I am the unfulfilled dream,
I am the demon not faced,
I am the speech without a theme,
I am fears you haven’t chased.
The wave lost in an ocean wide,
The seed hiding afraid to grow,
The storm brewing on every side,
The tide feels a great tow.
So see who I am
Your dream will become a reality,
Your demon disappears,
Your words an actuality,
Your strength conquers fears.
The wave will pound the sand,
The seed begins to grow,
The storm will show its hand,
The tide begins to ebb and flow.…
I am your potential—release me.
They tell me when things are done,
But it’s up to me — I’ll take my time;
This control makes me want to run,
It’s up to me — and that’s no crime.
They decide where I must go,
But it’s up to me — I choose my way;
I’ll show them now, I’m set to grow,
It’s up to me — I will not sway.
They say they know it all so well,
But it’s up to me — I can decide;
If I am wrong, I’ll take the fall,
It’s up to me — at least I tried.
They all say I must obey,
But it’s up to me — I will not cave;
No one can make me stay,
It’s up to me — I’m not their slave.
Summer Quatrains – Swap Quatrains 6-19-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Summer Quatrains
Silk ribbons of ice melt into wellsprings
With jubilant serenades, heartfelt,
Frozen heartbeats freed from rime flow on wings
Into wellsprings silk ribbons of ice melt.
The brooding nimbus bows to solstice’ clouds
Dandelion days doze in clover now
As the Dayspring moon chants reveries out loud
To solstice’ clouds the brooding nimbus bows.
The rumpled season rides on wings of change,
Dancing in the ether where dreams abide,
Somersaults o’re a wishing star’s exchange
On wings of change the rumpled season rides.
In summer’s sunlight winter’s rose arises
Past the melancholy veils of dark starlight
Opens silky buds, rapture’s surprises,
Winter’s rose arises in summer sunlight.
1
Earth, Air, Fire, Water I'm Alive
Blood, Sweat, Perseverance, I Thrive
To the Sun, Moon, and Stars I Rise
I Reach, I Breach, In Sync, Divine
2
Thrice in Spirit, Brawn, Steel, Sovereignty
Consciously, Spiritually, Prophecy
Forged like The Potters Clay,
Narrow, Divine, Through The Passage Way
3
Enthralled by The Flow, The Cosmic Giggle Sows
At One, At Peace, Reborn
Astro Turf Surfin, I Ride The Wave
Light Giving, Light Consuming, Light Sage
4
Full Ascent the Mind Soars
Mentally, Physically, Spiritually Heavens Galore,
Beyond The Archway, towards the Golden Gate
Victor, Triumph, Illuminate
Exsanguinating leeches
Rich cream on ripened peaches,
Or Riviera beaches,
tickling the ears it reaches
Exsanguination is to bleed
A practice we no longer need
Now, Coumadin can quickly speed
The death of rats, poison indeed!
Like Sisyphus, his rocky hill
Now Eliquis, without the thrill
For those with fibrillations still
‘Tis clots, not rocks, the bitter pill
So now I think to bleed a leech
Might be a task just out of reach
I do implore, I do beseech
Pin down his arms, grab hold of each!
—————
h/t to Howard Osborne’s INFRA DIG
From A Dream, Three Quatrains Gifted
The Searching
I went forth into the windy forest
Through thistles, thorns and falling day
Crossing umber meadows and flowing stream
Forever seeking that which hath fled away.
The Flying
I went forth into midnight sleeping
From spinning cloud to cloud I fled
Far below, slow breeze comforted Fate
Whilst I slept alone in my bed.
The Denying
I went forth into tomorrow's churnings
As a child lost in the sorrowing haze
The sun there was a ball of distant red
And I, falling into its infinite blaze.
Robert J. Lindley, 4-12-2022
Poetry
Note:
Ok, note becomes the fourth, but definitely was not intended to be..
Thus, editing it now to give it the proper title..
The Understanding
Waking to rise, inking verse to stay afloat
O but a few words to the blue-cast skies
It was Goliath that the flying stone smote
Thus, laying devil low in his flesh-cast disguise…
Note:
"smote"
smite
/smit/
Learn to pronounce
verb
*****past tense: smote*****
1.
LITERARY
strike with a firm blow.
Some folks say I am quite good with words,
But, I hesitate to believe what they say
Should I have hired on with Merriam-Webster?
Or better still, taken a job with Roget?
People who do not particularly like me
Have said that I am quite arrogant,
But the truth is, I would rather think,
That I am exceptionally self-confident!
I try my best to do the right thing,
As I see it, in every situation
But making choices can be very difficult
When they cause me more aggravation.
I get awfully annoyed when folks are late
Why can’t they start out a little earlier?
The longer they tarry, the more PO’d I get,
And, they wonder why I am so much surlier!
Some folks say creative people are sensitive
Even tip-toeing around not to hurt feelings
But everyone is different, as I see it,
Some like the apple, some like the peelings.
