For this week’s prompt, write a sudden poem. The poem could be about something that suddenly happens. Or it could be just whatever words suddenly spring from you. Or… I’ll let you decide what a sudden poem means for you.
Here’s my attempt:
“Deadline”
He digs his fingers deeper into his forehead
than they’ve ever dug before. He reclines until
he’s facing the ceiling. He stares at the ceiling,
exhales. Then, inhales. The world completely silent
waits. And waits. And waits until the engine ignites
and his fingers type faster and faster as if
the words (given the chance) might try sneaking away.
*****
Follow me on Twitter @robertleebrewer
*****
Get Ready for National Novel Writing Month!
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Four minutes…
Four minutes left.
It’s okay,
Take a breath,
No one cares if you don’t finish,
Just go on with their lives and
Probably never notice
You were here.
Next line…
Next line…
Next line…
WHAT’S MY NEXT LINE?
Stop hyperventilating.
You’re being silly.
Two minutes left now
Before the bell.
Keep typing -
You’re almost there.
Spark,
Spark,
Spark!
Revel in the feeling of creation.
Write some more.
Less than a minute now…
I should hurry before the
DING!
(written at school, in the last 4 minutes before my class ends)
SUDDENLY 1 A.M.
A fist, no, a knee in my back, a hock-
joint to the jaw. The puppy’s leaped on top
of bed with us asleep. Knock and snuggle
cold nose in the face. Mack truck of comfort.
I grab and hold. No slack. But then, a sigh,
she licks my finger, tries to creep inside
the sheets, the heap of pillow; hide herself
in a slim crack between my hands and voice.
What nightmare had her frantic? Now lying
on my feet, she breathes deeply, ribs a harp
of dog-lullaby. Who’d guess such bad dreams
in a pup – what mind-sight we think reserved
for humans? What terror teethes there?
I touch her chest. Her heart beats dream.
Snapshots
I carry a pocket-sized notebook
for the times when a sound or an image
hits me over the head, when a snippet
of conversation between two women
waiting for the train amuses or intrigues me,
when I startle a deer at the edge of the wood
on my morning walk, and she startles me, and
we stare at each other, her black eyes to my blue;
when the morning is so crisp, the evening so serene,
the sunset so full of clouds and creation,
that I must get it all down. So many times
I have witnessed something striking and thought,
if I only had my camera. This pen, these small pages
are my snapshots, doing their best to snatch
a sudden moment out of the world, one that lasts
only as a memory, or as words on a page.
YOU
(c) 2012 – G. Smith (BMI)
—————-
Like a shooting star across a velvet sky,
Like the sparkle in a pair of pale green eyes;
Like a lightning bolt from out of the blue;
Suddenly,
Unexpectedly;
You.
Like a smile across a crowded room,
Like that first spring morning when the dogwoods bloom;
Like a heart you discover is true;
Suddenly,
Unexpectedly;
You.
Day to day,
The same old thing;
Stumbling through,
The same routine;
Will I find
Anyone new?
Then suddenly;
Unexpectedly;
You.
Like a baby’s laugh in the middle of the night;
Like a touch that says everything’s alright;
Like finding love makes one from two;
Suddenly,
Unexpectedly;
You.
Suddenly
The wind picked up and blew sandy dust and leaves
Over the land that had been waiting for a storm.
The trees swirled round in honor of the static emissions.
The air changed to ozone and refreshed the lungs.
The dark clouds pushed fast and rushed into the languid
Heat of the previous climate,
The wheat bent down in the field and the rain
Began to pelt its curves with huge drops.
Pushed by the wind, a late crow crossed the road’s gap,
And fell into the poplar tree, giving up a feather.
THEN ” “
Suddenly
emptiness
fills a page
where once words
would crawl.
And now
suddenly
restlessness
fills a mind
where once was
calm
The weather man is laughing. Montana
has snow. After a dry tightwad summer,
a forty-fifty degree swoop, and Fall connects,
knocks the socks off of summer smashes that pinata all to hell.
