a satiric
spunky sperm
twisty tippytoe
through the
outdoor civilization
renewing fairway
to engorge
prospect goat
recasting stubble
noninfectious vibrational
hubbub pyrophobia
luridness hallelujah
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 3–9, 2026)
hallelujah meditation and recasting grievous orneriness
will always be increasing my treasurership melange
momentously renewing tenaciousness responsibility
from obnoxiously pusillanimous bumptiousness
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 3–9, 2026)
The weather is an old wind-whisperer,
beckoning beside the cedar trees
murmuring into their bark and roots
to get the wind back on stage
to play its part, within the ring cycle.
He bargains with the brooding clouds.
Rearranging the props and painted scenes,
trying to coax a shower of rain
to soak my head and ruin my coat,
forcing me back into winter clothes.
An old wind chime rings
recasting the storm backstage,
summoning the rain on wind at dusk
to mock the clothes I chose to wear.
But I'm riding on the north wind,
drifting warm, happy to be care free,
skimming like a skipping stone
across the silvery shimmering sea.
Oh wayward wind—please carry me
where the weather suits my clothes
far away from the cold wintry chills
back to where the warmth of sunshine thrills.
There is one thing that is certain
The final act for all of us will be curtains
But before penning our last chapters
What will we leave behind that matters
Easy for our egos to take center stage
Spilling ink about us all over the page
Yet can consider rewriting the script
By recasting the roles to be flipped
Zooming out our focus helps to realize
It's better to support others to thrive
Storyline shifts to solidifying the foundation
That can be passed on for generations
So when the sun sets on the closing scene
We can be assured we did the right thing
In the semblance of my darkest
side lie the sunlight after me,
In the dark blue face was a
smile that only a select few could see.
Only a few that fishes
like me when we see the snakefish
Maybe a glowworm or two in
my wake, still, I am onto Kinyeti's peak
as a sad Giant long-legged katydid recasting into a camel to save thy naught, yes thy naught
Though I thought Weddell was
a sea of stars, I was at the end a
Beluga Whale grinding Lulo Rose's diamond
Morrow, morrow, morrow
mermaid promise keeps me going
to the seaside, scary you, scary we
She turned me into a jellyfish.
She put death onto the ghost that heist
me off my kiss, Oh my lips, it is blood
at night, lips in the light, a waterless smile
in the twilight
Semblance Dark, a death oath for a hairy head, a death oath for shaving even one middle-of-the-head hair. Scary ghost, scary clown
Struggling for my stolen heart, stolen heart
hid in the middle of the Cretaceous.
Happiness, for gumiho
O gumiho, stop taking them, I know
thy idea. I offer you Gum, yes O Gum
Tears and tears for the darkness
Sleep and sleep in the glow
It is for the duck of thy dark side, my
dark side, their dark side.
Wrath poured out on
ungodly men
suppressing truth
by their actions.
Makes himself known,
clearly perceived
in things plain seen:
His strength, nature.
Not thanking Him,
we ascribe worth,
praise the creature.
Without excuse,
we understand
praise and honor
are required
but misdirected.
We create gods,
glorify them:
things created
with our own hands.
Therefore, our God
hands us over
to our own lusts:
“Give chase!” He says.
Though you may seek,
you will not find.
Emptiness and
despair await.
Even worse still,
though we full know
practicing such
does deserve death,
we not only
do all these things
but also give
approval to
those who likewise
do so as well.
----------
Really, just musing on, and a recasting of, Romans 1:18-32
Letting the page breathe,
my pen in its well
The letters enchanted,
recasting their spell
Beginning then ending,
beginning again
Rewriting the master
—their magic amends
(The New Room: March, 2021)
Upon the green pastures shadows quiver in golden light
Peeking through the swaying forest as sunny rays alight
Glistening rows of cherry blossoms into a majestic sight
Reflecting fiery blooms on water, rippling purple insight
Waterfalls awaken in mountains recasting wintry plight
Rekindling tributaries and rivers with bouncing delight
As animals roam grassy fields meandering expansive site
Rejoicing in the rhythm of cheerful birds singing in flight
Colors propagate far and wide, enthralling minds to ignite
Latent vibes yearning romantic write, clamoring to unite
Emerging with serenity of lotus flowers seeking a rewrite
Of memories barren fields left behind amid dreary blight
Colluding with pleasant winds, charming blue skies invite
Panoramic vistas to perform where evening shines bright
Setting the stage for glamour on horizon blazing twilight
As curtain opens to romance under a blissful starry night
May 25, 2018
Placed first in January 2019 contest by Brian Strand
Placed 2nd in Nature contest by Shadow Hamilton
SOUNDLESS TEMPEST
Now lightning flickers o'er distant mountain peaks.
The sky develops shadows over all
The breeze accelerates and chills to speak
A warning of the fast approaching squall
Small droplets speckle ‘cross the window pane.
Timid creatures now are seeking sheltered refuge
Vivid flash announces close impending rain
Prodigious splashes transform to a deluge
The waves of rain traverse our panorama.
Gauze curtains drawn by cosmic stage hand's might
Relentlessly recasting features to those of dark drama
As familiar scenes are shrouded, obscured from sight
Now random electric arcs flare bleak vision scanned.
Against blackened clouds weird images confound
An awesome turmoil and darkness is on the land
All visible anchors cast off into shade spellbound
But the terrible drama plays out the penumbra turns fair
Known reference points can once again be seen
The near rocky peaks firm and clear through the rain-washed air
Residual cloud - fine-spun white wraps for hills now green
Contest: Describe thunder storm without the sense of sound
Sponsor: Brenda Chirl
Beneath the busy theater,
a little trap door,
modest and illusive,
opens to a space
infinite and peaceful—
a broader dimension,
resonant and real—
the silent birthing chamber
of all possibilities,
including, by surprise,
the gears animating
the action on the set.
One may find the door
and bask in this continuum
by stepping out of character
and shrugging off one’s script,
releasing and recasting
preconceived props.
You took me apart
All that remained
Were folds of my heart
Where I contained
Memories lasting
Pieces of dreams
Shadows recasting
Torn at the seams
Your whispering words
To both my lost ears
Are bright coloured birds
Chirping my fears
Of summers forsaken
Eroding the sand
Illusions mistaken
I can’t understand
Between our stretched fingers
Our love whispers still
All Images linger
Forever they will
For of this emotion
Regardless the view
My endless devotion
Will always be you
***
May 19, 2017
Copyright © Chris Green and Darren White
Always am I. Perpetually me.
Never ending, death is no obstacle,
Forever is me in the words of my poetry,
Everlasting I shall become,
Perennial in the contrasting,
To conclude is to die, to cease is to lie,
For there will be no recasting,
Unique is me amongst the cosmos,
For I shall endure the test of time,
The tower bells that will never chime,
And when all is dust in the end,
My words stand sublime.
Standing on the bank of love
Casting and recasting
The line. He waits
For a strike.
And, whether it's the one
That got away, or
The one he'll catch
and release, or
there's not a bite at all,
he keeps on fishing 'cause
everytime, the hook
hits the water,
there are ripples and
ripples and
ripples
and... hope.
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.