Some Poems I've written over the past 2 months

Poem written by SpringOnions on Thursday 5, September 2019

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We got some Haiku, a Ghazal a Villanelle, a couple singular quatrains that could probably use some expanding. And Yeah. Don't let me forget that I have to comment on other people's writing as well - I'm posting this at midnight just before I go to bed.

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Let's start with some Haiku 1. They flee from the rain Home, they giggle, play and kiss – Buckets catch water. // I feel like this is my best one - but in my head it doesn't seem to 'shimmer' as some Haiku do. Haiku is hard. 2. Ice block below lake, Metal tools, chip, splinter, break. Frog. Frozen – Alive. 3. Metal ball. Strong breeze. Paper stays. Window closes – The shredder consumes. 4. Frosted morning glass, woollen jumper worn too tight – subtle, burning sun. 5. Cold feet on tile floors, humming electric heaters – mellow rising sun. I have some Quatrains I found Quatrains the hardest form of poetry - getting the metre and feet correct was difficult. They do not want to die The Spectre hides. The Shadow cries. They are lost, never found. The have seen void. Nothing. Empty. They watch and make no sound. Eugen Berthold Friedrich Brecht Famous German author – he created Epic Theatre, his name misspelt is Bert -olt Brecht. When his broken heart arrested Him in 1956 he bit the dirt. ^ This one was meant to be in Iamb but I'm still not sure I've nailed it. A prose poem (I hope) In Glass Inspired by ‘Away from the Flock’ by Damian Hirst, 1994 Can you Hear me? I’ve been killed. Frozen. Trapped in glass. Forced to live longer than all my brethren and yours. Without living at all. You call me art. A symbol of innocence. An exercise in futility. A warning to those who wander too far away from the flock. But why not just put me back? Return me to my flock? Let me live and let me die. Suckling at my mother’s tit. Sleeping under the great oak tree. Idly eating the grass. Instead, you killed me. Preserved me. Tortured me. Trapped me. In glass. A Ghazal Red Flags The attractions of youth, too volatile, Go and you will learn truths, too volatile. The television talks of chaos, without the black flags, Entertainment without claw and tooth, too volatile. False Fallacy, False Dichotomy, False News. They smile as we consume “too volatile”. Peace is when the oppressed stay quiet. Obnoxious peace. Even those in school aren’t immune, too volatile. Their metal meets our sands, and they ask for a home, The seas are rising. The fence cannot be cut through. Too volatile? The homeless stare at the street of empty houses, never sold. The starving watch the food rotting. There is no review. Too volatile. A cold sweat runs through the sleepless bed. There are some things we cannot undo, too volatile. I wake every night afraid of the invisible blaze. I carry a red flag and call for change. Am I too, too volatile? And Finally A Villanelle The Past has Passed (away) They are lost forever except in our hearts. The Past has passed. No castes, or mobs or hate. We stand on the plateau. The river ebbs, eddies and flows, where will it take us? The paths are vast. I buy my third house, empty, subdivided, mine. My wealth, amassed. I wander through a cattle-grinder city. It rains and there is nowhere to go. They are lost forever except in our hearts. The Past has passed. The coffee is too hot, my mouth is alight. I fire her – miscast. The sun sets, it’s six o’clock. The bag is thrown out. Lettuce, mince, rotten tomato. The river ebbs, eddies and flows, where will it take us? The paths are vast. We make sure we do not bid last. Boys, girls – we know their future. Killed, harassed. I need a release. I need an escape. The last of my money for a shit afterglow. They are lost forever except in our hearts. The Past has passed. The world’s lungs burn. The cattle graze. I like the forecast. The town stands in silence at the auction. I bid alone, for my stolen land. The money was borrowed. The river ebbs, eddies and flows, where will it take us? The paths are vast. They knock at my door. I knew but never acted. My future is overcast. Wrong place, wrong time. Lights red and blue. Bullets through my dark torso. They are lost forever except in our hearts. The Past has passed. The river ebbs, eddies and flows, where will it take us? The paths are vast. Also now a Triolet Dark Learning A cold unbearable. A heat unthinkable. Alone. Forever. Nothing. The flame burns out. The deep red no longer visible. A cold unbearable. A heat unthinkable. Together, we can do anything. We’re invincible. Alone. The fire is hushing. A cold unbearable. A heat unthinkable. Alone. Forever. Nothing. A cairn of boulders buries the sea. The ice-hearted mountains, from a distance, just watch. The cold, dead water seeps through, breaks free. A cairn of boulders buried the sea. I submerge myself into a shallow pool of memory. A clock stuck at 18. Packed snow. My belt moves in another notch. A cairn of boulders buries the sea. Alone. The fire is hushing. A shadow, shudders past the bonfire’s light. The shadow warns. A shadow welcomes me into the night. A shadow, shudders past the bonfire’s light. A piercing noise, a pale flashlight. The shadow scorns. A shadow, shudders past the bonfire’s light. Together, we can do anything. Invincible. A hunger, a thirst, the blood still pumping. Shadows dance in the corners of my eye. A rush of water. Hidden. Off the cliffs, red, cascading. A hunger, a thirst, the blood still pumping. Tears of the past, in the shadows, replaying, re-watching, reliving. Is it ash or snow that burns our hands dry? A hunger, a thirst, the blood still pumping. The flame burns out. The deep red no longer visible. The sea returns, a frozen puddle, red and white. A shattered memory, torn, like glass in water. She was nothing but polite. The sea returns, a frozen puddle, red and white. It burns away the grey white lather. The water from my eyes alight. Crushed bones and ash mixed with water. The sea returns, a frozen puddle, red and white. Alone. Forever. Nothing. A cold unbearable. A heat unthinkable. Alone. Forever. Nothing. A void of black and white. Irresistible. A cold unbearable. A heat unthinkable. The pain. The suffering. Invisible, now visible. Frozen blood. Charred flesh. The water falls frozen, red, gushing. A cold unbearable. A heat unthinkable. Alone. Forever. Nothing. Sorry if this was long. But if you got here - thanks for reading. I hope it was entertaining, or thought provoking or hopefully, somewhere inbetween. Smile
   

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    I really liked haiku #2 (and yes, I agree that haiku is hard to write) and the quatrain "In Glass."

    Very good.