Snow falls like charms and candy. And we, manic oddities, applaud.
We mysteries; we crust-where-the-pan-met-the-lasagna lovers;
pent-up, penny-wise, pound-downright-silly
performers of nothing important, applaud.
It doesn’t take much. Rain. A few red maples. In the breeze
willows, hanging, wave; grasses, standing, rustle.
Leaves. Sheaths. Chill. And Wham! the brittle,
unbearable, beautiful Fall is piercing
our summer-fever balloon, and we explode
into mending, laughing like the weatherman.
It happened all of a sudden.
He was a stranger
just stumbling down the street.
His bumping into me
seemed avoidable on the mostly empty sidewalk.
Yet somehow our collision occurred.
That in and of itself wasn’t the strange
part, but his teeth sinking into
my shoulder seemed quite peculiar.
As I attempted to stop the blood flow
he continued on.
It all happened so fast.
My eyes began to fog over and
I had the strangest craving for
brains.
Of course that would mean he
was a
zombie and therefore
I am now on my way to being
a zombie.
Since that is
impossible…
And.
I shout at you, you shout at me.
If we had thought bubbles
they would be black clouds
with the wrong sort of pooh
and no honey bees.
I cannot believe how it is possible
to hate you so much.
My blood pressure is up
and I am shaking with furious
resentment.
How dare you argue with me?
But you are you and I am me.
And then I say something
so completely bonkers
it makes the unspoken thought about
the wrong sort of pooh clouds
seem pedestrian.
And we are laughing
and I can’t remember why we were shouting
and neither can you
and the storm is over.
A Poem Escapes
by Juanita Lewison-Snyder
I’m sitting by a large window,
reflections staring back
through the reds and browns
and golds fluttering
just beyond melancholy,
their outlines darkening
in the cold fading light
of an October moon,
a sliver of which curls
itself like a cat in my lap
and suddenly, a poem escapes…
© 2012 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder
GUISE/SURPRISE
on opening the prof’s own slim book of verse
Each page is white space interrupted
by brief dark lines of type –
a trellis or a scaffold; thin frame
for the eye to climb down, word by word.
An iron grate of filigree abruptly
closed. Inside, a sudden spill of light
through leaves – Two kittens glimpsed –
just an instant snapshot, without
the ballet of their leaps – A snug tuffet
of moss in a doorpost corner –
whose door? – The sky blank polo-
mallet white on foggy mornings
without a horse’s sudden
whinny from the paddock.
What’s the poet’s role in all this?
To keep the reader out?
A mask pulled unexpectedly
over the face? He never cast his
shadow on the page.
Wow….for me, BEST POEM of the day! Some really stunning imagery here, kudos!
Take Your Time
There is no need to hurry
when you are marked,
your name written in stone,
no one’s going anywhere
until you die
and then only the mourners,
the headstone remains
the date to be engraved.
Let Go
Suddenly life as he knew it had changed.
After getting up before sunrise to roll
his newspapers, riding his bike along the route
before school and Saturdays and Sundays too,
after graduating college on Saturday afternoon
and reporting for work on Monday morning,
after nearly forty years of showing up early
and leaving late, suddenly it had all ended.
He drove home, the contents of his desk drawers,
shoved in his back seat, along with framed photos
of family, two coffee cups, and at least five hundred
business cards, worthless now. Exactly what he felt.
Suddenly having no reason to set the alarm
lost its joy; the newspapers, the novel
he was halfway through, couldn’t hold his attention.
Time on his hands weighed heavy–heavier
than debt, than guilt, more like chains.
Gradually, he reassessed his state, no worse
than most, better than some. Lacking hope, she
shared hers. She spoke aloud the prayers
for which his heart could not find words,
reminding him what someone had told her:
Worry is praying for what you don’t want.
Nancy, this leaves me speechless. Poignant, complete, honest, heart-felt … wow.
