This just in, we are long drawn out drab sentences of our breath,
trying to base a topic off epiphany's languid scry, waiting on osmosis to spark a nerve.
Crinkled pages, termites gnawing on pencils, saw dust.
Failed improvs to deliver colloquial precedence, un performed characters with ventriloquist strings for livelihood, the presentation uncanny to scintillating epitomes.
Group 2, line one, drawing a line in the sand. Out of the blue sparks a Big Bang, a flash of genius, a flicker of brilliance in a nano second, staged to theatrical dreams of sun dance wins.
Then there is me, clapping my hands in silenced tongue, speechless with hesitation in my thoughts, smoking in the after burn of rust, only the mind would know what to say left in the smoke clouds of their creation.
I've got nothing, quick sand running through my fingers like vapors in edgewise, and while I am still just breathing they just are, encircling around me like a shooting star.
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.