Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge… #Nonet

Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 113, Happy December! Poets Choice of Words

 

colleens-winter-weekly-poetry-challenge-header.png

graphics-winter-824639.gif

Broken Ground

I fight my way back through snow and rain

My home close, I see chimney smoke

Windows lit by lanterns glow

My path lay deep with snow

The lake forgotten

I hear the sound

Ice cracking

Beneath

Cold

Ground

Feet wet

Sinking fast

My heart freezing

Hope disappearing

I am lost to this world

My voice blown back by the wind

No help has come to pull me free

I pray the Lord, my soul he will free…

signature

For Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge, you can write your poem in one of the forms defined below. Click on the link to learn about each type:

HAIKU IN ENGLISH 5/7/5 syllable structure. A Haiku is written about seasonal changes, nature, and change ingeneral.

TANKA IN ENGLISH 5/7/5/7/7 syllable structure. Your Tanka will consist of five lines written in the first-person point of view. This is important because the poem should be written from the perspective of the poet.

HAIBUN IN ENGLISH Every Haibun must begin with a title. Haibun prose is composed of short, descriptive paragraphs, written in the first-person singular.

The text unfolds in the present moment, as though the experience is occurring now rather than yesterday or some time ago. In keeping with the simplicity of the accompanying haiku or tanka poem, all unnecessary words should be pared down or removed. Nothing must ever be overstated.

The poetry never tries to repeat, quote, or explain the prose. Instead, the poetry reflects some aspect of the prose by introducing a different step in the narrative through a microburst of detail. Thus, the poetry is a sort of juxtaposition – different yet somehow connected.

Cinquain ALSO: Check out the Cinquainvariations listed here: Cinquain-Wikipedia These are acceptable methods to use also. Please add what forms you are using so we can learn from you.

Etheree The Etheree poem consists of ten lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables. Etheree can also be reversed and written 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. The trick is to create a memorable message within the required format. Poets can get creative and write an Etheree with more than one verse, but the idea is to follow suit with an inverted syllable count. Reversed Etheree Syllable Count: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 Double Etheree Syllable Count: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 9, 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Senryu in English 5/7/5 syllable structure. A Senryu is written about love, a personal event, and have IRONY present. Click the link to learn the meaning of irony.

Nonet: The Nonet poem is similar to the Etheree, but with only nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables, etc… until line nine finishes with one syllable. It can be written about any subject and should not rhyme.

After writing a double Nonet, the visual image result is that of an hourglass shape. Because of this shape, these poems often discuss the passage of time.

Shadorma: The Shadorma is a poetic form consisting of a six-line stanza (or sestet). Each stanza has a syllable count of three syllables in the first line, five syllables in the second line, three syllables in the third and fourth lines, seven syllables in the fifth line, and five syllables in the sixth line (3/5/3/3/7/5) for a total of 26 syllables.

When writing a Shadorma I would concentrate on a specific subject. The brevity of syllables is perfect for that kind of structure.

A poem may consist of one stanza or an unlimited number of stanzas (a series of shadormas).

 

Sea Sponge #Poetry

 

sponges-3757293__340.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Sea Sponge

Today my mind is like a sea sponge

Full of pot holes and strange pathways

Each shining and flashing new colours.

Pulling me in, tempting me

With wonderful new ideas.

I jump from one to the next

Like playing hop scotch with my thoughts

Careful not to be drawn into a black hole

Where old memories lay hidden

The kind I have no wish to revisit.

Today I decided to use my real sea sponge

To redecorate my living room

Feeling glad my mind had returned

From the bottom of the sea…

signature.png

#Blog Battle: Heart #Fiction

 

5.png

 

Stone

Mama read me this story when I was no bigger than a bean sprout. About a dragon who believed his heart was turning to stone.

It all happened a long time ago before he learned how to control his flame throwing abilities.

He burnt a village to the ground sp one of the village elders put a curse on the dragon, saying that within a year his heart would turn to stone.

A village girl felt sorry for the young dragon, telling herself that one day she would bring the dragon, who she named Blue, a new heart.

She searched high and low across lands that she had never been to before with no luck. Telling herself it was a stupid idea, she made her way home.

