Author Topic: A Poem A Day (Read 32742 times)

witt · « **on:** April 06, 2012, 12:43 PM »

April 6:

The mockingbird has a wonderful song
But to another bird it does belong
He sings any tune, aria, or trill
But his own voice is harsh and shrill.

cafeRg · « **Reply #1 on:** April 06, 2012, 08:23 PM »

I can see myself sitting on the deck
drinking my coffee on a crisp summer
morning enjoying the song

elise · « **Reply #2 on:** April 06, 2012, 10:26 PM »

Oh to be like the sunset
spreading color and warmth
before slipping silently away

Yay! Thanks Witt for starting this!

witt · « **Reply #3 on:** April 07, 2012, 09:18 AM »

Quote from: elise on April 06, 2012, 10:26 PM

Yay! Thanks Witt for starting this!

You're welcome. It was illiterati's idea. I wonder how long I can focus?

April 7

Manifesting beads of sweat
Fingers curl with rage
Fury crawls from my soles
As I watch my lover age.

Kay · « **Reply #4 on:** April 07, 2012, 11:41 AM »

Witt, how cool and exactly what April needs. I'm late but interested.

cicadas-
rain and broken sidewalks

sounds that begin with S
words that cannot be pronounced

when you are in the mood for memory
it's often better to wait
until the pronouns introduce themselves

to you. When they are mature,
tall inside you like a myrtle tree,
you will become friends.

illiterati · « **Reply #5 on:** April 07, 2012, 10:39 PM »

Kay - I love your random juxtapositions

witt · « **Reply #6 on:** April 08, 2012, 09:56 AM »

Quote from: Kay on April 07, 2012, 11:41 AM

cicadas-
rain and broken sidewalks

sounds that begin with S
words that cannot be pronounced

when you are in the mood for memory
it's often better to wait
until the pronouns introduce themselves

to you. When they are mature,
tall inside you like a myrtle tree,
you will become friends.

Your poem fits me to a tee, right down to the myrtle tree!

witt · « **Reply #7 on:** April 08, 2012, 09:57 AM »

April 8

popcorn, brownies, sweet iced tea
cards pitter-pat across the table
titters echo through the room

hot wings, sliders, ice cold beer
cards slam-slap across the table
guffaws resound off the walls

This lady prefers hot wings.

elise · « **Reply #8 on:** April 08, 2012, 11:21 AM »

mmmm all I can think about is sweet iced tea!

Halo · « **Reply #9 on:** April 08, 2012, 12:18 PM »

1

Sunday 8th

the sun rose hours ago
passed its zenith on the way
to somewhere else
it didn’t stop here
warmed no stone
penetrated not one wall
left no welcome
no comfort

easy to allow panic the upper hand
but for Him

*

Mystic1 · « **Reply #10 on:** April 09, 2012, 07:49 AM »

1
April 8th

leaning scarecrow
donates his button-eye...
magpie’s nest

Mystic1 · « **Reply #11 on:** April 09, 2012, 08:14 AM »

2
April 9th

during an evening stroll
i passed a ramshackle house
clad in weather-worn grey.
a notice on the door:
red, CONDEMNED –
i stopped to smell the roses anyway.

Halo · « **Reply #12 on:** April 09, 2012, 09:58 AM »

2

Monday 9th

each poem
a profusion of life's color
showing daily

------

love this idea.

witt · « **Reply #13 on:** April 09, 2012, 11:33 AM »

Quote from: Halo on April 09, 2012, 09:58 AM

Monday 9th

each poem
a profusion of life's color
showing daily

------

love this idea.

Me, too. It acts like a journal of sorts.

Author Topic: A Poem A Day (Read 32742 times)

witt

witt

witt

witt

witt