Night has fallen, the hum of electronics hover in my eyes the vroom of weary cars sigh in urban driveways the crickets begin a creekside melody amidst the whooshing of a passing 747 as I lie here my heart thumping my stomach gurgling my throat scratching my eyes tearing my insides screaming. I'll wake up properly tomorrow.
In darkest London all that is solid melts into air the greatest mysteries of the modern world fall into the electric mist of hunger games and fairy tales. Time travellers made in America are catching fire in a restaurant at the end of the universe. Prompt: Write a “book spine” poem. This involves taking a look at your bookshelves, and writing down titles in order (or rearranging the titles) to create a poem.
The mother tongue inside my head was made in an English hamlet she a built a world, on words she read and followed the white rabbit. She never knew who she was although she knew her name was Alice but she kept on going without pause and took her place in Hatters palace. She drank tea with a squeaky mouse and spoke riddles with a Cheshire she grew to big for her house and loved the people that met her. The mother tongue inside my head is a lot like little Alice she listens to every words that's said high in her urban terrace.
It's raining orange and yellows the wind whistles in the air and as I wonder about tomorrow there's a hibiscus hiding there her colourful little petals shivers under the wooden chair waiting for the wind to settle but Autumn is in the air.
If you are a serial singleton and you dance to a spinsters sound then February most of all is the cruellest month around. Society turns to the brightest red raining chocolate and jewellery everyone has a lobster well, except people like me. They'll link their fingers and profess their love hog all the good eateries cock their head and ask out loud Is there something wrong with thee? Because in the month of February when society is pairing some of us are all alone and have lost all sense of caring.
I'm the girl who dreams of sunshine but loves dancing in the rain I fight the fight, just to feel fine it's a battle inside my brain. I found you at Seattle Grace I bonded with dark and twisty and now I have a scandalous face and a book that's rather witty. The words you wrote spoke to my soul I spent a long time in fear you've inspired me to reach my goals, I'm going to say YES this year! I wish I'd been on that kitchen shelf and heard the tales you had to tell I imagine even a christmas elf would have been enchanted by your spell. So, THANK YOU for being you and thank you for Mer and Olivia through them I've learnt some truths or at least some good trivia! Shonda, I am totes addicted I HAVE to hear your words There's no way I could have predicted how your work has changed my world.
Stationed
suited soldiers
watch the battlefield
thunder
roars, rattles
through moving metal
bells
ring loud
commences the fight
to exit trams
at peak hour
Charlie, Charles or Chum
whispered ‘Carpe Dium’
in an empty wood
going nowhere, she stood.
I feel the immensity breathing
splashing through the expectations
finding my salvation in you
in our connected emotions.
Somewhere in this fog is doubting,
splashing through the expectations
loneliness screaming from your eyes.
Invisible tears calling out
somewhere in this fog is doubting
this reef is empty without you.
I will search for eternity
invisible tears calling out
to my destiny, my lobster.
Am swimming through the deep ocean
I will search for eternity
for you, as you are my someone.
I feel the immensity breathing
Am swimming through the deep ocean
I feel the immensity breathing.
Day 16 Challenge:
Today, I challenge you to write in the form known as the terzanelle. A hybrid of the villanelle and terza rima, terzanelles consist of five three-line stanzas and a concluding quatrain. Lines and rhymes are chained throughout the poem, so that the middle line of each triplet is repeated as the last line of the following triplet (or, for the last triplet, in the concluding quatrain). The pattern goes like this:
ABA
bCB
cDC
dED
eFE
fAFA or fFAA.
You can use any meter or line length, though you may want to try to have all of your lines in the same meter! (And you can always fall back on that old favorite, iambic pentameter).
Asking me again, like a
broken record
circling conversations, like
Death lingering
entombed in our talks.
Free me from this expectation
Grant me the salvation
Halt your narration
I am sighing at your
jousting affirmations.
Kindred spirits
living and loving
meandering down the rivers
neverending, but
open the possibilities.
Please,
question them
refuse to answer them
soundtracks are your making
they are only them.
Unicorns and rainbows
vexed by conformity
we are who we are
existentially,
you are.
zig-zags are more fun than straight lines.
Charlie Ann Alford 
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