AT THE NET
After the first serve I rush
the net, attack like a tiger already
pouncing on prey. My graphite racquet
raised at the ready, I punch each volley
and make her run, sideline to sideline
until, instead of a curving forehand
trying to pass me down the line, she tries
a short lob. Grinning, I turn, confident
with an impending overhead bullet
but hear the pop of my ankle, rolled over,
and I roll in no-man’s land holding
an ankle already starting to swell.
Yikes! I FEEL this with you, Monica. Great writing!
I don’t recognize your name, but hope to see more of your work.
Watch That Last Step
Welcoming winter with bare arms,
The trees at once drop their coats
As we don ours against the frost.
Wind echoes the coyotes in the hills
And all turns from green to red to brown.
Yesterday was too warm, today too cold;
Autumn comes not in a season
But in a single day.
wow! some great poetry this week!
http://myheartslovesongs.com/2012/10/04/left-alone/
his sudden absence frightened her
he’d proved himself the foundation of her life
she didn’t know what to do
wishful thinking made her wait for his return
she’s waiting
…still
and Fall drags on, saluting death
a morbid gala for what was lost
one day last Winter’s end.
and I, holding on with my fingernails,
hope to last another season,
waiting for my soul’s sudden Spring.
It happened
When I wasn’t looking
Living life
Loving life
No responsibilities
Running in the streets
Kicking that can
Laughing “Safe!”
Grown now
Job and family
Hair thinner
Belly isn’t
And still
In spite of it all
Living life
Loving life
To Wake
Daybreak
is suddenly
upon your face,
small kisses –
skipping stones
teasing the lake
awake.
Love this: “teasing the lake awake.” Beautiful small verse, Misk!
Thank you, Meg.
Time Flies (a haiku)
I looked at the prompt.
Suddenly it was Thursday
Where did Wednesday go?
Don’ t we know it!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LADY POET!
Sudden Awareness
Everything’s the same:
unkempt rooms behind closed doors
call to your sparkling foyer, as they do;
undone assignments marking a strewn timeline
call to your sense of order, as they do;
untouched books from abandoned shelves
call to your diverted eyes, as they do;
Yet today, you hear their urgency.
Today, you know their worth.
Today, you note the distance from your last breath to your first.
Today, you find value in carefully wasted time.
Today, you learn “repent” simply means to change your mind.
Everything’s the same:
unchanged hearts beat, as they do,
but today’s sudden awareness changes everything for you.
Expectations
Suddenly,
Everything was the same.
Excitement,
So quivering and vibrant,
Died valiantly.
The peak, once reached,
Fell away.
Perhaps we’ll make it
Back there
One of these days,
But not
If we keep on trying.
Quit
Your ceaseless striving;
It
Returns ever and only
Suddenly.
Free Fallin’ (a haiku)
brilliant leaves settle
after their brief Autumn dance
revealing bare trees
I suddenly see the new part of me,
A grand design of truth, hidden gold mine,
Streaming through darkness, striking through duty,
Who am I, but one who seeks inner prime.
When weight of doubt rushes over my eyes,
In those gone before me I find my might,
Ancient wisdom bids me believe no lies,
Such truth casts defining rings of pure light.
There is no calmness in worlds colliding,
No patience gliding through knowledge supreme,
Wisdom streams upon ink, clear in writing,
Open a book, words cut through a sunbeam.
Answers ride on waves, knowledge suddenly,
Minds shall open – indifference, risky.
Crash
All day long
Preparing for the cruel storm
When suddenly
A gentle , bitter breeze
Shatters the windows
Crash!
PriyA Jane
Everyone is so good today! I haven’t had time to ponder this subject, but I want to keep up
with this weekly challenge. This is an admittedly strange and perhaps too lenientt take on the
topic. I was eating lunch with a friend recently and we both agreed that we love cheese, and
“suddenly” the words, “Oh Cheese, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways,” popped into my head.
And later in the day I finished the thought. Admittedly light, but perhaps a bit of fun, and actually
regarding me, going into the depths a bit at the end.
CHEESE
Oh, Cheese, how do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.
You layer my lasagne and cover my nachos.
You bring absolute joy to my days.
You boost me up at trying day’s end
When my heart is crying out for a treat.
