~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh weary quill, oh ink-stained stick,
You groan, for your nib’s broken and sick.
Once bold and sharp, a knight so true,
Now warped and battered—oh, woe is you!
You’ve danced through novels, poems so grand,
Then hobbled through grocery lists unplanned.
A poet’s sword? A clerk’s sad tool?
Today you blur—a drooling fool.
Remember when you dashed with grace?
Now every stroke’s a grim disgrace.
You skip, you splatter, you belittle my hand,
Leaving smudges I do not command.
Maybe you need a long vacay~
To nap on the beach, your weary quill to placate.
Yet here you remain, my shaky friend
Scribing with me till the bitter end.
Sam is such a fun loving gent,
Ascribing to a Great British accent.
Missing him and wondering where he went.
Poets poised pens pulsating poetry.
Writing wonderful words with wisdom.
Making muses manipulate marvelous minds.
Setting suitable selected scribing schemes.
Regulating reasonably reliable required rhyme.
Also adding acceptable allocated alliterations.
Notable nonsense not necessarily needed.
However haphazard humorous hyperbole happens.
a chill ...
not on skin - to marrow
if but for the frigid air
a horrid pattern would trace my cheek
though not nearly as horrid
as the one that faces me upon the glass
it is quite beautiful in shape
hemmed with
frost crystals like Guipure Lace
the letters formed perfectly ...
I wonder, am I the first?
did you practice scribing it flawlessly
backward just for me,
or is this your common “out”?
oh, if I was yet a plastic figure -
how divine!
no heart to rend
no trembling hands to hide
just a fake little man stuck in a snow globe
dreamy flakes falling like lashes
with just a simple shake …
plastic man with a
happy castle and cresh behind
oh, if only ...
then this callous word
you've scratched
that drips and freezes into
beauty on the window between us
would be naught but
Christmas fun
instead ...
of a farewell.
I am but a poet.
A rhyming cavalier
Expressing words I'm thinking
Until my mind is clear
Counting all the syllables
The consonants and the nouns
Letting my emotions run freely
Through villages and towns
I am but a poet.
The words that I create
Are written with a passion
So others can relate
They fill the head with magic
Bring laughs and tears alike
Expressing all your feelings
When stood up on an open mic
I am but a poet.
Not Shakespeare, if you please.
Sonnets are not my forte
Odes not my expertise
I am a free thinker
Scribing poems to make you think
Of nature and our planet
Putting my frustrations down in ink
I am but a poet.
With each sentence that I write
Are pieces of my being
My emotions in plain sight
Building up a picture
Where my thoughts are at
Filling empty pages
With every this and that
I am but a poet.
My words float on the air
Flying to its suitor
With each stanza that I share
Bringing a different feeling
To each and every soul
I am but a poet
And rhyming is my goal
©? Andrew Mears 2024
Searching for reasons I sit here scribing;
Searching for reasons to trust blindly,
searching for reasons to hit the button;
Searching for reasons to let you in;
Searching for reasons to think it’s real,
searching for reasons to want it to be;
Searching for reasons to do even more,
searching for reasons above board;
Searching for reasons to simply say
‘Searching for reasons ask me to stay.’
Searching for reasons to not be done,
searching for reasons built from silence;
Searching for reasons feeling foolish,
searching for reasons that don’t exist;
Searching for reasons to ever try again,
I sit here scribing searching for reasons.
Thick humidity of memories clog a small girls heart
That pitter-patter like soft, insignificant rain
Such a lonely life was just an urban myth
But I knew the truth of it all
Soaked to the bone, or rather the soul, I took a troubled breath
And I spoke my deep blue feelings to a stagnant sea
The shivered incoherence of my desperate pleas
Went, in tortured time, unanswered
17, forcing out a pained smile
Feigned and faded, frustrated and fated
Destiny leaped and hollered at a touch of weakness
Scribing plans in stone that scare me more than anything
Years went blurry and disoriented, surviving on withering hope
Yet eventually my feet moved slowly, again and again and again
23, I speak my light blue feelings to tricking streams
23 and my god I hope, I know, forever and ever on
Rendering rainbows over candy kisses
Above the marvels of a mindless moon
Meandering with fairies and flower wishes
Miming melodies frolicking with a flirting tune
Nimble poets prance scribing wistful words
Courting playful paramours to canoodle and swoon
Entranced in witless wooing, amorously absurd
Constant pounding of the Bullmastiff's tail.
I know you are approaching.
You wont speak, I don't expect it. You bring the mail.
The summer's heat is encroaching.
You being here is a comforting thought.
I've been restless waiting for you to appear.
You don't come as often as I feel you ought.
The days are longer now, more to fear.
Oppressive temperatures, I sit near a fan.
Just hoping someone will come.
Scribing out poems as best I can.
Closing the blind from the blistering sun.
I hear you in the kitchen, perhaps making tea.
The dog nudges my door to let itself in. Sits beside my chair.
You haven’t yet said hello to me.
I know you are bringing food that the dog expects me to share.
You will bring the food in soon and tell the news of the day.
You will feed the dog with scraps and maybe a bone.
Then you will say goodbye and be on your way.
And again my son you will leave the dog and I to be on our own.
Inkwells,
vein of the Quills,
scribing upon parchments,
heavy laden with dark secrets,
blotted
Date: 23/04/23
Traditional Cinquain poetry contest
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
When the rising day’s light first dawns
scribing the sky in streaks of bronze,
I think of you so far away
and wish the best for your good day.
At mid-day when warming sunshine
speaks of head with heart align,
I think of you so far away
and wish your troubles all allay.
When evening sets with heavy lids,
her color in dark gray forbids,
I think of you so far away
and wish the gods to not betray.
At darkest night within cool breeze
that gently floats across the seas,
I think of you so far away
and hope my wishes find their way.
We who can
must write ourselves down,
send our words to no one
and everyone,
be the mailman and the mail box.
Some say little yet know much
but we who chatter, blab
and reveal
we must write upon this shifting sand
for all things will be undone
but not the scribing thoughts
of fools and poets.
Please tell me which are you?
A hard question
for we are most often both,
yet upon a sometime, we are touched
by the lips of God.
My poetic senses are fertile tonight
The moon resembles jadeite, in hues of pink
Without hesitation, my pen soars in flight
scribing quixotic sonnets in ebon ink
Rhymed verses of amorous trysts in starlight
and two hearts pulsing as one in rhythmic sync
Images I conceive through an artist's eyes
Romance should never be shadowed in disguise
September 9, 2022
checked with howmanysyllable and rhymezone
Poetry community providing
Opportunity for you to be courageous,
Expressing intense feelings
That may have been hidden
Really deeply and tightly within
Yourself for a lifetime.
Scribing poems to share with support
Offers a pathway to self awareness.
Understand yourself, through writing
Poetry.
Writing was our passion a few years ago
Scribing writes of many, themes, topics
Amidst the Soup of our poetry posts
Via a climate cool and so very tropic
Writes were read, comments aplenty
Thrall began to meld and duo's became
Co-writing poems, the fusion of minds
Creating anew, two writers now aim
Our joining of thoughts drew us close
Feeling that the writing had to be felt
So the only way to determine such
Are future cards and how their dealt
To Manila where we met, minds set
Conversation growing, present, past
Visiting Batangas, Santa Rosa mmm!
To Taal, two poets fused hopes to last
Days weeks to months, passed apart
Longing for bands to cement two souls
The knowing that soon we'll soon start
Melding our wants to achieve our goals
We're now close to five years together
Ducking and ecstatic at what live throws
For two became three, Jamie and thee
Our hearts in absorb watching us grow.
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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.