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Profile avatar image for Freetobeme
Freetobeme in Poetry & Free Verse
• 22 reads

She is Poetic Form

She dances like long form prose. Lips soft as a sonnet, her locks of hair flow like free verse, lingering sweet poetry. She has rhythm, such rhyme, limerick, beautiful haiku.

Her soft voice speaks in ballad, ode, softly singing lyrical into your ear. She writes in blank verse with lambic pentameter, each of her stanzas flowing like an epic river.

Couplet, villanelle, and cinquain. She loves writing words of all kinds, one's that will bring you harmony, like acrostic, sestina while waiting for someone to read her quatrain.

She will love you like a narrative, an epigram. Her heart is filled with notebooks filled with words kept together like crumbled paper.

When she leaves this earth, mourning, loss, and reflection. She reads her elegy aloud from above ~ redemption isn't dead, each word written and read is still alive like soliloquy.

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Challenge
Fun with Forms #3: The Ottava Rima (level 1)
The OTTAVA RIMA (rhyme of eight) is an old Italian poetry form, dating back to the 13th century. The form is fairly simple, and consists of 8-line verses (or octaves). For this challenge, each line should be made of 8 syllables, with a verse rhyme scheme of: [a b a b a b c c]. (For the purists, you can use iambic tetrameter, but any 8 syllables will work). Create as many octaves as you wish. — Example here: https://theprose.com/post/737881/morning-flight — (Please tag me in the comments of your entry)
Cover image for post Self-inflicted , by Mariah
Profile avatar image for Mariah
Mariah in Poetry & Free Verse
• 29 reads

Self-inflicted

An autodidact in self-harm,

she gets hopes up, smitten, blushing.

Though not for her, she'll crave his charm.

His deflection-- cold, crushing.

She hates herself, her unchecked smarm.

Alarms and flags-- they mean nothing.

She'll run straight to, all good sense fled,

when they're her preferred color… red.

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ts735b in Poetry & Free Verse
• 5 reads

Mine gerund farming, tilling, and harvesting illogical weltanschauung

Twas accursed destiny

since birth (maybe coded in

deoxyribonucleic acid

since time immemorial) alas and alack

nascent emasculation abominable barrack

emergent deus ex machina,

one common Joe biden his time

for no particular

rhyme nor reason

revisiting mine days of yore,

when protectiveness courtesy

older sibling come

from behind ruthless counterattack.

All equivocation aside,

she/her thirteen plus months

and twelve days

constituted chronological senior gap

eldest sister struck like diamondback

against bullies who targeted me

as a poor defenseless “scape goat”

surrogate "mother" role

assumed tubby exact

protectorate viz pseudo fullback

against cruel foo fighting beastie boys

hurling black barbs

firing verbal slings and arrows.

Escapist exploits to cope

being brutalized, and traumatized

synonymous when Brian Williams,

(not the newscaster,

but neighborhood school chum,

who shared same namesake)

we imagined ourselves

courageous dauntless explorers

while toying with his beebee gun.

Mein kampf one after another

against relentless barrage of flak

comeuppance effected giveback

pummeling spongiform mine

now sixty plus shades gray matter

fisticuffs sister didst highjack

proxy mated mothering

kept corporeal essence intact

jilting nefarious nemesis aligned

jumpstarting, maligning, and stalking.

This fee-fi-fo-fum

bling ordinary bean sized Jack

err runt (arrant) cowardly

(fee lion) dorky and nerdy lad

owning nada knick knack

paddy whack give my dog a bone

a fide scaredy cat,

he/him an aging baby boomer

older married chap doth adumbrate

satisfactory accomplishments lack

king, where crazy

quilt aimless wandering

described purposeless multitrack

thus, sympathetic, and empathetic

to hue men/women nonblack

or decimated aborigines

once populating Australian outback

existential nihilism would,

undergirding hypothetical

unwritten paperback

with little need to prevaricate,

nor appear as quack

pot, one measly Homo sapiens,

who accrued millennial

palimpsest gestalt zeitgeist

where, punctured, and zapped

disequilibrium created

psyche dust rack

asper protean (in utero)

multitudinous setback

soundlessly resonating

with concussive thwack

as this rickety ship of state

(never confused as fêted junket)

unwanted emotional ballast to unpack

asseveration, asper assiduously

preferably welcoming

dry suction no vac

jarring this pawn (knight wannabe

in his bishop rick) torrid

me psychological wrack

king within (castle keep)

complex edifice shackled

in dungeon with repast constituting

present day long winded conversations,

where she volubly talk yakety yak.