It’s you, you, that I want to see when I get home;
You that I want to meet
When I open my frig and take a bite and sigh
And relax and crackers grab. And sip merlot
And let frustrations go and forget all that’s drab.
It’s your hearty cheddar and delicate mozzarella
And especially your brie
Which carries me off to thoughts of France,
To the inner, real me.
A poem by Sharon Cooper
Yes, “lenient” has only one “t!” Oops.
Oh, am I ever right there with ya!
Sun Caught
Outside the sun is stuttering on the side-walk
Caught between summer and fall, it pales
Becomes a shadow of itself and backs behind
Low roofed clouds the colour of nothing
A non-negotiable breeze puffs just south of Arctic
Air across small ponds begging for early icing
Their bull-rushes cackle like brood hens
As the wind picks up and pushes their dryness
Hard, forcing them to be more familiar than
They like or are used to; their suede heads bob
And sway, bob and sway – brown as wieners
On a stick, roasting over a bonfire, the geese
Regard all with a sense of the absurd before
Making a chuffing, chuckling noise, then paddle
Into wide circles as they make formations in the water
Then suddenly, no warning, they rise in rows; dozens -
Vee upon vee upon perfect vee, wings in synch, and go
Lovely, Sharon! I especially love your first line.
Sharon, The picture you drew was beautiful!
Running Pathways
Gasping holding out
talk and chat
let out a shout
suddenly it all became clear
Running down pathways
of running water
chasing her ghosts of the past
never ever thinking this would last
Cracks waiting
to catch her
trying to trip her up
trying to make her fall
Suddenly out of no where
a shadow of his body
catches her fall
he is so dear
Hold on tight
do not be scared
trust me
i wont let you go
This he assures her
deep down inside
she does really know
he is her knight in flight
Mystery figure of the night
One Moment
That
one moment,
the one when
my very breath and
frantic
heart
seem to stop
and I can’t quite
catch up
and it is (heavenly)
all
due
to
you.
Diana Terrill Clark
Weatherproof
I sat on the cottage porch with my flute.
Playing out in the wild, it was if
I could see the notes
rising, twisting, wending their way
upward through the forest
canopy. But, before
I could begin, there was a blitzing clap
of thunder (which took me
quite by surprise) as
there had been no distant rumblings,
no previews of coming
attractions. And as
though the thunder had been a zipper
in the darkening clouds, rain
fell like seeds, fighting
with each other to be first to fill a silo.
And so inspired, I raised
the flute to my
lips, and let my soul push its way upward
as the raindrops crowded
down—all part of
the same symmetry—thunder and music,
rain and soul—all threads in
the same tapestry.
So different. Creative use of all the senses. Quite lovely!
Yellow trees
fill the roadside
like the flames of a car wreck.
Gone too soon;
summer’s last
bloom.
Lovely, Ann!
Fangirl
“Suddenly playing the charming bad guy was my thing.” ~Ray Liotta
O evil villain. You’re so cute.
The silver screen? I’m in pursuit.
Or TV’s weekly episodes?
My fangirl’s heart (oh no!) explodes.
I doubt that suddenly you’d play
a scene where Icould be your prey.
But I can dream. By tons and loads.
My fangirl’s heart (oh no!) explodes.
Just what is it about you, dude?
Oh! Flash your charm. I am so screwed.
So bad guy, what’s your secret codes?
My fangirl’s heart (oh no!) explodes.
O evil villain. You’re so cute.
My fangirl’s heart (oh no!) explodes.
###
HAHAHA! Your cleverness knows no bounds!
Heeheehee
This is the BEST!!
An Example of a Poetic Moon
“You moon the wrong person at an office party and suddenly you’re not ‘professional’ any more.” ~Jeff Foxworthy
I swear it’s really not my fault.
(Perhaps I’ll blame Marie. Or Walt.)
Poetic mooning’s silly. Right?
But rhyming’s trite. What should I write?
Well then…just take a Kyrielle.
Imbue it with word play. Oy. Kvell.
