~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
dry twig snaps beneath my feet~
solemn punctuation
in this vaulted nave of oak and cedars.
the canopy exhales:
My hollowed trunk shelters nesting wrens,
my frost-etched rings remember drought,
my roots taste the buried stream's cool pulse.
I tilt my head—a supplicant—
as bark breathes against my palm.
the oldest oak leans close whispering:
Child, stillness is the first consonant.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
dry twig snaps beneath my boot~
solemn punctuation
in this vaulted nave of oak and cedars.
the canopy exhales:
My hollowed trunk shelters nesting wrens;
my frost-etched rings remember drought;
my roots taste the buried stream's cool pulse.
I tilt my head—a supplicant~
as bark breathes against my palm.
the oldest oak leans close:
Child, stillness is the first consonant.
Put on word welfare by the poet gods
They've rationed my "Inspired Insanity"
No one could ever calculate the odds
This blatant act of inhumanity
No longer can I find words to describe
Blue eyes that generate a winning smile
Condemned, left with my profane diatribe
And sentenced as a poet with no style
Yet I am not that easily deterred
My simple lexicon is not a curse
There are so many meanings for one word
This poet still can write a simple verse
It will be rough but surely I'll make do
I might just borrow words from some of you.
Daniel Turner
Book of Breathings
David J Walker
Cruel clock
Supernatural sail
A false friend
in the wind
blending in
To a breeze
at the speed
Of a whirlwind
Tell me again
about your tomorrow
the sorrow comes with the dawn
in time to
Borrow phrases
from the model
of an avant-garde lexicon
Carved by men in caves
Painted in pen
In the
Book of Breathings
before we are gone
and gravity claims us all
I asked
what do you do for a living
and there was silence
I asked again
socially
just to fill the empty spaces
this time to find a silence
before he said
*********** with a pause
child ***********
do you mind.
Once painting a house
in trade for a much appreciated car
I pulled a bed out
to discover
soft
padded
metal rings
chained on every corner
what are these I asked
not socially for I was really curious
I didn’t need to know he told me
hiding his padded handcuffs
deep under the covers.
Walking home one night
I found myself yelling foul mouthed
fear filled obscenities
at two laughing boys
as they ran their car straight at me
no deviation, no variation in line
just the screech of the oil pan
the spray of hot oil
hissing onto the street
as it hit the tall curb.
not thinking
they meant to kill me
not thinking of pain
not thinking of deviations
or small deaths
some days my naiveté’s frighten me
if I have the words.
* the vocabulary of a particular social class, language, social class….
I make myself
probing being
and find world as life’s dictionary
-January 17, 2019 Chattogram
Come sit with me
As muse moves writes,
Truth and beauty
Frame words I cite.
Amuse my mind
As heart fronts feel,
Abide deep finds
As words can heal.
Come let me know
A certain way,
Cast and face show
Poise in fond play.
A touch sums lot
In succinct proof,
Feel flavours thought
In plain old truth.
Come to my aid
Dear soul unseen,
Words do get paid
From chimes within.
Align my heart
To cherish soul,
Word sculptures art
In a warm whole.
Come be my guest
As wordplay brisk,
Prize in full fest
Is nicely crisp.
Attest due rhymes
In sensuous brief,
Adjust to chimes
Through joy and grief.
Come let us see
The poise of choice,
Words in clear spree
Can channel voice.
Abide deep grace
As seasons change,
Watch time and space
Echo new range.
Leon Enriquez
23 June 2018
Hamlet Place, ACT
"You must increase your lexicon"-
I told my wife. She answered-"Yes!"
And soon she added a silicon,
To her enormous breasts.
Words have shallow meanings
Skimmed from the alien pool
Where aliens keep spitt of tongue
These borrowed syllables are not of my tongue
The taste was chewed from them long ago
So yearning to recover my voice
In words ancient as Methusalah
And sacred before thee conquistadores came
Must soak them in old images
That structure sentences a new way
Using punctuation like the end of a line
To make thee broken all the sense
And yet come to a meaning continuous
Where the punctuation pauses
If you are lazy, I do not think you shall enjoy me
I write from a double intellect
It is a political condition of my defect
Deep down and rumbling for attention
Have you seen what is coming to our lives?
A veritable cornucopia
of delights
Angels of all kinds
Kings
Queens
Dancers, acrobats, performers
If life asks you to be happy
then be happy!
A lexicon of delight
Awaits you at the
end of the road
a grey sky
can never destroy
the sunlight within
With the glut of sounds fixed within the book of expressions
I cause the dearth in mine carve ‘pon slip for the eager to ponder
A poet compelled yet tactful with scribe as a view thru scrim
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.