RLW
Speaking the truth with love....and rhyme. :) RLW = RhymeLovingWriter (AKA a lady from the wheat fields of KS) rhymelovingwriter.com
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Written by RLW

Climax

Fingertips run –

lengths of possibility;

tapping here – teasing there,

ripe expectancy filling parchment

fold by fevered fold.

Aligned, find ink blots,

bearing evidence…of passion.

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Written by RLW
Climax
Fingertips run –
lengths of possibility;
tapping here – teasing there,
ripe expectancy filling parchment
fold by fevered fold.
Aligned, find ink blots,
bearing evidence…of passion.
5
3
4
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25 reads
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Written by RLW

No Surprise

Run, fast as you can,

down pages booked as

history of man.

Choose among varied

narratives as path

to guide joy and pain.

What gain to lie, deny,

portray or splay as truth

what never knew the name?

No game becomes this flame

of man on man to end

a life or more engaged.

Enraged, no reason

bears the light of day.

Newness sees no sun.

When once begun, love

suffers self as key.

Will we never see?

7
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Written by RLW
No Surprise


Run, fast as you can,
down pages booked as
history of man.

Choose among varied
narratives as path
to guide joy and pain.

What gain to lie, deny,
portray or splay as truth
what never knew the name?

No game becomes this flame
of man on man to end
a life or more engaged.

Enraged, no reason
bears the light of day.
Newness sees no sun.

When once begun, love
suffers self as key.
Will we never see?
7
3
5
Juice
35 reads
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Written by RLW

Then Again

Look

again.

You said I’m fine.

I made you mine.

Turn

again.

I like this view.

I’ll marry you.

Lost

again.

I told a lie

and watched love die.

Try

again.

A heart forgives

so love can live.

Hope

anew.

Another chance,

no backward glance.

Then

again…

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Written by RLW
Then Again


Look
again.
You said I’m fine.
I made you mine.

Turn
again.
I like this view.
I’ll marry you.

Lost
again.
I told a lie
and watched love die.

Try
again.
A heart forgives
so love can live.

Hope
anew.
Another chance,
no backward glance.

Then
again…
4
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5
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Explore the concept of Infinity in a Poem
Written by RLW in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Are We There Yet?

So innocent, when whispering the plea

considered as subjective consequence,

of child-like count of time when once commenced

on drives or other games of ‘wait and see’.

So evil sounding when denounced with glee

by each espousing bigotry; defense

of all unholy ever building fence

with no desire to set the captives free.

What then, as each infinity defines

or else laments when change refuses hold?

Will ever day or moment answer plea?

Arrival’s gate elusive – she who pines

for end to wait, must wander fairly bold.

Imagination writes an ending – see?

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Explore the concept of Infinity in a Poem
Written by RLW in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Are We There Yet?


So innocent, when whispering the plea
considered as subjective consequence,
of child-like count of time when once commenced
on drives or other games of ‘wait and see’.

So evil sounding when denounced with glee
by each espousing bigotry; defense
of all unholy ever building fence
with no desire to set the captives free.

What then, as each infinity defines
or else laments when change refuses hold?
Will ever day or moment answer plea?
Arrival’s gate elusive – she who pines
for end to wait, must wander fairly bold.
Imagination writes an ending – see?

7
2
6
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42 reads
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"You'd want to keep me. I'd want to be kept. What a disaster that would be."
Written by RLW

Curious Turns

We two should never have met. Some quirk of cosmic happenstance caused paths to cross that day. I was looking for the best linguini money could buy. You weren’t looking at all. Our collision at the corner of 5th and Tambour took us by surprise. I wanted to wallop you for not watching where you were going.

Then I saw your eyes. They held that curious shade of cloudy blue, like summer skies on the prairie before a thunderstorm. My heart gave leap as I heard my voice respond “It’s OK”, at your hasty apology.

But it was not OK. Not then. Not now.

Despite the sparks at your first touch, when offering a hand to steady me, nothing more should have happened – nothing beyond a nod and curt response to send us on our ways.

But paths had crossed, contact was made, and fate would have her due.