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ts735b in Poetry & Free Verse
• 8 reads

Elusive ephemeral ethereal expansiveness eye (I) witness timelessness

Analogous to Möbius strip -

measured passage of existence

seems to defy any beginning or end

(unless Artificial Intelligence

supersedes developers smarts

of computer technology

evincing brain power

designing sophisticated machines

that enslave their creators)

incorporating figurative

uber plug n play

genetic material imperceptibly

becoming modified to offer

advantageous lyft to maneuver

weathering adverse circumstances

which series of unfortunate events

proffered entry point

for Lemony Snicket

an underappreciated character

only took precedence

with Homo sapiens ascendent

bursting forth upon

the figurative pedestal

presiding over domain,

sans Earthly covenant

a bajillion ago,

where fits and starts

pitted proto humans

at no immediate advantage,

yet merely, thru

dint of accidental

happenstance ever so

imperceptibly amassed dominion

over every other species

cue Homo erectus

an extinct species

of archaic human

from the Pleistocene,

with its earliest occurrence

about two million years ago,

specimens among the first

recognizable members

of the genus Homo

as became evident

throughout the vast sweep of

anthropological

evolutionary incidental

plucky perturbations, provocations,

and/or pullulations arisen by

spontaneous circumstantial grant

ting quasi consciously

coalescing into nasty,

short and brutish bipedal hominids

deliberated focused intent,

where forethought

co-opted indiscriminate

chance facilitating kent -

state manifested rubber

baby buggy bumpers

activated, aggrandized, and

allotted destiny meant

to lurch incrementally

i.e. hierarchical designation

present day primate

predecessors practiced negligible

fletched, notched, and

worsted nimbleness orchestrated

(equal parts gall and genetic

giftedness), whatsapp operant

adaptation toward

survival rippled quiescent lyft

minutely nudging overt salient

traits ineluctably

manifesting, outflanking,

and proffering

quintessential urgent

biological scrimmage quietly testing,

and wrestling, whence yen

(to secure rootedness

favoring survival of the fittest)

zeroing what didst warrant

winning formula

to adapt adroit edge

pitted by dictates of nature

grappling iron

grip, viz literal hedge

fund and kickstarting toehold

upon tenuous ledge

(oft times succumbing to danger)

falling into abyss

of anonymity pledge

kindled acquired innovative tool

such as a primitive sledge

hammer instinctively

resigning animal instinct

death be not proud not

before inculcating

survivalist tactical wedge.

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Challenge
Fun with Forms #2: The Awdl Gywydd (level 2)
The AWDL GYWYDD (OW-dull GOW-with) is an old Welsh poetry form that combines simple syllable counts, with internally linked rhymes. Each verse is built of four 7-syllable lines, with a rhyme scheme of a, (a)b, c, (c)b. The internal rhyme can occur on syllable 3 or 4. - Here is a sample: https://theprose.com/post/182706/sweet-recollections (Please tag me in the comments of your entry)
Profile avatar image for markysparky
markysparky in Poetry & Free Verse
• 52 reads

The Dragon’s Son

The fading fire of a dream

It would seem could blaze anew

In the hearts of beaten men.

Prophets again spoke words true

Of a son of the dragon

Who would gladden and inspire

And rouse the people from sleep,

No longer sheep. Filled with ire

They sharpened sword axe and spear,

For ’twas clear the hour had come

Of the once and future king.

Bards would sing and beat the drum,

Pluck the harp and trumpet sound,

Declare found the anointed,

The one who would wear the crown,

Bringing down disappointed

The servant of the false king.

They would bring the captive lord

Before his throne. ’Hail Owain!

For ’tis plain steel’s in thy sword

My warriors thou didst route:

Without doubt you are the One

Whom God has blessed. Noble heir

Of Arthur’s chair, thou hast won!’

