NO CRUSHING, LET'S IGNITE
(LOVE)
The same way every year
Shoes strips slightly away
A hole we're meant to cover
The Harmony in my solo witter
It's bitter, to dance lonely,
It's better to dance lovely
We sing dulcetly but differently
without backups
Why should we wait for morn to break,
While we cast blushed glances
on each others in every darkened nights?
Hey! This our voices must merge
Our shoes should step together in array
A dance, a hole shouldn't be blank
A sweet love song must usher us with a cup of cold ice-cream in the nights of Valentine somewhere at an outskirt.
We've fallen in the same sea of feelings
So we can still jet-land into another city of undiluted ecstasy of love.
Our love will live even in greyish hair.
'Natural love always avail itself, let's kick it ON'
©Gideon i Tukuna
Tales in Norse folk lore of
these mythical creatures,
though sadly nowadays
they are better known for
trawling the internet
targeting people on
Twitter and on Facebook
Pleiades T Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kim Merryman
6 syllables per line checked with HMS
04/26/21
the womans sista took exception to what was happening
and wanted in on the deal.
" thats my Daddie Dough,"
ya'll gonna get me sum-of-dat money"
I got a secret formula too, and ya'll need mine
to get where ya'll wanna be.
her daddies recipe
7 cups of rised yeast dough
in a sauce pan add 1 cup of pureed raisins
1/4 cup of butter
1/4 cup of chopped fine almonds
1/4 molassas
3 tablespoons of vinegar
mix well and allow to rise.
that's how my Daddie made those
wonderful loaves
that my formula too, I won-summa-dat money!"
I open my bleary eyes,
To the beautiful sheaf of sunlight.
Book lying beside me sighs!
And whooshing sound of papers rant, as they fly by.
Baby! Why you left me without saying good bye!
What do I tell you about my epeolatry?
With people around, I can’t witter for too long.
My lust for the books is just too strong!
Slowly, I scud away at the first chance.
And skulk into books, before anyone’s glance.
Contentment latches the door; the silence is profound.
Books, joy and peace all around.
My books leave me spellbound.
Redolence of papers and ink so sound,
It creeps in like ethanol into my mind.
Fragrance of musty papers takes my charge, as it surrounds.
Inside my self is a loquacious place.
Cogent and scrupulous, solving mysteries with authors pace.
Don’t you think that I am a dolt!
It is just that the story, slowly unfolds.
Yes! I feel deeply, I feel fiercely.
Yes! I emend, I recapitulate and iterate.
Yes! I do read and re read.
Yes! I am a book worm and this is my treat.
08/03/2019
The Book Worm Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
The gaps in her sentences
are always filled with insights from others
Who prompt her to speak a truth she does not ascribe to
They witter and order and claim her thoughts as their own
Changing the essence of what she feels
so that she offers saccharine lies
Seething inside she wonders at a world where reality is desecrate
the rubbing away of hard edges
Grinding her down in the process
Her pauses are all she has, reflections of herself
The gaps in her sentences
A testament to the woman she wishes to be
When I wake up I have but one dream,
you never getting mad at me.
I always being with you.
Like a story each day but not yet witten
no happy ending,
sadness in the eyes of the witter ,
the beauty in the eye of the dreamer,
the confusion in the eye of the lover,
the story of the unfinished dream.
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.