We schemed to spend free seconds feeding our infatuation’s hunger, learning every secret that new lovers want to know.

Mere two weeks in I realized the folly of my choice. Nothing real could grow between us. I, hard charging towards my dream had little time for you who lazed content, taking life without a care. Oil and water mixed better than we two.

I planned that night to tell you over dinner. Platitudes rehearsed themselves to soothe your disappointment – a sort of salve for heartbreak, fully encouraging you to move on to better things.

Imagine my surprise arriving home to find a note, tacked upon my door. It read:

"I’m gone – for good. You'd want to keep me. I'd want to be kept. What a disaster that would be."

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"You'd want to keep me. I'd want to be kept. What a disaster that would be."
Written by RLW
Curious Turns


We two should never have met. Some quirk of cosmic happenstance caused paths to cross that day. I was looking for the best linguini money could buy. You weren’t looking at all. Our collision at the corner of 5th and Tambour took us by surprise. I wanted to wallop you for not watching where you were going.

Then I saw your eyes. They held that curious shade of cloudy blue, like summer skies on the prairie before a thunderstorm. My heart gave leap as I heard my voice respond “It’s OK”, at your hasty apology.

But it was not OK. Not then. Not now.

Despite the sparks at your first touch, when offering a hand to steady me, nothing more should have happened – nothing beyond a nod and curt response to send us on our ways.

But paths had crossed, contact was made, and fate would have her due.

We schemed to spend free seconds feeding our infatuation’s hunger, learning every secret that new lovers want to know.

Mere two weeks in I realized the folly of my choice. Nothing real could grow between us. I, hard charging towards my dream had little time for you who lazed content, taking life without a care. Oil and water mixed better than we two.

I planned that night to tell you over dinner. Platitudes rehearsed themselves to soothe your disappointment – a sort of salve for heartbreak, fully encouraging you to move on to better things.

Imagine my surprise arriving home to find a note, tacked upon my door. It read:

"I’m gone – for good. You'd want to keep me. I'd want to be kept. What a disaster that would be."

6
1
9
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51 reads
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Write a creative 'Roses are Red' poem. Change it up, make it funny, sad, romantic, scary, etc.! :)
Written by RLW in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Deconstructed Reconstruction

“Roses are red.”

(That’s what the rhyme said,

or rather, it writ

with poetic wit.)

“Violets are blue.”

(Would you pick that too

if yours was the choice

first giving this voice?)

“Sugar is sweet.”

(This never would meet

U.S.D.A. rules,

for label-craved fools.)

“And so are you.”

(A flourish so true

that angelic glee

would surely agree.)

Take each first line

from stanzas assigned

to end with quatrain

of loving refrain.

Or

Think up your own

with lyric home-grown;

a customized slant

like following rant?

Roses are red

and yellow and pink.

If you don't bring flowers

I'll think that you stink.

Violets are blue

or purple sometimes.

If you write me poems

then I prefer rhymes.

Sugar is sweet,

which I quite enjoy,

so candy is dandy

when making your ploy.

“And so are you”

fits oddly, at best,

for opening line

of poetry quest.

Many’s the time

these lines have been used.

Hope that my playing’s

not left them abused.

I’m having fun

to add to the queue

of “Roses are red”

and “Violets are blue”

19
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Write a creative 'Roses are Red' poem. Change it up, make it funny, sad, romantic, scary, etc.! :)
Written by RLW in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Deconstructed Reconstruction



“Roses are red.”
(That’s what the rhyme said,
or rather, it writ
with poetic wit.)

“Violets are blue.”
(Would you pick that too
if yours was the choice
first giving this voice?)

“Sugar is sweet.”
(This never would meet
U.S.D.A. rules,
for label-craved fools.)

“And so are you.”
(A flourish so true
that angelic glee
would surely agree.)

Take each first line
from stanzas assigned
to end with quatrain
of loving refrain.

Or

Think up your own
with lyric home-grown;
a customized slant
like following rant?

Roses are red
and yellow and pink.
If you don't bring flowers
I'll think that you stink.

Violets are blue
or purple sometimes.
If you write me poems
then I prefer rhymes.

