future (un) limited

07 Oct 2021 35 Comments

by lynn__ in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

i.

raindrops slip off sumac’s leaves
symmetrical and dyed blood red;
drip on faded pink blooms lying in
soggy clumps on mossy ground.

ii.

torchlight flickers off fortress wall
horse hooves clop on cobblestone;
chain mail and long swords rattle
as crusaders’ templar flag unfurls.

iii.

grandmother repeats phrase
“There’s a bear in the road!”
strong premonition of danger,
growly excuse to stay in room.

iv.

furious thrashing near surface
orcas attack great white shark;
merciless predators prowl sea
dolphin cousins dress for dinner

v.

things are not always as they
may appear, mysteries abound
i want to appreciate wild beauty
here; to live boldly before i die.

 

 

Bjorn Rudberg at dVerse poets’ pub invites us to write a cadralor form poem of 5 unrelated imagist stanzas (of equal lines) with 5th stanza pulling a thread to tie them all together.

grandmutter clutter

23 Oct 2017 6 Comments

by lynn__ in epanalepsis Tags: , , , , ,

IMG_5156

chunks of myself run
around as toddlers who
hold hunks of my heart.

my fragmented thoughts
consider their future. it’s a
sadly fragmented world.

pieces of puzzles and
toys scattered on floor;
ordered home in pieces

spread a slice of bread
with peanut butter n’ jelly,
enjoying this slice of life.

 

“Epanalepsis” is a literary device developed into a new poetry form by Mick Talbot with repeated words, according to this pattern:

RED: Repeated words in epanalepsis don’t have to be identical, but must be in context.
BLUE: Epanalepsis can occur across two sentences.
GREEN: Same word used at the beginning and end of a sentence.
VIOLET: Epanalepsis can occur within a clause of a sentence.

(I used violet instead of Mick’s mauve because it shows up better on my page)