Written April 6, 2021
Cement word by word
I connect one idea to another idea
scribble verse with verse
I build a bridge poem ...
I caress my spirit
with words of honey
so poetry always
licks me with candy ...
The verses, all sowing
same as seeds in the field
feather the poem I treat,
best the fruit of poetry ...
Poetry without birds in the field,
without toads and frogs in the pond,
without desert, sand, blood in the vein,
would that be poetry, life ... would it be ...?
I throw a stone, sketch the effort,
I throw a word, absorb the gesture,
I get milk from the stone and as pretext
of this dynamic, dialectical poem I do ...!
Quatrains of Hibernal 2020
By David J Walker
I
The hibernal task of passing a year of Retributions
Scribes of the Anno Mundi write in prose of those who are left behind
Those who did not believe the mask and the lambs' blood
Were one and the same
II
The solution was said to be written on a paper ballot
And the change in the balance of power
would bear salvation to a
nation still divided by dry ideas
III
The joy of the seasons were seen, if at all,
In a black and white rendering
Of the world with faint memory of
Any other color
IV
The end, of course
Would not be the end
But the beginning of an undetermined
Measure of recovery
I love to swap things with my friends.
Today I’ve got a recipe
to offer you. Please send me yours.
Let’s make some “soup” with poetry.
You must have fourteen cups of fresh
strict meter. Just one brand will do;
that’s iambic pentameter.
For spicy sonnet flavor, you
add just a pinch of all of these:
A B A B, C D C D,
E F E F. Stir well before
you add the special spice—G G.
For soup with substance, metaphors,
hyperboles, and similes
add robust taste to sonnet soup.
Add more—whichever ones you please.
Bring to a boil. Then cook on low
to medium two hours. Before
you serve it, taste. Does it taste great—
or not? Does it need something more?
April 28, 2017 entered in Brian Strand's Premier May Contest: 25-line max, any topic or form
May 19, 2022
Poetry Contest: Merger with Food
Sponsor: Natasha L. Scragg
Whenever I see a young man
Proudly made of steel
I wonder at the young woman
Sure to make him kneel
Wherever I hear a young man
Loudly praise his great deal
I ponder if a young woman
Might make much of his meal
Whatever a young man
Gladly claims to bear his seal
I tender that a young woman,
Somehow, had made him real
Whomever would deny
That anything he may feel
Is not without a reply
In the partner at his heel
Is a fool; young man, tenfold.
We each are bound to repeat,
True or false, even the foretold,
Till our lives becomes replete.
One day out in the country I was led
by an old pathway to a hidden place
with honeyed scent from a wild garden bed
where ruffled blooms reached toward the sky with grace.
My spirit lifted too from sheer delight.
Dew glistened on each sweet pea’s pretty head.
How beautiful that scene in sun so bright -
green grass and blossoms in purple and red!
May 28, 2016
I
The winds were loudly whistling,
Blowing the trees’ leaves all around;
God sneezed and misty rain fell to the ground;
In an instant, blades of green grass began to glisten.
II
The lightening choreographed its self
Throughout the air;
In the far distance, the loud thunder
Was heard clashing;
The heavily burdened clouds had taken in
All they could bare…
Suddenly, giant balls of pelting hail began
Their icy trashing…
III
Curious about the rain caused strife,
The sun peeped to investigate;
Unaware—the Devil was beating his wife,
The sun’s concern was a bit too late.
IV
It’s known, rain is no friend to the desert’s growth;
And that floods care less where they might spread.
Such strange fellows are the both;
Happily sharing the same old bed…
Three French quatrains, Translation of Etiemble’s Trois quatrains français by T. Wignesan
Fly …fly !
For Sylvie (Etiemble) on the occasion
of commencing primary school
All cats are school-goers
watching a fly fly
but the teacher caught the fly:
one should seize the collar.
October 1978
1. Narcissus
For Sylvie who came late to the mirror stage,
but who has since made up for it… (1981)
All ducks are Narcissuses
kissing the ends of their beaks.
Comes the solstice’s rigour:
the ice clouds the dry mirror.
2. All ducks are Narcissuses
kissing the ends of their beaks.
Comes the solstice’s rigour:
the silt clouds the dry mirror.
To me, verbal Apology is only inflated pride
The good people don’t call for apologies to deride
Bad people for base vantage may go on their knees
Verbal apology is only inflated pride, to me.
Torment none, repent for past and dread for future
If you think you've erred, make the amends sooner
It is easier to eat crow while it is still warm anon*
Repent for past and dread for future, torment none.
While travelling over the world, a sad truth I’ve found
Those people we’re fond of, their feelings we wound
we flatter those of whom we have hardly heard
A sad truth I’ve found, while travelling over the world.
* Proverb
Inspired by G.K. Chesterton's writings
+++++++++
March 8, 2014
Form : Swap Quatrains
Dr.Ram Mehta
9th Place win
Contest: Swap Quatrains by Andrea
Sub Categories
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.