Sugar is sweet,
which I quite enjoy,
so candy is dandy
when making your ploy.

“And so are you”
fits oddly, at best,
for opening line
of poetry quest.

Many’s the time
these lines have been used.
Hope that my playing’s
not left them abused.

I’m having fun
to add to the queue
of “Roses are red”
and “Violets are blue”
19
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Describe freedom in 15 words... with one caveat: you can't use the words free, freedom, freeing, freest or freer (even in the title).
Written by RLW

Simple - but not always Easy

Being who God made me to be.

Living to encourage the same in everyone else.

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Describe freedom in 15 words... with one caveat: you can't use the words free, freedom, freeing, freest or freer (even in the title).
Written by RLW
Simple - but not always Easy


Being who God made me to be.
Living to encourage the same in everyone else.
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Write a micro-poem conveying an important opinion or view in as few words as possible.
Written by RLW in portal Micropoetry

Everyone

“Everyone’s got something”

(struggles sight unseen)

Kindness holds the answer

Patience sets the scene

No need for derision

Leave behind disdain

Life will pass much sweeter

Everyone will gain

5
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Write a micro-poem conveying an important opinion or view in as few words as possible.
Written by RLW in portal Micropoetry
Everyone


“Everyone’s got something”
(struggles sight unseen)
Kindness holds the answer
Patience sets the scene
No need for derision
Leave behind disdain
Life will pass much sweeter
Everyone will gain

5
0
5
Juice
37 reads
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Explore the concept of Silence in a poem...
Written by RLW in portal Poetry & Free Verse

She

Every day she waited.

Daybreak beckoned rising, readying for possibilities no eye could see nor ear hear. Not even she might rightly guess at happenings before appointed time.

Routines ran their course within her world. Little plans she’d ventured, thinking out the night before, unfolded one by one, never interrupted by sound of other’s voice.

Though sun blazed overhead, her house rested – quiet, undisturbed – except for dust flecks floated down to settle for the instant she allowed before swift swipe into oblivion.

Tea stood ready. No one came to call.

Evening shadows lengthened, slow to cross a mantle seldom warmed by life or fire.

When nine o’clock struck long and low she switched off lamps and slowly climbed the stairs.

At hall’s end stood a room complete with queen-sized bed. She chose a chair beside instead.

Neighbors bent their heads to sleep at late night hour.

She could not. She waited still.

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Explore the concept of Silence in a poem...
Written by RLW in portal Poetry & Free Verse
She
Every day she waited.

Daybreak beckoned rising, readying for possibilities no eye could see nor ear hear. Not even she might rightly guess at happenings before appointed time.

Routines ran their course within her world. Little plans she’d ventured, thinking out the night before, unfolded one by one, never interrupted by sound of other’s voice.

Though sun blazed overhead, her house rested – quiet, undisturbed – except for dust flecks floated down to settle for the instant she allowed before swift swipe into oblivion.

Tea stood ready. No one came to call.

Evening shadows lengthened, slow to cross a mantle seldom warmed by life or fire.

When nine o’clock struck long and low she switched off lamps and slowly climbed the stairs.

At hall’s end stood a room complete with queen-sized bed. She chose a chair beside instead.

Neighbors bent their heads to sleep at late night hour.

She could not. She waited still.
6
0
9
Juice
39 reads
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Written by RLW

Journeying

turning round all things that should have been

kept collected with long-held belief

scratching dust clouds, blot of inkless pen

wordful ways trussed simple, sans serif

undiscovered junction newly met

(or perhaps deep-buried, still to mine)

bare of perfect ending, does she get

chances still to make the perfect rhyme?

Query: An octet of nine syllables each. Should there be a final lingering line for a different kind of symmetry?

4
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Written by RLW
Journeying



turning round all things that should have been
kept collected with long-held belief
scratching dust clouds, blot of inkless pen
wordful ways trussed simple, sans serif
undiscovered junction newly met
(or perhaps deep-buried, still to mine)
bare of perfect ending, does she get
chances still to make the perfect rhyme?




Query: An octet of nine syllables each. Should there be a final lingering line for a different kind of symmetry?
4
2
3
Juice
30 reads
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