Thus Mortimer bent the knee

That all might see foe made friend.

Bolingbroke quaked, and fear felt:

This friendship spelt his near end.

Unless…Was hope to be found

In one who clowned with Sir John?

Could Hal a soldier become

And find wisdom yet, newborn?

Mortimer, Lord Percy too,

Henry knew, could spell his doom.

If with the Welsh they joined arms,

With what charms could England bloom?

So Shrewsbury, it was to be

Where Destiny played His part.

Hal met Hotspur, won the day,

And thus the play found its heart.

Not Cymru’s bards, but Avon’s:

The ravens, alas, are black,

And bleak the outcome for Wales,

Though the tales will e’er come back

To keep the fire of a dream

Alive. A gleam of maybe

Of a once and future king

Still we sing, yearn: to be free.

Commentary:

A slice of history… In the 13th century, Welsh independence came to an end, with the conquests of Edward I of England. Over a century later, in 1399, Henry Bolingbroke became King of England, overthrowing Richard II, and reigning as Henry IV. Bolingbroke’s claim to the throne was tenuous; and many of the English and Welsh lords regarded him, with some justification, as a usurper. In 1400, Owain Glyndŵr, a Welsh lord, a descendant of several Welsh royal dynasties, and a supporter of Richard II, quarrelled with a Bolingbroke loyalist, his neighbour Baron Grey of Ruthin. Glyndŵr’s grievances were ignored by the English parliament, and led him into open revolt, declaring himself the true Prince of Wales. The revolt spread quickly, and Welsh bards viewed him as heir to the legacy of King Arthur (the Once and Future King of prophecy) and the pre-Conquest princes of Wales.

Early Welsh successes included the Battle of Pilleth in mid-Wales in 1402, at which the English lord Edward Mortimer, one of the most powerful of the English barons, was captured. Mortimer changed allegiance, and entered into an alliance with Glyndŵr, as did Lord Percy, the Earl of Northumberland, the most powerful northern English Lord. The three allies agreed to divide England and Wales between them (the so-called Tripartite Alliance): Percy would rule in the North, Mortimer in the South, and Glyndŵr in Wales and the Welsh Marches. The political situation was grim for Henry IV. However, his son Prince Hal (the future Henry V), despite having spent his younger years as an impressionable and dissolute wastrel under the influence of Sir John Falstaff, turned out to be an excellent field commander. He defeated and killed Henry Hotspur (the son of Lord Percy) at the Battle of Shrewsbury in 1405, preventing the three opposing armies from joining up, and turning the tide against the rebellion.

Despite having lost his English allies, and having seen with the support he’d garnered from the French also coming to naught, Glyndŵr continued the rebellion for more than a decade, establishing a Welsh parliament, and making plans for the first Welsh university: but eventually the English crown regained control of Wales. An outlaw and a fugitive, Glyndŵr refused the offer of a royal pardon after the rebellion had finally collapsed. His date of death and exact burial place remained unknown: like Arthur before him, Owain Glyndŵr became a figure of legend. Yet the dream of Welsh independence he had rekindled never entirely died. Welsh nationhood, and the survival of Welsh culture and language to the present time, owes more to him than perhaps any other individual.

As for ‘the Bard of Avon’: William Shakespeare gives Glyndŵr a small role in his Henry IV: Part One. Together with Richard II, Henry IV: Part Two and Henry V, these history plays tell (from the English perspective, almost two centuries later) the story of the events leading up to and in consequence of Henry Bolingbrook’s usurpation of the English throne.

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Profile avatar image for Freetobeme
Freetobeme in Poetry & Free Verse
• 19 reads

I too, am human

I'll probably never hold you just right when you need it the most. I'll probably never kiss you like I should when the time calls for it. I'll probably never say your name the way you whisper mine, but I'll try. I am flawed, but in the most honest form. Love has shaped me and cut into my bones, so I will try to be all of what has never been given to you in your life. I promise you I will try harder than the ones before me. You not only deserve it, you encompass all things I've never had the honor of knowing. You are unique beyond description. You are masterfully handmade from a single star. One that I wished upon before my body knew my name. It's been you, and will always be you who I open and close my eyes to see. No matter if the night tries to take you away from me. No matter how far the distance is between our fingertips, I will give you the parts of me that have been hiding patiently waiting for someone to finally recognize I too, am human.

