Once Bitten – a Dizain poem

There is no houseguest quite like a spider!
She’ll spin her web, working throughout the night.
You might never know the pain inside her,
though she may try to share it with her bite.
Who is to say her sharing’s not polite,
and how can you know joy without sorrow?
There is no remedy you can borrow,
once by her venom you’ve been paralyzed!
Await the pleasure coming tomorrow —
you’ll find it sweeter than you realized.



Use 5 words from a random word generator.
(spider, sorrow, realized, houseguest, pleasure)


Dizain – a 10 line French poetic form, consisting of 110 line stanza, with 10 syllables per line, and an ABABBCCDCD rhyme scheme.



Doodle (a #NaPoMo #APRPAD rondeau poem)


Let the ink and paper tangle.
Watch the black lines dance on the page
— Fred and Ginger on a blank stage —
twist and turn at every angle.

See that flourish? Watch it dangle,
like a tiger loosed from its cage.
See how ink and paper tangle,
As the black lines leap on the page?

It’s all noise, all bass and jangle–
scattered joy and unbridled rage,
stolen from the battles we wage.
Come and play and don’t act your age.
Watch the ink and paper tangle.



Poetic Asides #April Poem-A-Day Challenge – PAD #8:

For today’s prompt, write a doodle poem. In my mind, I’m thinking of how I like to doodle when I’m talking on the phone or sitting in a meeting. I used to doodle in my classes when I was younger. So for a poem, I’m thinking this could start off as something small that stays small or builds to epic proportions. Doodle around a bit today. If needed, start by describing something close at hand or within your current field of vision.



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



An Adventure in Tricube Poetry



Tricubes – are mathematical poems, based on the number three, and the form was introduced by Phillip Larrea. I found it on Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides blog at writersdigest.com. 
rules of tricubes:
  • Each line contains three syllables.
  • Each stanza contains three lines.
  • Each poem contains three stanzas.
Today, I offer you three, lighthearted tricube poems, just for fun:
I can see
you are not
what you seem
like a wolf
in clothing
made for sheep
you may seem
harmless but
I see teeth
in the ink
you may find
what you seek
whether truth
or escape
from this dream
all I know
is to spill
let it speak
it’s been said
I fly with
my own wings
there is strength
in the truth
this thought brings
still some days
I’m weighted
by small things

Belief (a quatern)


I do believe in wolves, it’s true.
It may not seem that much to you:
to say the truth that I’ve come to
— is that they love like very few.

And when I say — like it is new —
that I believe a wolf is true,
I’m speaking of a person, who
has a wolf-heart, of truest hue.

She looks at me like she could chew
right through my skin. She will pursue!
Oh, I believe she’ll catch me — true.
It’s in her eyes. I’m in her view.

But she’ll defend me, jump into
whatever fight some fool calls due.
She’s fierce and strong. It’s time you knew.
— I do believe in wolves, it’s true.



16 lines broken up into 4 quatrains (or 4-line stanzas). Each line is comprised of 8 syllables. 1st line is the refrain (R). In the 2nd stanza, the refrain appears in the 2nd line; in the 3rd stanza, the 3rd line; in the 4th stanza, the 4th (and final) line. There are no rules for rhyming or iambics.





I believe in fairy tales,
in love,
and lust,
in the honey beneath a lover’s tongue,
in the full moon,
and a sky brimming with stars,
in a good cup of coffee,
that poetry is necessary to keep society from falling apart.
I believe we were truly meant to fly.
I believe in the right to love whomever I choose,
radically and extravagantly
and that every relationship is unique.
I believe there is pleasure in pain,
that vulnerability is a well of strength,
in trusting my heart, even if the world spins backward —
and I believe in the taste and sound of words —
in my mouth, my ears, and inked into the skin of a page.

Without Relent — After Frank Sinatra, Fly Me to the Moon (a golden shovel poem)


I will wander, I will fly — 
will plunder your dreams of me.
I’ll wobble and dance, without relent, to
the night music, spent from my veins. The 
silvery light of the fullest moon
(a mirrored lagoon) and 
the velvet midnight sky, (let 
me assure you) will whisper me 
to sweetest of dreams. So, play 
a gypsy lullaby. Lull me to sleep among 
the branches of your arms. The 
light in your eyes will be my stars.


golden shovel – Take a line (or lines) from a poem you like. Use each word as an end word in your poem. Keep the end words in order. Credit the original poet, ie. “-after (poet)”.


For today’s prompt, write a poem using at least three of the following six words: relent, horrendous, artifact, lagoon, wobble, and plunder.

If you want extra credit (and who doesn’t), try using all six!




Billye Lane


She’s a red-head, gypsy
a highway child —
with earth stains on her feet.
She’ll woo you with whimsy,
and drive you wild —
then leave you in the street.


Alchemical flames
from the moment you touch her
Abandon your hope
Let go of your goal
The picture you take is all that you’ll
keep of her —
Except for the brand that she
leaves on your soul.





I wrote the preceding poem for the August Postcard Poetry Festival, and mailed it off to fellow festival participant, Lucia Sanford.  She replied a few weeks later, with a response poem, indicated above with italics.

From My Bookshelf (found poetry)


the gentleman poet
bedtime stories
of gravity and angels
the traveler’s gift
an uncommon education
where I’m from



some remarks
sweet fire
her fearful symmetry
the gifts of imperfection
deep purple
a night without armor
illegible address
sure signs
love is hard work



I thought it was just me
in the company of Rilke
pleasure and purpose
words, words, words
the sum of our days



Found Poetry

These poems were created using only the titles of stacked books from my own personal library.