Week 18

I haven't felt very creative lately. I think this project is just gonna take longer than a year to complete, haha. But I wrote this to commemorate the lives and deaths of three kings and a queen of media that have passed on last week.

Death in Threes

They say that death shall raid in groups of threes,
And truthfully it seems to me they do,
For this past week was plagued with loss of these,
And so we mourn them all with eyes subdued.

When Ed Mcmahon was lost at eighty-six,
The world gave trembling sighs for his sad death,
For with him gone we'll miss the Carson mix,
As both the ancient stars have lost their breath.

After him, Farrah Fawcett met her end,
Fighting cancer as only angels do,
But though her fight is over she ascends,
As we recall her beautiful hair-do.

Third death to course, Michael Jackson passed on,
A man of mystery, both black and white,
And though he will never see another dawn,
It's those he touched with music that still might.

We thought the deaths were done with Pop's true King
For three is plenty, we all must agree,
But only Billy Mays, the Advert King,
Would give another ABSOLUTELY FREE!

Week 12

This poem is written as a Rondel. A Rondel is a medieval French verse written in 13 lines with only two rhymes in its three stanzas. It employs a two‐line refrain which opens the poem and recurs at lines 7 and 8, the first line (or, in a 14‐line variant, both opening lines) also completing the poem. The rhyme scheme—with the repeated lines given in capitals—is thus ABba abAB abbaA (B). Although it has no fixed meter, I have a tendency to write with ten syllables per line...Anyway, enjoy. =)

Clarity

In search of prophesy come look to me,
In sweetened tea, I am the crinkled leaves,
You have no need this day to drop the eaves,
Look deep within my hidden depths and see.

I know you're bound. See me! I am your key,
I am the light in your much darkened eves,
In search of prophesy come look to me,
In sweetened tea, I am the crinkled leaves.

Stretch forth your hand and take safety, I plea!
I, your calm amidst storms and violent seas,
Your shining knight against our love's dark thieves,
Allow a dance for future's jubilee,
In search of prophesy come look to me.

Week 9

Nani is my kitty, btw. Figured I'd toss that out there for the title to make sense =)
Nani?

The sound of elephants romping along,
Its echo potent on the hard wood floor,
Each step a feroce beat in half-voiced song,
A melody hid in staccato throng,
Her paws strike 'long and strong like drums of war.

A poignant pause from the cacophony,
As all at once the rumbling foot-steps cease,
The silence rolls on--then a howling plea,
The yowl evokes the heart of a banshee,
Before again resumes the quiet-the peace.

Her mood pitches much like the roiling sea,
At times so still and sweet--but then a keen.
I'm drawn around the corner to go see,
And there she sits as fine as royalty,
Her low meow as regal as a queen.

She's perched before a portal to the night,
Her eyes stare out with their internal shine,
A silent foe within her hunter sight,
The enemy will fall without a fight,
The door withheld! She leaves no sign.

Week 7

Random challenge piece that I could not see myself seriously writing...so I wrote it with humor instead.

How Dare They Take Our Fun?
A tale of youth lost.

The time has come my friends for us to show
The world again that we are what they wish
To be! To stand against a common foe,
And feed their worthless hides right to the fish!

They've stepped too far, they've said too much,
Their words are lies, their vulgar deeds disgust,
With me you know you'll find your needs, and such
Fine fiends will to the fires of fondue be forced.

With me you get what they forbid, Pixi sticks
And Muskateers, some Milky way and Mike
'n Ike shall come your way. We dare to mix
Our drinks, our bowls of punch we dare to spike!

Indeed you now 'gain hear the truth! They ban
sugar, liquor, and fun! Silenced ditties
And halted dance, they use their big red crayon
To strike away our earned felicity!

The government has 'slaved us all! Their lies
Are far too much to bear. We must, it seems,
Stretch forth our grasping hands to reach new skies,
And in the end forgo our loss of dreams.

Week 6

Rushin' along...

Walk of Shame

My shoes click loud across the misty night,
As sunlight starts to peek over the hills,
The streetlights wink and twink out of my sight,
The morning mist cuts through my clothes and chills.

The walk of shame the world has come to know,
The strut has left my sorry step. Why now
Do I shamble along? Where is my glow?
Next year will be a different tale, I vow.

Oh what went wrong in this dark night? It was
So bright, the mood so right. Why do the stars
Twinkle out of my sight? It's gone, my buzz,
The Valentine's love song fade 'yond the bars.

The length of roses fall from my grasping hands,
Their petals crunch softly on the asphalt,
My steps click on across the shrouded land,
As heart of mine I stash into a vault.

~

I posted this at a poetry site that I frequent and got this response that I loved so much that I didn't want to lose it.
Polonius: A very evocative verse, [Kai], where you dwell on the sense of failure, the humiliation of rejection, as the factor that makes love lost painful, as opposed to the loss of joy or its promise. The shame is more encroaching, a harsher reflection than the loss of someone we thought we could expect to love us. At the same time, you add to the dark mood with a self-deprecating humour.

Week 5

...ish. Okay, I'm really late, but when the muse leaves, the muse leaves. Maybe I'll toss out a few early ones and make up the weeks, heh. Anyway, this is called a Minute Poem which is a rhyming piece of iambic pentameter that has 12 lines of 60 syllables in the format of 3 stanzas of 4 lines and 8-4-4-4 syllables. My rhyming is flip-flopped, but it felt right, and that's really the most important part.

The Darkened Haze

Tis true I've seen some better days,
Some brighter nights,
Through no dark haze;
Where are those lights?

The lights have dimmed, the days hold fog,
Not thin white mist,
The type that clogs,
The dark persists.

Yet far away through hazed distance,
A golden ray,
Oh how it once,
Lighted my day.