on my chair
danger lurks in blackness
I know this is temporary. Tick season will end and I’ll stop rationally (or irrationally) imagining ticks crawling up my leg or walking across the back of my neck all the time.
Until then, because I know that the little black buggers hitch rides on my cat, I won’t sit in my chair while she sleeps across the chair back.
Working my way through A Kick in the Head. Today’s poetic form is the Cinquain. I chose to construct my 5 line poem like this: one word, two words, three words, four words, one word
Snowflakes in the air
Hit the ground and disappear
For gosh sakes, it’s May!
Did they miss the spring memo?
Most unwelcome visitors
Trying not to feel bitter about their presence.
Working my way through the poetic forms in A Kick in the Head. Today, a tanka — syllable count 5-7-5-7-7
Light – passive namby-pamby
Heavy – ballistic
This describes the American political lifestyle.
Paul Janeczko says, “A senryu follows the same pattern as a haiku — three lines of 5-7-5 syllables — but it is about human nature rather than about the natural world around us.”
Golden trumpets sound
Hope! Joy! Renewal of life!
Nothing panicky here — just the joy of spring.
And a haiku —
as I work my way through all the poetic types found in
A Kick in the Head.
Priscilla was the oldest, she died at 82
Guilford died much younger, the uncle I never knew
Warren lived ’til 90, the last surviving son
But when my mother passed away, then there were none
To try to get back to writing poetry, I’m doing a second round with “A Kick in the Head” — a book I picked up at a thrift store that gave examples of 29 different poetic forms.
Today’s poem is a quatrain.
Pry my fingers open, break them if You must
I’m tired of clutching junk that will deteriorate and rust
Place in my hands the things that last although I am but dust
Daily prompt: control
To try to get back to writing some poems, I’m going a second round with “A Kick in the Head” — a book I picked up at a thrift store that gave examples of 29 different poetic forms. Today’s poem is the Tercet.
“Daily 3 Fish Limit
Catch and Release”
Poor little fishies
Never any peace