Friday, February 11, 2011

Poems Unrelated

Hello Interwebs. Welcome to the land of Friday. Last round of cinquains today. Oh no! But you know that just means a new form next week.

Today was pretty good, my work study advisor might be raising my payrate which is always exciting. I ate an orange scone, which was delicious. Went to a poetry reading thing, it was nice. The dude was funny, but stumbled a bit on his words. But like mad props for getting on stage dude.

“The Color Blue”
different girl
floating, flowing, killing
childhood stolen, turned assassin

“What's In A Life?”
sliver, slipstream
sliding, singing, dropping
counting out each sand

subjective, bright
blinding, dimming, melting
filling in lost memories

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Return of the Dork

Hi Internets, it's time traveling-wednesday. (I missed updating on wednesday itself, so I'm backdating the post. SO I'M FROM THE FUTURE. scary).

Been feeling a lot better. Watched some Star Trek. Visited my friends and followed a 40K battle, and played mario kart wii as another TV was on CoD:Black Ops. How we roll.

But to the cinquains.

“Purple Cut Steel”
Polyhedral, number-bound
rolling, turning, dancing
deciding on our fates

short, friendly
waiting, watching, shifting
middle of the week

“Double Sided”
magic blood
dancing, moving, fighting
a souls eternal battle

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Of Green Houses and Brown Trees

Hi Internet. I have a bad cold / weak flu.

So I'll be doing Cinquain poetry this week on account of it not killing my brain too badly. Cinquains have five lines, and the first is a word, the second is two describing words, line three is action / -ing words, line four is for expressing "feeling", and line five is one word.

It is a Tuesday, late but still Tuesday, and so I turn to the Magpie. (Magpie 52 of a tree in front of a green house:

“A Pale Frame”
tall, mirror-like
opening, closing, clicking
smudged by memories touch

“To Be, Or Not”
soft, fluffy
falling, growing, changing
the world made new

“Funny Meanings”
green, wide
sitting, protecting, nurturing
children of old trees

Friday, February 4, 2011

Lindbergh Palace

What's new internet? 

Today I have a poem for you that's inspired by a song. The song is called Day's Don't Fade, and is by Lindbergh Palace. It's a pretty snazzy song, I recommend a listen to it. And of course this rounds out the Curtal Sonnets (yay) and onto something new next week.

“Based On A Song”

Day's Don't Fade.
The way that sunlight, moonlight, starlight must
the memories they carry with them on the wind
Building up a reservoir, a blockade
protecting you with a thicker crust
secret moments of the soul, suspended forever in times,

connections with the future, bridges to the past
Reminds you of what beauty is.
more like Calcifer, and less like a single ember
All of those fantastical times, they were a blast,

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Uncanny !

Welcome Internets, to part II of the Curtal sonnets.

I haven't really been up to much as of recently. Contemplating buying the Jubilee and Wolverine comic that just came out a few days ago. It's a new mini-series (1 of 4). Looks like fun, but I'm not sure if I'd be able to get the rest of the issues, since I'd be ordering online, and shipping is annoying (for this first comic it wouldn't be, since I have to buy other stuff anyways). Oh the problems in my life. Haha. >.<

Until I decide whether I want that comic or not, here's a poem about Kitty Pryde. Because apparently that's how I roll sonnets (or sonnet-esk things), in comic book clothes.

“Call Sign Shadowcat”

Once there was a girl, her name was Kitty Pryde
Once only for a sweet, light foil
Once just the little kid sister amongst the guys
But then she got her own mini-series, became bonafide
Shared it with Wolverine, of course, the X-men's oil
But was stronger than he and Ogun combined, proving her value as an ally.

Rolling up with Lockheed the alien dragon at her side,
you know you can't argue with that kind of bonding physic.
And there she goes with the crew again, off to save another day,
So if you see a girl that's just phasing or levitating by,
                                                                              Say Hey!

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Curtal, Curtal, Sounds Like a Little Bird

Hey Internet's.

Wow it's been a long day, and it's not over yet. Wrote a too-long how-to article for my magazine class this morning, went to class, been reading media theory (omg my head), and typing, and now doing this. Soon will have tea and be watching Dollhouse, maybe playing some video game. we'll see where to night leads us in its darkness. 

I'm going to try Curtal Sonnets. This one is a killer. It's a sonnet that is 11 (or 10 and a half) lines. And I'm like super-duper bad at knowing how to stress syllables. So, I'mma shoot in the dark with this, and hope I at least don't kill anyone. 

“Sounds Like A Little Bird”

Sounds like a little bird
singing on the window sill
dreaming of the sun coming up around
There it goes, flying off blurred
it is heading out to find it's lost sun, going downhill
leaving behind its tree, a ghost-town

On it's journey, if finds instead a bright moon
Wherein there were little rabbits, fishing for water
But the birds wings were growing week, strained
And then the next little afternoon,
                                                  it rained.  


Friday, January 28, 2011

Carpe that Diem! (Or Noctem)

Bonjour Internets.

The boy from Monday decided the other day that we should stop seeing each other. It's weird. But I think it'll be ok. Funny how much it fail to hurt in comparison to what I thought it would you know? Such is life I guess. Can't learn to fly before you fall, or land and ollie before failing. Nothing works out all the time. That's part of the magic of the game of it I think. But I wonder if failure is such a good thing to get cozy with?

But anyway...
Last round of Carpe Diem (or Noctem this time around!)


frost comes calling in the middle of the night
much to many people's delight
yet finding the way through ice and snow, we must find a place to go

in the library there is a friendly hug
and cookies in the ancient stable over there

things happen in funny circles
like rivers

life is full of funny things
the curiouser, the curiouser
life is what it is

be who you must be

ollie down that stairway
breathing in the pavement studded moonlight

dance through a crowded city
drinking the movement



singular constants since the beginning

Roll little one, roll,
Statues we are not