Tag: Poetry Forms

  • Read more: Got Guts?

    It’s #FFF — Fandango’s Flashback Friday! This piece was written five years ago and is being recycled today. It’s the Lucky Dip Saturday Mix over at MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. Today we are to write a Somonka: The somonka is a Japanese form. In…

    Got Guts?
  • Read more: Shapeshifter

    So sweetly, your gentle love wound its way around my heart like delicate passionflower tendrils. O, but soon it transformed into a strangling kudzu vine: clinging, binding, suffocating, and finally withering my almost-beating heart — leaving a silent screaming wound.…

    Shapeshifter
  • Read more: Some Hearts: A Villanelle

    Some hearts were meant for breaking Unluckily born in vain Thornbird’s song in the making. Some hearts were meant for taking Not caring if they cause pain Some hearts were meant for breaking. Some hearts go through life faking It’s…

    Some Hearts: A Villanelle
  • Read more: They Say: A Villanelle

    They say you can’t miss what you never had. Who are they and how do they know my heart? I dare them to tell me why I’m not sad. My heart’s leaking tears; the break is that bad. “It’s all…

    They Say: A Villanelle
  • Read more: The One

    Recipe for a Fibonacci Poem 1 syllable for the first line 1 syllable for the second line 2 syllables for third 3 syllables for fourth 5 syllables for fifth 8 syllables for sixth 13 for the seventh If it’s true…

    The One
  • Read more: Pretty Red Flags: A Villanelle

    Because you said you loved me more, O, how could those big brown eyes lie? The pretty red flags I ignored. Our cottage perched along Maine’s shore— Some called it a pie in the sky, Because you said you loved…

    Pretty Red Flags: A Villanelle
  • Read more: Your House: A Villanelle

    I drove past your house yesterday Pumpkins, bare twigs; a chilly breeze Quite an unsettling shade of gray. Paused before going on my way To watch an oak tree shed its leaves I drove past your house yesterday. Squirrels scampering,…

    Your House: A Villanelle