Tag: rictameter
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May 06, 2008 10:20 AM EDT --
Hail Spring
Morning showers
Tender blossoms open
Pastel reflections skim the pond
The wind chimes and mourning doves harmonize
Lilacs recreate heaven's scent
Branches boast soft spring . . .
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January 13, 2008 06:59 PM EST --
TRUCKING
Trucking
Eighteen wheels roll
Nomadic traveling
To/from places unknown to me
Wonderful sights along the way to see
Sporadic eating at buffets
In his dreams he replays . . .
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January 12, 2008 10:58 AM EST --
Morning
Morning . . .
Mauve and purple
and bands of pale yellow
weave through bare December branches.
The sun hangs low, an old gold pocket watch.
Rises higher as I . . .
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February 06, 2008 09:45 AM EST --
Cold Rain
Cold rain
spills down all day.
Huddled against the sky,
pigeons brood into their feathers.
Grayness to darkness to infinity.
Crowded beside blank-faced strangers
on the Five-Thirty-Two, . . .
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March 13, 2008 08:57 PM EDT --
Breaking
Dawn bells ringing
Forming lines making minds
All stand alike from short to tall
Pledge, learn, list, look out windows Saturdays
Castles built in recesses lost
To bells commanding . . .
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February 04, 2008 08:01 PM EST --
Overload
Process
Information.
Bureaucracy often
Removes logic from the process -
Turns everything into hoop jumping.
Jump! Jump! Higher and quicker now!
Now wait patiently - wait... . . .
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January 24, 2008 08:48 PM EST --
A muse
Eyes a light
Laugh and I will laugh too
Cry and I will pour my secrets
Like I pour wine into your empty glass
While you make lies a wish I write
Lines a memory scratched . . .
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April 12, 2008 06:37 PM EDT --
Tell me.
Tell me about
how well you spent today;
about the people you met and
the things you did. But most of all can you
tell me exactly how someone
like me can be loved . . .
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April 24, 2008 06:55 PM EDT --
I went downtown to do some window shopping.
What I found was infinitely more precious:
PINK MUSIC
Music,
pink sonata ,
that's what I will call it.
. . .
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May 07, 2008 12:43 PM EDT --
secrets, unknown, awaited...
secrets,
that's what they are
for me, as I wander
greening woods, radiant meadows
filled with admiration and delight for
shapes . . .
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June 10, 2008 07:24 AM EDT --
I love bridges of all sizes. This love was surely aided and abetted by growing up with frequent crossings of the Golden Gate in San Francisco, mainly by car but also on foot. Ever since the Oeresund . . .
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July 16, 2008 01:17 PM EDT --
Evil
A deft disquise
He wraps himself in flags
His scriptures have been weaponzed
Vitriolic breath,whispers near your ear
Listen as he courts you with chauvinism and fear
Patriotic . . .
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September 02, 2008 10:22 AM EDT --
Pain
He hurts.
Alone in bed,
late at night; always pain.
Can't move, can't turn, this can't be right.
He must keep fighting, can't give up the fight. . . .
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September 03, 2009 07:59 AM EDT --
Bubbles Dance in the rain Flying, effervescent, Brief sights of transcendent beauty A short life dedicated to color And joy for every beholder Flying as far away As the wind takes Bubbles
. . .
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January 17, 2008 06:34 PM EST --
Sleeping.
The click of the
kettle beckons me forth
into a new day of working
with deadlines and demands impatiently
shuffled and shared among workmates.
But . . .
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January 18, 2008 03:49 AM EST --
Hunted.
All unknowing,
unwilling to be a
victim of physics: impact and
penetration, shattering of bone and
tearing of sinew, breaking of
heart and ending of . . .
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January 18, 2008 03:53 AM EST --
Hunter
holds his breath and
squeezes, watching, smiling.
Pure physics in action: windage,
trajectory, elevation, impact
make a perfect shot, a clean kill.
He delights . . .
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February 09, 2008 05:00 PM EST --
My keys
are lost again
ripping things apart, I
make a big huge mess before I
give up and call him and tell him that I
have had enough frustration, I
am not coming and I...
Oh? He . . .
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January 05, 2008 11:39 AM EST --
A rictameter is a nine line poetry form. The 1st and last lines are the same with the syllable count as follows:
line 1 - 2 syllables - same as line 9
line 2 - 4 syllables
line 3 - 6 syllables . . .
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January 04, 2008 04:20 PM EST --
The following is my first attempt at writing a rictameter. I had never heard of this poetry form until recently. I found it fun and challenging.
The Woods
The woods . . .
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