dVerse, Poetry

bodies

nobody’s eyes fell here on this text, so nobody knew deep inside

that this poem was all about nobody, till somebody probably did

somebody knew about everything, till nobody knew that he died

so was it somebody or nobody, that lay under coffin’s dark lid

the question it seems that is out there, is who here remains who is hid

everyone’s someone or no one, i think that in time you will see

that everyone answers the call of their number, and so in time ceases to be

submission to dVerse for the Rhyme Royal. This has a diddly-diddly meter 😉

dVerse, Poetry

stitched in 9

word ordered flow landing

specific to being it there here

 

we whilst flew window outward

back and away in then time now

 

echoes of nothing connected not-ness

not connection in the space but there

 

do you bone the feel of that barrel

begin your end and time your stopping

 

together stitching things not (things never were)

 

A second submission for the dVerse Grammar prompt.

 

 

 

dVerse, Poetry

isn’t is

lines full of word had all want

gone in their space for nothing

 

no-word for no-one through slips

given was lost in the found songful

 

silent hope fought in the ground

 

wisp o’er the willing or seeming

not enough up hell to go down

 

heaven fell climbing among stares

word angels incomprehensible spelling

 

bees their being parked en route

 

doing your does or not doing doesn’t

see in your could or not seen couldn’t

 

being your you or not being your be

all of this and not more of the none

 

where the isn’t is and the is isn’t live

 

This is a submission for dVerse where I am hosting this evening. Please come along and share a poem.

 

 

 

 

 

Philosophy, Poetry, Real Toads

mirrors

Who taught us that there are only
196 kinds of people
because there are 196 countries?
We’re all one earthquake, one civil cry
short of becoming refugees
and that speaks a lot about the fault lines
under our own democracies….”
“Go Back to Your Own Country!”
by Ankita Shah & Ramneek Singh

 

Welcome to the Tuesday Platform, a place for sharing poetry. How? Link up a poem from your blog, old or new. Then visit, read, and comment on the offerings of others. Simple! Enjoy, and we look forward to reading your work.

 

 

all is here

in the world

now

 

that which is not

is also

here

 

i cannot grasp the un-graspable

i cannot embrace all the pain

i cannot envelope all the love

i cannot live with all the fear

i cannot bear all the doubt

i cannot believe all the fates

i cannot dance to every tune

 

being played in this moment

but my own

 

being

 

played in this moment

 

i cannot dance to every tune

i cannot believe all my fates

i cannot bear all my doubts

i cannot live with all my fears

i cannot envelope all my love

i cannot embrace all my pain

i cannot grasp my un-graspable

 

here

is also

that which is not

 

now

in the world

all is here

dVerse, Poetry

sleep tight

Welcome!  This is Frank Hubeny. The form today is Ottava rima, an old Italian form consisting of multiple stanzas each of eight lines using iambic meter and having the rhyme pattern abababcc.

Although one can go on and on indefinitely with ottava rima stanzas, for this challenge let’s limit the number of stanzas to four or less. One stanza would do. It can be on any topic you want.

Here’s the procedure.

  • Write your ottava rima poem of 1 to 4 stanzas,
  • post it on your blog and
  • put the link to your blog post in the Mister Linky below.
  • Comment below if you have linked something or have some question about ottava rima. I may not know the answer but it will be fun to try to find one.
  • And don’t forget to read and comment on the other poems that others have linked. We all get to know each other better that way.

 

 

and so to bed i go this night

and lay my head on pillow soft

to sleep perchance without a fright

and stay away from that which oft

has led me to this weary plight

at which my mind has mostly scoffed

that demons which patrol my head

are real as real can be the dead

 

 

image source

Poetry, Real Toads

shocking

The prompt from The Toads today is ‘Out of the Standard: Photo Finish’

For today’s prompt,we are provided with images, and we get to write a poem around them.

But

This wouldn’t be the out of standard without a teeny, tiny twist. Under each photo is an phrase that doesn’t exactly match the photo. Your challenge is to write a poem inspired by the photo, while using the seemingly nonsensical words.

The photos are mine, and you have my permission to repost them at your blog (if you are into that sort of thing).

Keep in mind
Like every challenge, your poem must by newly written and not one which you have previously written which conveniently fits the theme.

That’s it. The platform is yours. The mic is warm.

So go now, my muddy buddies, and bring us back something shiny and new.
Here is my photo/text choice.

old2bfactory
Smoke and mirrors and electro-shock therapy

Here is my poem. Why not submit one of your own over at Real Toads

 

Back in the day

it was brutal

 

bones broken

spirits too

 

no smoke and mirrors

just pure

 

hell bound

electroshock therapy

 

Dr Cameron at McGill

Funded by the CIA

 

to de-pattern

people

 

think about that

de~

pattern

people

 

Court would follow

and follow

 

and follow

to this day

 

 

 

 

 

dVerse, Poetry

Heath’s Cliff

The challenge tonight at dVerse, offered by Kim is to write a modern dramatic monologue about a plot to do away with someone (or something). We don’t have to write twelve stanzas, ( as per  Robert Browning’s ‘laboratory’) but she asks that we emulate the form as closely as possible with regard to the rhyme scheme and metre.

We can write from the point of view of a historical figure, such as Nero, a notorious poisoner, or a more modern non-fictional murderer; we may choose a fictional character or make up one of our own. Whatever we do, Kim wishes to be thrilled and chilled with our evil plans.

I will tell you this tale but you must take a vow
to be honest when sharing the when and the how
for the truth here is daunting and you must agree
to be bold with the telling of what came to be

twas a late summer morning when I did decide
to make quickly a way to be rid of my bride
her regular adultery I could take no more
I had to now get rid of this unseemly whore

I am he they call Heath and a good man to boot
with a large house to dwell in and plenty of loot
‘he’s a catch’ it is said by the fair of this town
but i must first be certain to bring this lass down

five fellows she did bed on the day we were wed
and many more since that day and one of them dead!
she frisks and she frollicks with everyman but one
and so it is I’m certain that she need be gone

to the roaches we wandered to path way up high
it was here i decided how she must now die
to the edge we did wander a view to behold
with a nudge i did send her to a place of pure cold

my distress for to lose her was all folks did see
and with lonely refrain they did all comfort me
in the ground she was buried all broken and torn
and a new day now beckons and new life is born