- two Tankas (5-7-5-7-7), written as two love letters to each other.
- remove the first letter of the end word in each successive 7 syllable line.
Penelope Connor — ink girl poet
PROMPT:2016 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 2
all of my
4 a.m. thoughts–
of your hips
the way your
and falls beneath
Carry me with you, near or far.
Tuck me in your right hip pocket.
My heart will be just where you are.
Hang me ’round your neck — a locket.
Close the door, or leave it ajar —
I’ll stick by you, ball and socket.
Carry me with you, near or far.
I’ll be in your right hip pocket.
Let’s adventure to realms afar?
We can fly! Don’t mind the clock — it’s
ours to choose, by plane or rocket.
We’ll watch the moon, count every star.
I’ll go with you, near or far.
Poetic Asides #April Poem-A-Day Challenge – PAD #4:
For today’s prompt, write a distance poem. As a runner, I automatically think of running when I think distance. But hey, there’s long distance relationships. Or why not get beyond geographic distance and consider distance in terms of time or emotional distance. Or some other interpretation.
POETIC FORM INFO:
The poetic form focus for my PAD 2016 Challenge is the Rondeau — 13 lines in 3 stanzas; rhyme scheme: ABba/abAB/abbaA (uppercase letters are refrains) Usually 8 syllables per line. For info: http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/personal-updates/help-me-rondeau-help-help-me-rondeau-another-french-poetic-form
It’s 4 a.m. and she brings me coffee. She sits with me in the bed. And she says things that make the wings in my soul twitch and tremble, preparing to fly. Not away, I would never fly away from her, in the frightened uncomfortable way of wild, nervous birds. No, this is more of a soaring on pure, clean joy, at being so greatly loved and cared for.
We talk in the darkness, steam rising from our cups and honesty filling the room with wakeful heat. She is preparing to leave me for the day — it is a Monday and work is required — but I can feel her struggling with the desire to crawl back beneath the covers with me and stay. She falls silent sometimes, gazes at me like the Wolf she is, like I am the moon in her early morning sky. I am.
I watch her shoulders tense as if they were covered in bristling fur. I feel her teeth clawing at my neck and nails biting into my hip. She will leave me soon but she wants me hungry before she goes. What’s more, she wants to carry that hunger with her too. She wants to feel it in her bones all day — to know that no matter the distance between us, I ache with it just as she does.
She checks the clock again, and growls, rolling out of bed. The right thing is pulling her, and it always wins. It’s one of the things I love about her — although today, I groan, protesting loudly about it. I watch her putting clothes on her body, and wonder how she can make that process just as gut-wrenchingly sexy as taking them off.
She knows I will linger here, in her bed. I will sip the remainder of my coffee, pull her still-warm pillow tight against my body, and watch the sunrise through her window before drifting back to sleep. Oh. So. Hungry. She tucks in her shirt tail, and threads her belt into the loops on her jeans. She pulls the blankets up around my shoulders and leans in for a last kiss, then two more.
I watch her pull the bedroom door closed and then listen for the echo of her work boots on the hardwood floor. She is leaving. Twelve steps between here and the front door and every last one feels like the Grand Canyon. Still I smile in the darkness of her bedroom. I watch her headlights sweep the ceiling over my head. I know she is a hungry Wolf, and she will be back.
Between the places where we watch the sky,
some days the distance seems a thousand miles.
In your downpour, you walk and so do I,
and when it rains, our longing turns to smiles.
So when the distance seems a thousand miles.
The rain that wets our skin may be the touch–
(See, when it rains our longing turns to smiles.)
–of tenderness from one we miss so much.
The rain that wets my skin may be your touch–
this rain that falls on me, will find you too.
The tenderness of love we miss so much–
in the next storm, this same rain falls on you.
This rain that falls on me will find you too.
Although I miss your touch I understand.
In the next storm, my rain will fall on you.
So close your eyes and feel me close at hand.
Although I miss your touch, I understand.
In your downpour you walk, and so do I.
I close my eyes and feel you close at hand,
between the places where we watch the sky.
POETIC FORM: Pantoum
Poem consists of quatrains (4-line stanzas). No limit, but at least 2 stanzas. Each quatrain has an abab rhyme scheme. However, the poem can follow an abab/bcbc/cdcd/etc.rhyme scheme throughout. Lines 2 and 4 of each stanza become lines 1 and 3 of the next stanza. Ideally, lines 2 and 4 of the final stanza will become lines 1 and 3 of the opening stanza.
FORM DIAGRAM: (no limit on stanzas)
POEM A DAY APRIL 2015 – PROMPT:
Two for Tuesday
“Write a love poem. Yeah, I said a love poem, or, if you don’t like that option…Write an anti-love poem. I know there are some haters out there; go ahead and hate on love and/or love poems if that’s your thing. So if this is your first rodeo, here’s how the “Two for Tuesday” prompt works. You can choose one of the two options; choose both options; and/or blend the two together in some way. Just be sure to write a poem.”