Kate: "shall not, so sorry, these fickle few are not a flurry of blurry forms, they art and science like dogs turned wolfish then mourn."
Lucifer: "Instead, let feathers begin the bedtime songs, these others accrued have gone terribly wrong."
Zeus: " I don't believe I have the time, to play that instrument like "catcher in the rye" I have though too many half steps onward still the haunting glow, the louder trill."
Lucifer: "In step with the devil dog, the hellhounds of march release ides aflurry and we sent through the arch, a mcgolden apple that pied that sky, and asked for new curtains to blot out a liar."
Zeus: "Have that too, we can't hide all the gold and silver in a mountainous shoe, those slurs are forlorn, their jokes are depressed, they haven't new schools to teach them any better."
Lucifer: "Is it a liar, isn't it born of fire, how does the ode to that compare to the fires?"
---End of act V---
Taken in an instant
Image cleft of line
Clearer in a distance
Dearer left with mine
Border for a brazen
Center with an aim
Backdrop in a feeble
Ache in arch a name
Reflex with a ransom
Ever in the more
Constant in a settle
Less for set at score
Marker with a story
Dates at long to here
Shade to cast in every
Return in rest of dear
Always with an easy
Calm in kept to view
Next to now a distance
Yields to fields in true
The humble arch, so simple, so profound, so powerful
The arch is Pi in the sky, a curved concrete crescent
Supporting span of bridge or lintel
Inspired by rainbow, waxing and waning moon
Instilled by foot arch, caterary chain suspended
Upper segment of circle, Pi with curved bowed legs.
Compress concrete crush resolves, eliminates tension.
Keystone at apex of arch locks stack array of blocks
With Roman arch a symbol, old concept straggling time
Poetry in Mind
These lines from budding poet; look you!
They build in me a phantom castle,
Chosen words to each other a buttress,
A linking arch, a quoin of meaning,
Picking out the eternal essence of life.
Mark how this phrase prepares the way
For another; one word pregnant with memory
Giving birth to another with equal claim
To my inspection; cadences of phrase and
Verse nurturing my emotions in their turn
This word is the key to childhood,
Unlocking dusty rooms of my mind, stirring
Clouds of the past that settle, revealing
Doors that open into the present moment,
In anticipation of new memories, future promise.
That word sings to me, like music
Insinuating itself into the depths of my
Mind; into the lacy web of connections
Between cells, where it finds electrochemical resonance,
Songline to my being, cantata of joy.
Look you! Listen to the poet’s voice,
Hear their wisdom, read their flowing lines;
Let them seep into the very fabric
Of your mind, there to shape you
And give expression to sadness and joy.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.