.
Hour 8: Life as a Sheep
You make rude gestures, like a sheep. It’s a sign. My family and their family are unhappy about blonde people explaining things More happy about boredom I will give water to this sheep because it’s a sign black holes are coming and black holes are…