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 The second of my collections of poems written for "Express It In Eight." |
| As usual these days, I choose blog format because it offers more space for the work. |
| The Mystery of Tomorrow The mists begin to coalesce our future under construction, pool links to mountain crag and landslip conjures form. For a moment vision clears, a memory returns emboldened and drifts to shapes forgotten, more hints of soon to come. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 12.16.25 Prompt: Write a mysterious tomorrow poem. |
| Ticket to the Skies Oh, sardine can of the skies make room for my friend in your silvery flight bring him safe to journey's end. Lay him gentle in assignèd space amid the ordered rows and may his luggage destined be as true as fly the crows. Line count: 8 Rhymed abcb For Express It In Eight, 12.11.25 Prompt: Write a poem about saying goodbye to someone leaving on an airplane. |
| Settling While never my intent to rove not even for a treasure trove I came at last to settle down in one of many a faceless town. It being not the salient point the aspect of the chosen joint it’s more a matter of journey’s end and lack of wanderlust to spend. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 12.10.25 Prompt: Write a poem about settling down. |
| Moon To speak with equanimity to the moon is as easy as eating with a spoon no need for symbols or the occasional rune your words can be a simple tune. For if truth be told and rhyme be thine the moon cares not for inscrutable sign he always prefers the most simple line and speaks in language both thine and mine. Line count: 8 Rhymed aaaa bbbb For Express It In Eight, 12.09.25 Prompt: Write a poem about a conversation with the Moon. |
| Out of Order Mock the humble collector if you will, he remains the epitome of logic still, the basis of our civilisation and fountain of improvisation. This drive to have things one by one is reason why the machine doth run, and beyond the border chaos reigns over order. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 12.05.25 Prompt: Write a poem about ‘out of order.’ |
| Numbers Oh, delirious draught of ether, something to allay the fever, a gas to inspire some laughin’ or party with fatted calf in. Perhaps even the fabled novocaine, that welcome, numbing rain of swollen, painless fumbling into the future stumbling. Line count: 8 Rhyemed aabb For Express It In Eight, 12.03.25 Prompt: Write a poem that includes three numbers. |
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Dan is a poet; I can point out at least one of ID's songs that has a perfectly symmetrical syllable count. Ryan leaves more up to the skill of his voice...
