Tag: mindful poetry
member name: Susan Budig
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December 23, 2009 04:47 AM EST --
Tracy Fishman dithered for only a second before striking a match on a remnant of sandpaper, causing the phosphorous head to explode into brilliant flame giving her heat as well as . . .
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January 16, 2009 12:05 PM EST --
Sonnets befuddle me. I know one thing, in part thanks to Billy Collins , a sonnet contains fourteen lines. There are many different variations of the sonnet. You'll see in mike . . .
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October 24, 2009 10:53 PM EDT --
My dramatic monologue is too long to upload to Gather. I've put it on Youtube; you can watch it there if you'd like.
Corner of Juniper and Fourth
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November 23, 2009 01:52 PM EST --
Act blasé.
Craft deftly.
Earn fabulous gifts however I justifyingly know.
Lasciviously mention names of people.
Quickly read salacious tales.
Utilize voluptous women.
X-tasy: . . .
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December 18, 2009 06:50 PM EST --
We wait, as Christians, for a miracle particularly during this time of Lent. And we wait, as a family, for a miracle for Jaci. I don't know the shape of that event. It might be in a healed body. Or it . . .
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March 20, 2008 02:15 AM EDT --
sestina
Money for Nothing in Sugarville, Tennessee
On my left hand, I wear a diamond ring,
A gift from my old man, he calls me his sugar.
On my right hand, I wear nothing.
Today the skies . . .
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November 03, 2008 01:38 AM EST --
A prose poem tells a story with lyricism and poignancy. It's not just taking a piece of writing and calling it thus. There are rules to this form and you can find them here . . . .
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December 08, 2008 12:53 AM EST --
I suppose I'm cheating in a way. I keep picking forms for which I already have at least one example of my own. And I confess, the sestina is one of my absolute favorite forms. You . . .
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January 16, 2009 12:34 PM EST --
I never saw a moor
Her words confirm with certainty
I never saw the sea
My God waits upon the shore
We build a wordless rapport
Using names of she and he
Interchangeably
We encompass . . .
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April 14, 2009 01:40 AM EDT --
April is a month for counting. How many Easter eggs in my basket? How many more weeks of school? How many more minutes of daylight each day? For those in the USA, we . . .
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June 07, 2009 01:08 AM EDT --
A triolet , a French-developed poetic form, repeats one particular line three times, hence its name. Because of the repetition, something that haunts you or dwells in you like an obsession--and . . .
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September 30, 2009 02:45 PM EDT --
This form will be very approachable, but what I'm going to ask you each to do might be a challenge. Quite likely many of you have written dramatic monologues to some degree. See . . .
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November 03, 2009 01:08 PM EST --
Not Counted
I am not on the list of names Mournfully read each September eleventh Won’t someone weep for me?
Hunched in a bundle of rags, that was me Sleeping off the vodka, forgetting . . .
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December 05, 2009 03:35 AM EST --
My clutched and folded map Stamped to fill every gap. Each space Marked soundly, all in place Each letter, none erased--success! This game, I did obsess Of that, I must profess. And now My wrinkled . . .
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May 04, 2009 02:28 AM EDT --
Tell me
What I can do
To make you understand
That what I can do for you is
Listen.
Birdbath.
Her gaze graces
this turbid bowl, as if...
roil'd feathers, her only concern.
Rainfall. . . .
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September 09, 2009 01:14 AM EDT --
"A glass of water, s'il vous plait, sir?" she asked in a voice quite humble. He stared as if she were a Wiccan faerie, then tossed in the air his baseball. "Get the bloody water youse-self, ye bitch," . . .
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October 20, 2009 03:27 PM EDT --
Although I scrubbed with energy, the marks remain On windows free of grime, streakless, opaque How beauteous my life looks, yet all is vain.
Birds twitter, raucous chirping, in disdain Dropping ordure . . .
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December 01, 2009 01:11 AM EST --
Because December is a month of emotional excitement for many, the form that I present to you will be one that makes you sit and count on your fingers and say words out loud trying to find a simple, . . .
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December 07, 2009 03:11 PM EST --
The value of my tea, And chamomile is key to drink, Loses essence, I think If poured into the sink or gulped. Serenity is sculpt, But in haste rendered null and void When, like tea leaves, destroyed. . . .
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September 25, 2008 01:12 AM EDT --
That's the way it sounds to me
My hand dragging in the water
As you bow her violin in key
We laugh and drink Vichy water
My hand dragging in the water
The contrails in the sky
We laugh . . .
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