Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.
in the dead of night
seduced by a false prophet
time’s veil falls again
This is my ode to the horror of the November “fall back” time change. It messes up my sleep and it really does get dark by 4:30pm. ARGGG! Thanks to Yvette and Tanka Tuesday for the inspiration to vent.
I see your face in the morning shadows
your lost voice echoing in the abyss
the memory sharp like a bramble rose
I see your face in the morning shadows
autumn’s gold curves in its final death throes
as fate and the future meet in a kiss
I see your face in the morning shadows
your lost voice echoing in the abyss
Image credit; Adam Bixby @ Unsplash
Both the image and the prompt word (MISS) inspired the same feeling in me: a sense of loss. So, sorry for the melancholy, but I did enjoy the process! Thanks to the following:
Having fun with the Triolet this week. According to
https://bysarahwhiley.wordpress.com/
A Triolet is an 8-line poem where lines repeat in a beautiful rhythm:
Lines 1, 4, and 7 are the same, and lines 2 and 8 are also repeated.
The rhyme scheme looks like this: ABaAabAB (uppercase = repeated lines).
If you’d like to make it a little trickier, try writing each line with 8 syllables (iambic tetrameter, the classic French style) — or challenge yourself with 10 syllables per line (the English version). [I did 10-syllables today.]
strength through unity
ideas arrest injustice
words to remember
when faith in cruelty plagues
resist the urge to escape
Creating a verse for the Sunday Whirl has become my favorite Sunday thing! Thanks.
Waiting for my cue, I practice my smile. It feels wrong. Too forced. Too white against the gray pallor of my skin.
I try to shake off my doubts. I am the heir apparent. It is my heritage.
But some nights it’s too much. It’s like a giant squid has me wrapped in its tentacles. It squeezes and squeezes and whispers “birthright” in my ear, but I don’t feel lucky. I feel like it’s trying to drown me.
But it’s too late for second thoughts. The crowd chants my name as I once again claim my birthright.
(97 Words)
Thanks for the inspiration.
we are the ones that dwell within
watching and waiting for the end
in the dark we witness your sin
we are the ones that dwell within
that burn you feel under your skin
the edge of madness at the bend
we are the ones that dwell within
watching and waiting for the end
I enjoyed creating a triolet earlier this week for the w3 prompt, so I did it again. But this time I went with the 8-syllable version and leaned into the SPOOKY. Thanks for the added inspiration to Esther (EDGE) and dVerse poets (we are the ones that dwell within). See below for info on Triolets.
According to Sarah Whiley …
A Triolet is an 8-line poem where lines repeat in a beautiful rhythm:
Lines 1, 4, and 7 are the same, and lines 2 and 8 are also repeated.
The rhyme scheme looks like this: ABaAabAB (uppercase = repeated lines).
If you’d like to make it a little trickier, try writing each line with 8 syllables (iambic tetrameter, the classic French style) — or challenge yourself with 10 syllables per line (the English version).
Tina Stewart Brakebill 