Looking at Roses

The rose, queen of garden flowers
Like many women bears sharp thorns
Who grabs roughly affection scorns
Allure and scent her sole powers
Yet those with free-will devours
As love’s perfume fills mind and heart
So too they vow to never part
But passion’s throes dislodge petals
To the ground the bruised bloom settles
Love’s opened bud is blown apart

This is my poem for prompt #3 – Write a Decima poem or write a poem using the theme of roses for the NPM22 Flex Scavenger Hunt. A Decima is a syllabic poem of 10 lines with 8 syllables per line and a rhyme scheme of: a/b/b/a/a/c/c/d/d/c

This one has an old fashioned cadence and language, at least that was Sparky’s impression. It seems that too many have bought into the idea that love is a rough and tumble activity. The idea of a gentle and slower paced wooing has gone the way of the horse and buggy…

Looking Contorted

This is my second poem for the NPM22 Flex Scavenger Hunt using prompt #2 – Write a Cascade poem or write a poem using the word “limber”. A Cascade poem consists of four stanzas with three lines per stanza. Each line of the first stanza becomes the last line of subsequent stanzas. There is no required meter, rhyme or syllable count. As a diagram it looks like: A/B/C, x/x/A, x/x/B, x/x/C where x represents unrhymed lines.

Circus performers twist midair
Bent double to touch chin to heel
Challenge the mind to limber the body

We ran away to find ourselves
Instead we found a labyrinth of emotion
Circus performers twist midair

We learned to contort our bodies for safety
But there is no refuge when the belly is exposed
Bent double to touch chin to heel

Lifelong learning to sever the connection
Know the turns to separate pain from thought
Challenge the mind to limber the body

So often we try to “find” ourselves through adventure, physical challenge, making reckless choices – mostly when we are young. I always knew my self. I never went on pilgrimages searching for who I was or what I was meant to do. Was I lucky? I have no outrageous stories to tell and no embarrassing tales to hide from the world. What about you? Are you a circus performer or a contortionist in your own show?

Looking Juvenile

This is my first poem of the month to kick off the National Poetry Month 2022 Flex Scavenger Hunt using the prompt #1 – Write a Bob and Wheel poem or write a poem using the word “elastic”. I hope you will join me and make some poetry!!

Attentions unwanted
Hands reach for bra strap flick
Boys ethics still stunted
Result in a swift kick

This is a Bob and Wheel, a quintain (5 line poem) with a rhyme scheme of a/b/a/b/a and a syllable count of 2 or 3/6/6/6/6. It is often incorporated into longer poems but can stand alone…

I was a slow developer, unlike some of the girls in my class. Peggy lived in my neighborhood and rode the bus with us. By 5th grade she had breasts like Mount Vesuvius (which was only exacerbated by having the last name of Pompei). Looking back in the year book, it is clear that she was unhappy. She would clutch her books to her chest and hunch over with her head down as she walked swiftly to class. It was no wonder as all the boys stared at her chest with varying degrees of curiosity and lust. Of course this was way back in the dark ages when girls were told that it was their fault that the boys would snap bra straps and attempt to unhook bras. We were counseled to ignore them because “boys will be boys”. Still Peggy was known to be dangerous. She could kick faster than Bruce Lee, and with the force of Chuck Norris. By the time she was in HS she was no longer the only female wearing a bra…