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Profile avatar image for Freetobeme
Freetobeme in Poetry & Free Verse
• 9 reads

I Hope this isn’t too Late

One of these days, I'm going to find you before it's too late, with a thousand smiles and full reverie. You've been in my dreams for years now, a constant delight to hold when alone is all I've known these past few lifetimes I've lived. I want to know how the Sun looks on you and how the moon looks in your eyes at twilight. I want to watch you in your garden and learn your hands better, as they move for the things they love. I hope it's not too late to love you, and maybe love isn't enough to make a reality out of such things. What sweet torture it is to know you exist here with me, yet I have not felt a single breath of you fall so softly on my shoulders of which I have never carried a queen like you. I guess in moments of despair, we all wish and hope for what we want and need to find us, to hold us all the same. I hope this isn't too late.

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Profile avatar image for Freetobeme
Freetobeme in Poetry & Free Verse
• 17 reads

Each Key Punched

I can feel you beside me, watching each key punched and each word revealed to see your eyes, lips, and body become its structure. A daring and darling muse you are, keeping me from falling further into my own negative thoughts and closer to the reassuring energy you are. I've never met you, but feel you as close as my shadow knows me. I can smell the spring in your hair as you tend to lay amongst the flowers when you're in need of recharging and calm. A kindred spirit you are, existing within reality where I am without you, but never far away. Your closeness is the beating heart inside the core of the earth, and mine is breaking through my goddamn chest to get to you, I know I could close my eyes for this lifetime and still find my way to you. Something I shouldn't do, but wanderers like me all have a home they are trying to get to.

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Profile avatar image for Freetobeme
Freetobeme in Poetry & Free Verse
• 9 reads

Breathing life into the Sea

She tries so hard to make ends meet. It almost seems like nothing will ever fall into place. But it doesn't deter her from being who she needs to be for those around her. There's something special about her and how she continues on against the onslaught of negativity she faces. In her world, the cape never comes off. She always gets what she wants, because that's just who she is. Do not talk down to her when speaking about life and love. She's experienced both more than you've had heartbeats. It's all about balance, and that means making sure her glass is always full. If you have a reason for not believing in her, you'll regret it. You see, not everyone can swim underwater while breathing life into the sea.

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ts735b in Poetry & Free Verse
• 8 reads

Memorial Day May 29th, 2023

Enshrined for all posterity

mine benediction for reverence,

whereby conflict resolution

ameliorated courtesy peaceable solutions.

An adulation, concatenation, encapsulation,

gratification, introspection, et cetera

encompassing poignant episodes of mein kampf.

Flagrante delict adulterous sordid behavior

automatically linkedin with Lothario;

an unscrupulous seducer of women,

based upon a character

in The Impertinent Curious Man,

a story within a story

in Miguel de Cervantes'

1605 novel, Don Quixote.

Hard to fathom where yours truly

got (seedy – CD) drive and moxie,

after willingly assenting

to pledge sacred marital agreement

courtesy justice of the peace

and Magisterial District Judge:

Henry Schireson

925 Montgomery Avenue,

Suite 100, Narberth, Pennsylvania

19072-1913.

He subsequently and immediately

pronounced myself and the missus

as newlywed groom and bride

freshly minted husband and wife

July twenty fifth nineteen ninety six

until death do us part.

A couple years later,

we acquired our first computer

then snazzy top of the line

state of the art COMPAQ presario

running on Windows 98 operating system,

a belated wedding anniversary present,

whereat wide-eyed, I quickly disc hoovered

plethora pornographic websites

expending energy and time crafting

which hashtagged electronic ejaculations recognized

now as crude sexually explicit

classified personal advertisements

forsaking welfare of marriage and fatherhood

to mine innocent beautiful two little girls.

I blatantly, egregiously, indiscriminately...

whiled away hours shucking off

essentially grievously ignoring

paternal and husbandly duties

instead prioritizing re: cultivating,

cavorting, frolicking, inviting...

romantic (née dangerous) liaisons.