Clichés will never get stage fright
but rhyming’s trite. What should I write?
Perhaps some long unmetered song
about love’s labour’s lost. Right? Wrong.
I’d rather not be too polite
but rhyming’s trite. What should I write?
I swear it’s really not my fault
but rhyming’s trite. What should I write?
###
XOXOXOX!
Fair Warning
Don’t make any
sudden moves
drastic changes
or over
enthusiastic promises.
Her fight
has unfurled
in mid
-flight.
.
Ooooooo, I like this!! Well penned!
Thanks so much, Miss R.
Free Fallin’
Sky diving
can be a great rush
’til the chute
won’t deploy.
It’s not the fall that kills you;
it’s the sudden stop.
Aura
“Suddenly I’ve got an overwhelming desire to surround myself with the aura of classical and Romantic art.” ~Sylvester Stallone
Pedestrian: what I once chose
to brand myself, but heaven knows
as I go on, penchant must change.
To salve, I now must rearrange
my ordinary life, which ran
chaotic loops without a plan.
So, suddenly, this grand exchange:
to salve, I now must rearrange
that aura. Graced, romantic art
sheds colors I once learned by heart
whose spectrum’s past my vision’s range.
To salve, I now must rearrange.
Pedestrian: what I once chose.
To salve, I now must rearrange.
###
John!
Whoa
My feet slide over the paved walkway
Covered in sand and gravel from the tourship passengers’ boots
Invading our precious city market
They don’t know it doesn’t snow in Canada, in October, not the populated parts, not when it’s hot and sunny out
Mr. Lee
A friend of mom’s
He’s going to tear up, I know it, I feel it
She worked for him, and he loved her so, her soul
We all did
He minds his store one day a week now
Fully trusting that grown kid of his, finally
What will I think
When it’s his turn to cash out
Will someone miss Mr. Lee like he misses my mother?
When it comes, will it happen fast?
A sudden downturn, a merciful off switch?
Or will he too sufffer long and hard too?
BECOME THE CHANGE
Here we’ve all come together,
poets with words to change the world
for good. And here you are
suddenly yelling at that girl –
for what? Her words. Were they too
soft or subtle for you?
Not enough spark, or fire? No
explosion, riot, blowing
the old bad world to smithereens?
She’s walking away now,
her words packed carefully back
into the satchel of her mind,
ready for the winds of change
to carry beyond
anywhere your yelling could reach.
I have been her…
Paula, for whatever reason, it won’t let me post under your poem. All I wanted to say is this:
Oh, my sweet friend …
Hugs.
Yes, sad. My heart breaks for those whose soulmates are no longer by their side.
Skies Fall
(Palindrome)
skies fall
sudden rain
cover of clouds
winds swirl
whirlwind dash
shelter
I seek
shelter
dash whirlwind
swirl winds
clouds of cover
rain sudden
fall skies
So a palindrome of the words, not the letters? I’ve never consider that. Now I’m going to try it.
Downpour
It’s sudden
even if predicted
this cold, drenching rain
startles
as it permeates my senses
and sends me scurrying
to the nearest shelter
in winds of tempest
as clouds shadow the sun.
Inside, I look out the window
for clear skies
and the horizon,
promises
of what is yet to come.
LONGING
(a shadorma)
Side by side,
sweethearts and soulmates.
Whispered words,
by moonlight,
tender touches tantalized.
Suddenly no more.
On Some Lonely Afternoon
It doesn’t have to be sudden
Like the snapping of a guitar string
When you are lost, in the mood, groovin’
Having good times
Laid back, mellow…
Did they sneak away one by one?
Until that moment you realized
The good times all had gone away
And you, like the cheese
Were left standing alone?
If you strolled out on the sidewalk
In this town you’ve lived in all your life –
Who would there be to suddenly
Touch your arm and ask you
“Where are you going?”
“:Where have you been?”
So Happy
That giggle
of delight burrowed
into a chuckle, deep-throated
and full that made your eyes shine.
