~Week 37: The Tricube~
the world is still alive
the world is
still alive
the spring song
chee-dee-dee
of the young
chickadee
the tulip’s
blades like green
flames rising
Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.
Click Here to learn more about the tricube form.
— A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica —
~ Featuring a new form every week! ~
— Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws —
Week 36: The Pantoum
Coronavirus Blues
I woke up this mornin’
And I turned on the news.
Newsman called out a warnin’.
Now I’ve got the coronavirus blues.
Yeah, I turned on the news
And what they said was nothin’ good.
Now I see the coronavirus blues
All around my neighborhood.
What they say is nothin’ good,
Except for those who lie.
All around my neighborhood
We don’t trust that lyin’ guy.
Yeah, we say to those who lie,
“Your judgment’s comin’ quick.
We don’t trust that lyin’ guy
He’s enough to make you sick.”
Their judgment’s comin’ quick,
Those liars on the news.
It’s enough to make you sick.
I’ve got the coronavirus blues.
Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.
Click Here to learn more about the pantoum form.
— A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica —
~ Featuring a new form every week! ~
— Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws —
Week 35: The Shadorma
Little Goldfish
you can’t swim
your way out of this
bowl little
goldfish and
you can’t learn to breathe this strange
unnatural air
Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.
Click Here to learn more about the shadorma form.
— A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica —
~ Featuring a new form every week! ~
— Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws —
Week 34: Concrete Poetry
Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.
Click Here to learn more about the concrete form.
— A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica —
~ Featuring a new form every week! ~
— Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws —
February by Adam Astra
brrr
buy beer
rub furry bear
Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.
Click Here to learn more about the anagrammatic form.
— A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica —
~ Featuring a new form every week! ~
— Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws —
Terzanelle by Adam Astra
Even now, there’s some ink left in this pen;
As long as I can find an empty page,
It’s never too late to begin again.
It still feels like I’m naked on a stage
When I undress all these old doubts and dreams.
As long as I can find an empty page,
I can return to the source—that wild stream.
Years spent swimming through stacks of old notebooks
Where I undress all these old doubts and dreams.
I’ve cast out many lines without a hook,
And well, I don’t have time to dwell on my
Years spent swimming through stacks of old notebooks,
Wondering where I’ve lost the time and why.
It’s been a long journey, but now I know
Too well. I don’t have time to dwell on my
Regrets, but I’ve got time to let them go.
Even now, there’s some ink left in this pen.
It’s been a long journey, but now I know
It’s never too late to begin again.
Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.
Click Here to learn more about the terzanelle form.
— A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica —
~ Featuring a new form every week! ~
— Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws —
~A sample of what you’ll find at my new blog, Astra Poetica~
(see below for details)
The Stargazers
Away from the glare of the city’s light,
We follow the firefly’s flash.
Abandoning the screens that so narrow our sight,
We trace the heavens for our favorite constellations.
With galaxies and gods, all going ’round in our flight,
We lay down our blanket in a hidden patch of prairie.
In this brilliant darkness, our vision’s set right,
As the dazzling meteors slash
Across the impossible night.
———————————————————————————————–
Click Here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.
Click Here to learn more about the Magic 9 form.
**COME BACK TOMORROW TO SEE THE NEXT WEEK’S FORM: THE OVILLEJO!**
–Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws—
Greetings friends and poetry lovers,
I’d like to invite you to check out my new blog Astra Poetica, where I post weekly as part of an ongoing Fifty-Two Forms Poetry Challenge. In order to promote the challenge, I’ll be sharing an original poem in a unique poetic form every day over the course of the next ten days. My first randomly selected poetic form was: The Gwawdodyn.
Sons of Abraham (An Original Gwawdodyn)
Tell me all you Sons of Abraham
Spilling sacred blood for sacred land:
Do your daughters weep to see the slaughter
Of so many sacrificial lambs?
Click here to learn more about the gwawdodyn form.
Click here to learn more about the Fifty-Two Form Poetry Challenge.
*Creative works are owned by the author and subject to copyright laws*
James Wright – 1927-1980
A Blessing
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.
For mom.
THIS INVISIBLE OCEAN
As a wild eyed child, little shovel in hand,
I dug for treasure in a box full of sand.
I uncovered a seashell, a spiral of ivory,
And ran to ask my mother what this wonder might be.
She motioned to the plains, as she explained to me
How they were underwater as far as you could see.
I looked out in amazement as the tall trembling trees
Trickled as they shifted in the quick liquid breeze.
I turned to my mother and I said, “No way!
You mean what we see here, that’s just today?
But mama, oh mama,” I said, suddenly afraid.
“Mama, oh mama, why can’t it stay the same?
Mama, oh, mama, will the water come again?”
She took me in her arms and kissed my salty tears,
Caressed my dirty forehead, and whispered in my ear,
“If you live in this moment, you will learn to swim
This invisible ocean that we’re living in.”
Adam Astra 