These days majority of time spent online

constitutes crafting anecdotes of mein kampf,

albeit reflecting categorically imponderable poetry

and/or stream of consciousness prose

veritable anonymous readers

probably roll their eyes

at mine trademark double entendre,

yet bard arse (with shaky spear) knows

how inapropos I consider ogling attractive girls

for instance while grocery shopping

with the missus at Trader Joe's,

nevertheless job of this punster

his wordplay accidentally doth impose

so please pardon moi harmless

momentary lapse of rhymed reason

as mine handy dandy

blue veined ribbed slimy fleshy hose

does double duty in tandem with magic wand,

lifelike snaky entity that actually grows

particularly necessary when

burst of fiery secretion flows

intense spray powerful enough

to pulverize knees and elbows

subsequently witnessing yours truly to doze,

an ideal juncture to figuratively close

silently wailing analogy to Moby Dick

regarding how yesterdays

prurient laced introductions

to rhyme in retrospect embarrassingly blows.

Herewith to enliven anecdote ever further,

I inject humorous tidbit

just gimme moment to unload and reach

into psychological metaphorical knapsack

particularly blue slimy hose, my keepsake

to forcibly remove dingleberries

birthed courtesy emergency pit stop

without means and ways to clean derriere,

a feeble and futile attempt.

Haint no fallacy

yours truly subsequently secured

more powerful giant accouterment,

while clinging for dear life

perched atop ledger

or edge er domain of clawfoot bathtub,

(ah how convenient and timely

smallish size Jacuzzi getup to appear)

and lemme figuratively

continue (closing) pathetic riffraff

(apropos of nothing) riffling around

mostly strewn with random tchotchkes

and odd bubba's zayda's knickknack

such as ahh... look here hocked wares,

acquired ready to receive paddywhack

giving dog(gerel) bonafied chops.

Without warning be alert

and on outlook for non sequitur

verses asinine blather to blurt

plus quite juvenile grown man here

averse to prick thought processes of her/him

who might peruse frivolous inane gibberish

cuz precious effort ye exert

to comprehend written contents

alluding to metaphorical little squirt.

I chose to memorialize, alas and alack

atypical/unusual fond memory -

argh, a sudden nostalgia attack

many... countless years gone back

livingsocial at 324 Level Road,

elapsed good times, I can never buyback

Gambone builders demolished complex edifice

currently repurposed mansion manse courtesy

vinyl city as Stella's Way

boyhood address above,

frequently seen dramatically transformed

into aforementioned place name, which property

originally christened Glen Elm,

(within national registries)

yours truly cannot easily callback.

Noggin houses storied detailed information

though I experience exercise in futility

searching Internet, said webbed wide world

absent information when Leipers lived

circa early nineteen hundreds, though

if mine perchance eyes espied absent estate...

slack jawed stare would repeatedly

sow sadness weighing me heart

heavy as coalsack

accompanying sorrow with

attendant flood of tears,

would make an immediate comeback

impossible mission to stopper

feeble, futile and lame counterattack,

where sentimental reverie would

carry me far away to Old Virginny,

for no particular rhyme nor reason

e'en attempting to write

recollections might trigger

tsunami immanent grievous childhood memories

recollecting watching silent home movies,

while chomping on crackerjack

when I had real teeth,

boot the Missus axed me to enliven herself

regaling humorous instances, thus I cutback

to... hardy potty times, the major drawback

x amount of time elapsed

summoning special occasions

(surgeon general's warning

such mental revisitations)

fraught with onset, where perilous flashback

will moost likely

violently grip cerebral cortex

analogous to puny chap (me)

knocked unconscious courtesy

searingly robust fullback,

nevertheless impossible mission

to restrain waterworks I intend to hijack,

and hoop fully succeed tamping tears

strong suggestion as encouraged by hunchback

from Notre Dame Dublin

known within these neck of woods

as storied Paul Bunyan

also alias Philanderer,

(especially among superficially

prim and proper, but

actually debauched women folk),

whose services regarding payback

best abide, adhere, and afford

to pay forward credo fore playbook.

Said burly lumberjack with severe scoliosis,

nonetheless quite self evident

his outsize implement,

(ye need not axe further questions)

extinguishing problematic residue

iterated further within mine playful ramble.

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