In a single breath, a feeling twisted,
pirouetted, turned on its toes,
and the sobs came
out of nowhere.
Deliciously crafted imagery here. Thanks for sharing!
Hindsight
If I could change you,
I wouldn’t change a thing –
but I would change the weather
and take away the snow,
melt away the ice
so you wouldn’t have to go.
If I could change you,
I wouldn’t change a thing –
but I would give a few more hugs
and spend more time with you,
share some silly laughs
and marvel at all you can do.
If I could change you,
I wouldn’t change a thing –
but I would change the time
so you stayed a bit more,
or maybe even left
the day before.
If I could change you,
I wouldn’t change a thing –
you were perfect
the way you were,
I just wish you were here
that’s what I’d prefer.
In a second, you were gone
on a road covered in snow and ice,
no longer here to hold
you paid the ultimate price.
I would change anything
to have you.
{Note: This is based on a true event but not directly related to me. I just put myself in the parent’s shoes.}
Michelle, this brought tears to my eyes. Very powerful stuff.
Oh my. Such empathy in your lovely piece.
Thank you Nitapita and Marie.
a scream in my throat
we screech to a sudden stop…
I hate Disneyland
Actually I LOVE Disneyland – brings out my inner child!
But the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror freaked me out. Never again!
Rising from the rank
fetid muck n mire
blinking innocent stands
or
rising from the sea
flung upon the sandy shore
separate sentient
or
from the sparkling
myriad mass of creatures swimming
one stands on the shore
mhmmm you get the idea
the words are not quite there
and I am out of here
back later to read
enjoy the day
slowly
suddenly
fully
And you know what? I love your “Enjoy the day slowly, suddenly, fully”
These hands
One night as dawn neared
At the keyboard a single vein
Popped in stark relief.
I feared
What was this? what could it be?
Silent shouting I rushed to the lavatory
Held that hand above my head
Heart pounding with catastrophic dread
Watched the blood drain
From that pounding prominent vein
Sighed in relief that I might just
Be late-night writing insane
Returned to keyboard, calm, to type again
And watched the vein pop hit with chagrin
No dread curable disease was with I struck
Just fallen into aging symptomatic muck
Maybe it’s a Cover-up like Veneers over Unflattering Teeth
As autumn prunes summer,
poetries, like gold-plated leaves,
pirouette in my head. Ordinarily
this happens when daylight is still
a stranger or night is a little black
dress, and a half glass of some
good dream spilled on it.
I don’t always strive to catch
and release, as if there’ll always be
a great supply of creativity flowing
to be fleshed out. I know this.
I know this. I know.
I hear a faint voice, sometimes
piteous, sometimes snappy beneath
cluttered sills of my mind:
“esteem the rash break-ins;
don’t bury me alive.”
Like Andrew’s, this is so excellently penned, Yolee. WOW. “when daylight is still a stranger or night is a little black dress, and a half glass of some good dream spilled on it” is especially lovely and haunting. Wow.
Gracias, Marie Elena, You are wonderfully kind.
Absolutely love the similes and metaphors in your poem! Gorgeous.
Hi Michelle-
Thank you for the positive feedback. it is encouraging. Glad you love the similies and metaphors.
Back later to read …. ROBERT -BRILLIANT TODAY,
Suddenly it comes and not on little cat feet
It won’t
I can’t
It probably
Was something
Invented
By
Men
Nothing
Nothing
Just
slapping
Skin on skin
Skin in skin
Ugh
Ceiling staring
Pillow face breathing
Skin slapping
Slap , Slap,
Ridiculous
A little warm
A little odd
What??
WAIT!!
OMG!
the beginning
it comes unannounced
with a childproof lid
you can scarcely open
on mornings that are hard
you know old men retiring
looking younger than you
happy couples who barely
show their scars, children all
you turn away and keep
churning words like butter
words about life and hope
and stupid things no one
even cares about – firing them
into some vast echo chamber
listening a bit too hard
pathetic for acclamation
then one Wednesday at 9am
everything stops. And you are
a fool with a moleskin notebook
and nothing left to say
Oh, wow. EXCELLENTLY penned. Isn’t this what we all experience/fear? Wow.
