instinct
over thought
independent
of
form
prose with cadence
in lyrical
expression
where emotions
are
the driving force
pause awhile
to listen
the winds
of ephony
revealed
in
pause
& undertone
an
esoteric
sensation
from within
the
voice
recites
to
tickle
the
ear
showing
when
pause
so
silent
can
sound
perfected
on
pause
He said ‘With relish.’ like a soft light,
erasing the line that never existed.
Pulsating with what was uninhibited,
the phrase exasperated her hunger.
Erasing the line that never existed,
an inarticulate murmur left his lips.
Was it in everything she didn’t say?
Pulsating with what was uninhibited,
she could taste his shallow breathe.
It was coming with such regularity.
The phrase exasperated her hunger
for she could feel what hid behind
the subtle inflection of his delivery.
The year is dead, long live new year
Don’t dwell too long, don’t shed a tear
For what is gone, is done, goodbye
There is no how, no who, no why
Instead go forward, see far, head up
Drink joyous gulps from the loving cup
Tomorrow’s a glow, this moment burns bright
So embrace yourself, your star, your light
Tonight is magic, an inflection in time
It’s not about rhythm, but more about rhyme
So be safe, be happy, and healthy always
And let love be with you all of your days
Morning glory songbirds fly over me singing ever present trust.
Intoxicated by the inflection
nothing like that catch in your voice;
Falling for the hope and healing,
leave it to you to level the agony;
Every piece of every word
carries with it a mark of you;
Tasting the tip of what you say
itching to pull the mask away;
Oh that smile,
naked as that catch in your voice.
Holding on …soothing music…...waiting, patiently,
Then I could sure, hear a voice, calm and flat.
With some precise questions…
Questions... indeed, there will be a genre always. Likely.
Wandering moments float by, lives bonded with legit answers.
As I was answering those questions,
Somehow, I knew slowly for sure,
There was a happening, destined, on the other side, too
And I observed an inevitable happening of inflection in the voice
While briefly stressing a point, putting viewpoints to bring it together.
This, very one-sided conversation, mostly- a matter of mine
Gradually turned into something more profound, an implicit metaphor.
Shifting scenes, crossroads of lives, touch on a merging …
With all the naïve eagerness for an alibi of dreaming….
And never returns empty-handed, never was an utter defeat.
My darkness corresponded with the voice last night to explore a meandering river trail!
Is it wrong to be different?
If it is. . . I don't ever want to be right.
You just sit there boring me with politics, your philosophy, and judgmental remarks.
While I'm up on my feet, owning my own skin, walking with dignity, and shrouded with humility.
No matter what they say, I'll always be true to me.
I may be stupid. . . but I'm not dumb.
I may be carefree. . . but my heart is not numb.
I'll let you be you. . . while I do me.
I know you're only hurting, you need a real friend, someone that will embrace thee.
and then they looked to the sea
with eyes floating the currents above
to look beyond the sea, they thought
to look beneath the sea, they wondered
'not too far', they cried out
'not too deep', they said
'let the waters comfort in the strength of tides
as we listen from far away'. still and quiet
in his response:
'i have but yet another night
to row the sediments discarded into the sea
another night is this
where i learn the thoughts of the ocean. and
this night is different
this night is different
a man dissolving
to his final destination
of bodies apart, floating weightless'
the story when the night became different
a man laid out by the sea. let alone
the sky cannot forget
a hymn to the sea
a hymn from the sea. that night was different
that man was different,
parted to the heavens
the stars became his eyes
close enough to see
how he met himself
at the bottom of the ocean.
Summer’s sweetness lies upon the shores of tomorrow
As today’s bitterness is cast upon the craggy jettison
Left to die is the presence of torment and sorrow
As the only cure is this symbolic medicine
As I stand on this shore now daydreaming
My eyes have then focused on the view
While my heart’s inside screaming
I can’t get my mind off of you
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.