When the aromatic garden of celestial spheres, splatters acrylic herbs,
I listen to soft serenades of sakura raindrops,
floating along singing sapphires, longing to reach the unseen colors, veiling cherry-blossom skies.
I ponder, if I could catch drizzling silhouettes of dancing diamonds,
would I then find petrichor tales of forsaken twilight?
Perhaps, in their liquified state, metaphors do flow,
as I am the aesthetic aura of the champagne sun before raspberry rain,
chasing butterflies and kaleidoscopic moonstones,
rising from the pit of poisoned puddles,
where petals of pretense play h i d e and s e e k, luring me into a delicate destruction.
Now I swim amidst surging sorrows, finding jade stars~ hidden between tarnished turquoise, allowing trickling jewels of the azure lagoon, to anchor my sunken spirit to an island of unfaltering faith.
There, I’ll see beyond blurred blues, the caramelized eyes of a poetic knight, writing sensual sestinas to soothe my sleepless seas, rippling with rhinestone regrets upon rain-soaked shores.
Night poet as, I create
Other poems possible
Tankas intimate
Heroic rhyming poesy
Iambic couplets plenty
Nursery rhyme tales
Greek elegy odes
Italian novellas fables
Mournful elegies
Poesy, sestinas, villanelles
Other verse lyrics
Short rhythmical compositions
Spiritual rhyme versifications
Innovative poetry stanzas
Book anthology prefaces
Literary novelettes
Epic narratives
Craziest Time at the Time of Spilled Soup
I spilled a bowl of vegetable soup –
Slipped on the shiny waxed floor;
The scene I saw made my muse utter expletives –
Fainting in horror at the kitchen door.
Choruses of carrots crushed on the curtains
Prose of Potatoes pelted the windowpanes
Lyrics of limas littered the linoleum
Odes of onions overturned on the oven
Turnips of Thesaurus tumbling free
Sonnets of seasoning scorched on the stove top
Epics of eggplant - emjambment escaping
Ballads of beets beat feet to the back porch
Meters of mushrooms marching on marble
Verses of “vege’s” with visible vertigo
Prosody of pumpkin all over the place
Rhymes of rutabagas running-a-muck
Blues of black beans bashed in the butler’s pantry
Couplets of croutons covered the ceiling
Free verse of fiddleheads floats by the “frig”
Sestinas of spinach stuck to the sink.
Oh, what a sight of poetic distress –
Letters and phrases all over the space
Carefully sorted all the rhythms and rhymes
Put everything back in its proper place.
Craziest time at the time of spilled soup!
8/5/20
166 words
Choice #1
from down on the flats we can see
high-on-the-hills poetry
sonnets like mansions
sestinas in stanchions
they fill our dulled hearts with much glee
While sitting at my writing desk
I penned a poem on white pages,
What came to grow inside my head?
Motley forms of meter ranges.
First, I jotted one Canzone
Followed by two strong Sonnets,
Next, I added three Rondeaus
Not to mention many Couplets.
Then I scribbled five Villanelles,
With six Sestinas I just treasure,
Along with only eight Kyrielles,
A rima royal for good measure.
Now I'm stumped! What should I do?
This poem was meant to be Haiku.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Picasso of contemporary literature...
Sestinas and Plantouns, fiiled with imageries,
These fluorescent poems, alive and talking.
Bethoven's concertos, silent and buried.
Triolets and haikus, mottled the pages with music;
They sing to the audience of poetry.
Robert Frost, in his zenith,
Longing to hear poetic language,
Regurgitates words onto the skies of the dead.
A poet, in this vortex of imagination,
TRI TRAN, drowned in the apex of the sea,
His words, music and paintimgs shadow the past heros' arts.
__________________
poetri(tt5555)
Birth then growing up.
My Kyrielles, Sestinas and Sonnets, now, mature
As they seek shelters around the world;
Flapping wings from Afghanistan to England—
Canada to Vietnam, Italy to Myanmar,
Mexico to Brazil, Iceland to Morocco,
Zambia to Australia, New Zealand to the USA.
They hum, they sing, they whisper,
Breaths after breaths, blissful melodies.
Shakespeare is waiting in his house to read,
T S Elliot, in his hotel, longing to listen,
I, TRI TRAN, in my bedroom, proud and happy.
My work completed, now and forever…
__________________
poetri(tt5555)
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.