Love this one Andrew – raw with emotion.
So many things in this i can relate to! Well said.
Suddenly
Grasping for truth, living out of contol
Dreams giving clues, from a damaged soul
Riding lifes waves, like a crashing river
Never see the whole picture, only a sliver
Suddenly, you realize you’ve known all along
Sometimes the truth can feel so wrong
… and speaking of powerful. Well done, nitapita. (And cute pen name!)
Thanks, Marie Elena.
In the shadows
He lurks
Waiting
For you
He’s invisible
Until now
You know who he is
He’s Oliver Sudden.
Good one! This sounds like something Walt would come up with.
Oh to be in the same company as Walt!
This one made me laugh!
Clever!
Thanks for the laugh! Very fun poem!
Myrtle Beach Headline August 9th, 2012
S wift
U ndertow
D eath
D arts
E fforts
N il
L ost
Y outh
Oh my. Quite powerful!
Chev, Walt, and Connie lined up in the top 3 spots? Niiiiiiiiiice!!!!!
And Robert’s “as if the words might try sneaking away” — how I can relate!
Oh Marie Elena – there’s an immediacy to your poem that’s so heartfelt … well-done, you put the pain on the page and that’s not always easy.
Thank you, Sharon. <3
This,
her trek
from healthy
happy owner
of her own business
to wholly disabled,
hallucination-ridden
Tardive Dyskinesia-wrought,
terror besieged, anxiety plagued
schizophrenic, mood disorder patient
has filched her life for too many years and must
stop.
Knowing your backstory, this one breaks my heart.
Thank you, Susan. How kind.
You pack so much into this form, Marie. And a great “stop” at the end – this one works on many levels.
Thank you, Andrew. I kept going back and forth between ending with “end,” or ending with “stop.” Still not certain which I like better. I also couldn’t come up with a title.
This is just terrible (in its sadness, I mean). Well-written. Hugs, Marie.
Aww, thanks Jac. You’re so sweet.
Oh, Marie. Is this you? Sending big hugs.
It’s my daughter, Sharon. Mental illness is a horrible, horrible thing.
Thank you so much for the hugs.
So sorry Marie and lots of hugs to you. Powerfully written poem.
Thanks so much, MIchelle.
Night Terror
S uddenly a high shriek pierces the night.
U nder slumber I fumble for the light.
D eadly still, I listen for the sound,
D arting fearful eyes all around.
E choing voices fill the halls,
N oting the scream which appalls.
L aughing the farmer points out,
“Y ou’ve heard a peacock, no doubt.”
Oh yes – that appalling scream! Love the acrostic and the rhyme.
Andrew, I wasn’t sure if it was the peacock or peahen so I played the sounds on my computer and forgot to warn my husband. He came running out thinking someone was hurt. It turns out they make similar sounds. They both sound like a lady screaming.
Ahahaha – the poem and the back story are great Connie …
Great Acrostic Connie and love the back story as well.
Oh this is brilliant! I couldn’t help but also think of that screech owl scene from My Cousin Vinny!
I love your poem, Robert.
Yes, I agree with Laurie, Robert – “Deadline” rocks.
What they said!
Cruisin’
You’re sailing along like a melody,
a song you’ve hummed hundreds of times.
But the words escape you, blinded.
Headlights from the car crossing
the median meant to separate.
It’s too late to steer clear.
Suddenly mangled metal
becomes your playlist.
Yowee. My son-in-law lived that. Life altering.
Recently loved this one. . .excellent poem, Walt! BTW, would you mind reading one of my recent poems, “Gullibility” that is on my blog? Here’s the link:
http://paulatohlinecalhoun1951.wordpress.com/2012/10/07/gullibility/
I always enjoy reading your blog, whenever I get the chance! And, keep on cruisin’!
“Fade”
Sudden sunlight
startles eyes
prepared for gray.
Refocusing reveals
a well lit
gray day
and the stirrings
of light
fade.