Day 4: Imperfect, Limerick, Enjambment
Imperfect is a word we all know,
makes our cheeks brightly
We do what we can to make it right again,
Absolute perfection we feign,
But underneath it, we know.
Day 5: Map, Ode, Metaphor
A map is made of lines
roads of all sizes and kinds.
They show you where you’ve been
and how to get back there again.
But maps are not always paper and ink,
they are other things too, I think.
Your hands are maps, full of lines,
they tell others how you spend your time.
Your eyes are guides as well,
the things you’ve seen, they tell.
So if you feel lost and alone,
and far from home you’ve flown,
Just know that maps will show you the way,
and guide you safely from the fray.
No matter how lost you think you are,
you can always find direction among the stars.
Weekend Poetry Potluck
I’ll be sharing with you one of my favorite poems I’ve discovered lately. Check my wednesday posts for more. 🙂
I am not very good
at a lot of things,
I cannot paint
because the beautiful
things in my head
cannot be translated
nor can I sing to you,
as my voice has an
uncanny habit of
nor can i play for you
as my fingers fumble
when my thoughts
cross over how
you look, watching me
but i can brush the
knots out of your hair,
and work the knots
out of your back
when your day
has become too
much to bear
i am not good at much,
but i will be good to you.
Day 6: Faces, Found Poetry, & Chaismus
I’m skipping this one for now and will try to come back to it later. My brain’s just drawing a blank on it right now.
Day 7: Neighborhood, Ballad, Assonance
A neighborhood is a thing, not just a place,
it’s somewhere to call home, a friendly space.
Some are different but that’s not always the case.
Just somewhere for you to know all the faces.
They’re full of friends and grace.
Somewhere to call home base.
Day 8: Flavor, Elegy, Enumeratio
They never told me that you couldn’t eat
whatever your wanted when your kidneys were beat.
No more peanuts, not even the butter,
“way too much phosphorus”, I mutter.
No more fried foods, no more dried beans,
Now all your eating has to be clean.
Limited liquid, no more salt,
No more dairy, lay off the malt.
No more bananas, no more guacamole.
Learning all this comes very slowly.
Day 9: Cold, Found Poetry, & Epistrophe/Anaphora
is like a
you across the yard. Cold is
like an icicle, dripping slowly down the
collar of your jacket. Cold is seeing your breath
on the window while you gaze at the world outside.
Cold is that first snow flake falling on the tip of
your nose. Cold is a shiver down your spine.
Day 10: Pleasure, Sonnet, Apostrophe
Music is such a pleasure to me.
It says things my words can’t.
Sometimes it makes me chant,
It makes my heart feel free.
Some days I go on a listening spree,
Sometimes my mood makes me slant,
and the music is like my rant.
Other days, I use it to flee.
It fills my ears and makes me smile.
The pleasure comes from within.
Learning it is always worth your while.
It causes goosebumps all over your skin,
It doesn’t matter the style.
You’ll know as soon as it begins.
I’m not super happy with all of these but that’s ok I suppose. I’d love to hear your thoughts on anything. Thank you for dropping by, dear friends and neighbors.