Tired and hungry, she sat down beside a slow running brook. That is where Mary from a nearby village found her. Mary had brought her washing basket and lunch and could see that the child was clearly upset and possibly hungry.

Gently she spoke, ‘Come now, nothing can be that bad…’

Alice told her story.

‘Your blue dragon sounds very beautiful. Dry your tears, you are making your sandwich wet. There is something you can do for your young dragon. Find him a safe place to live, are there any caves where you come from? Dragons love caves.’

Alice nodded her head. ‘I can find one near the top of the ridge. There is fresh water there too.’

‘Good,’ said Mary. ‘Do you think you are brave enough to try talking to your dragon, seeing as how he is a young’un, he will need help finding food. If you can do this, it seems to me the only thing he needs is your friendly heart to break the spell…’

signature.png

#Wordle 380

banner.jpg

Wordle 380.jpg

 

New Day

Air keeps me breathing

Keeps my body on the ground

Keeps me rolling through the days.

Hot summers that wrap me in treacle

Hard to put one foot in front of the other

My mind slipping and sliding

Losing parts of myself to the heat

Can I get the missing parts back?

Or do they reform someplace far away

Making a new entity?

I have no evidence of my sudden decline

I look in the mirror and see me looking back

Memories filter through my mind like dust

Reminding me of the potential that lingers from my dreams

The hope that I will taste victory some day

With bare determination, I break myself

Free from this despondency

I am still young, I can take back some

 Of my dreams and make them real

I will start with the small ones

Take each day one step at a time

Make a list. Number one: find someone to love

With hope to be loved in return

Write that story I promised my twelve-year-old self

As I break away from the mirror, I notice a shadow move

A rush of air against my skin

A whisper of wings, an angel on my shoulder

This was the thought I carried into the new day…

signature.png

Shoes…

 

shoes-1468818_960_720.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

Most Odd

This morning I had gone upstairs to get dressed and make the beds, the way I do each day. Then I went back down to the kitchen to make us coffee, taking Anita’s into the living room, but she wasn’t there.

I found her sitting in my office chair reading Sue Vincent’s post on the computer. I put my coffee down, thinking she would vacate my chair but to my surprise, she said she wanted to finish reading.

Sue’s post was all about how she hates wearing shoes.  Anita has the same problem and has never worn anything with high heels in her life. She was at the bottom of the page now and I thought she would soon give me my chair back.

Turning to me, she said that she wanted to type a comment. Tickled pink, I showed her how to do it and let her loose.  I couldn’t help smiling and marvelling at the sight, for in five years Anita has never touched my keyboard.  Tell a lie; Anita does clean it for me from time to time, when she insists on removing the dust in the office.

Anita hates computers far more than I do, but maybe curiosity will achieve what I haven’t been able to do, I just hope she isn’t after my swivel chair…

Signature Jaye (2).png

#Wordle 379

banner.jpg

 

sunday-whirl-25-nov.jpg

 

Karma

I dread the frost chill of morning

My thoughts twist like barbwire

Remembering the shock, the life I took.

Each time the same face before me

Blood on my hands.

I wish someone could help me to understand.

Stuck between nightmare and reality

I can no longer filter the truth.

Did I do this dreadful thing?

I tell myself it must have taken

Place in some other timeline.

Karma I have to work through

A memory I cannot shake.

It clings to me, fills every pore.

There is no way to mend this dreadful deed

How can I give back a life taken?

I sleep each night, hoping it is in my past

I pray to God it isn’t something yet to come…

signature.png

Moon Dust… #Poetry

 

 

frost-633821__340.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Moon dust blinded my vision

Everything looked strange, opaque, glistening

 I was looking through a snowflake.

My world in white, people I knew float by

Ghosts I hardly recognise.

I felt like the ice queen in the storybook

Without the hardness around my heart.

I rubbed and rinsed my eyes with no effect.

Where do I go from here?

I cannot live without colour, my world turned

Upside down. I don’t like it.

I walk to my favourite park, watching

White squirrels rushing from tree to tree

Rain washed tears slowly remove

The dust from my eyes, colour danced

Where it belonged. I am back in my own world

Two hours of strangeness

I cannot tell how it came to be…

signature.png