Tagged: poems

One Sentence Writing Challenge

I’m still in Tolstoy’s short stories. Again, one particular sentence just struck me as perfect. So here’s the challenge: In the below comments, let’s see if we can write with similar excellence. (One sentence.)

The bonfire was extinguished, the forest no longer looked as black as before, but in the sky the stars still shone, though faintly.

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Here’s my attempt: The young boy stopped running, the city moved even faster, but he still felt her hand in his, though now she did the squeezing.

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But Who Can Explain Longing To My Child?

But who can explain longing to my child?

 

The teardrop tries but fails,

For it carries many.

 

The silenced voice is unheard,

The pounding heart, muffled.

 

The knotted gut is unseen,

The lumped throat, concealed.

 

But who can explain longing to my child?

 

I could explain longing to my child,

But for it is not when I am with her.

Night

If the shining sun in the blue sky

Reveals everything for what it is,

We must also confess that it adds a heavy weight to life.

But night!

Night, sable night, lifts this load.

Like the unrestrained black cosmos

That floats above us,

Night furthers freedom–

Freedom to visit secret destinations,

Commit private acts,

Admit confidential thoughts.

Night.  The place where

Love heightens,

Hate deepens, and

Hope–unconquerable hope–soon rises.

Wonderful Weather – A Sestina

A Sestina is form of poetry.  A restrictive form of poetry.  It has six stanzas of six lines, then a three line stanza.  The last words of each stanza are the tricky part.  After the first stanza, the last words have been chosen.  The full pattern is as follows:    

  1. ABCDEF
  2. FAEBDC
  3. CFDABE
  4. ECBFAD
  5. DEACFB
  6. BDFECA
  7. ECA or ACE (called envol or tornada–it must also contain the other end-words, BDF, in the course of the three lines so that all six appear in the final three lines.)

 

Wonderful Weather

Leaves horizontal foretold stormy weather,

Foretold darkened skies.  Danger lingered in the air.

Standing together, the two, a pair

United in disgust,

They heeded the captain, and ventured to the bow.

Remaining anchored would prove too intense.

Remaining anchored would prove too intense,

The port must be abandoned in search of fair weather.

Cracking, breaking, crunching sounded the bough,

Unable to stand the force of the air.

Leave they must, no other option need be discussed.

Trust me, he said, and so complied the pair.

Trust me, he said, and so complied the pair.

The swelling sea stopped short of intense,

Honeymoon over, hidden from each other was disgust.

Such an event, to be ruined by weather,

It seemed that love was no longer in the air–

At least, until he took that fateful bow,

At least, until he took that fateful bow.

Fading from view, the trees, the storm began to pare.

Not upon them yet, water was in the air.

Only yesterday, they were in tents

Deciding whether or whether

Not to follow through with what they discussed.

Not to follow through with what they discussed

Was the decision they made.  Her hair bow

Was loosed by the weather,

A light green, the green of a pear.

The deck dropped out from under, intense

The moment became, as they hovered in the air.

They hovered in the air,

Their eyes absent of disgust.

The moment was intense.

Port side, starboard side, stern and bow,

All dashed away, all left the pair.

Never before this feeling, never before this weather.

Over too quickly, the air vanished; feet returned to the bow.

Disgust gone for good, the pair

Called to the Captain whose eyes were intense, “Wonderful Weather!”