I'm feeling uninspired as of late - so I started up two threads in the UrbanPoetryCafe <----------- a neat little group here on SG, it comes highly recommended
a tanka thread and a quintain thread.
the west has sort of taken over the haiku but tanka is a much more powerful tradition in Japan - a tanka is 5 lines in 5-7-5-7-7 form
here are two
rounded and knowing
delicate sensation's play
deliberate joy
in expectation and lack
veiled mystery emerging
silken wings, sticky
cocoon memories broken
earthbound toil a dream
darkmysterious and true
ecstatic arc of delight
the quintain is a neat little western form of lyric poetry - 5 lines in 2-4-6-8-2 form
sunset
redorange glow
glorious seasonal
shift into soul's darkness into
witchcraft
I'm hoping my pals at the UrbanPoetryCafe will take up the gauntlet I have thrown down and start writing so I can get inspired
the constriction of these small forms produce interesting results, when I'm writing these things I can feel myself getting better as a writer (now I'm sort of horrible but that's beside the point)
a tanka thread and a quintain thread.
the west has sort of taken over the haiku but tanka is a much more powerful tradition in Japan - a tanka is 5 lines in 5-7-5-7-7 form
here are two
rounded and knowing
delicate sensation's play
deliberate joy
in expectation and lack
veiled mystery emerging
silken wings, sticky
cocoon memories broken
earthbound toil a dream
darkmysterious and true
ecstatic arc of delight
the quintain is a neat little western form of lyric poetry - 5 lines in 2-4-6-8-2 form
sunset
redorange glow
glorious seasonal
shift into soul's darkness into
witchcraft
I'm hoping my pals at the UrbanPoetryCafe will take up the gauntlet I have thrown down and start writing so I can get inspired
the constriction of these small forms produce interesting results, when I'm writing these things I can feel myself getting better as a writer (now I'm sort of horrible but that's beside the point)
VIEW 21 of 21 COMMENTS
Otherwise, he would have dropped dead.
So that was proved.
Crow reclined, marvelling, on his heart-beat.
And he realized that God spoke Crow -
Just existing was His revelation.
But what
Loved the stones and spoke stone?
They seemed to exist too.
And what spoke that strange silence
After his clamour of caws faded?
And what loved the shot-pellets
That dribbled from those strung-up mummifying crows?
What spoke the silence of lead?
Crow realized there were two Gods -
One of them much bigger than the other
Loving his enemies
And having all the weapons.