Tag Archive | poetry

#OctPoWriMo (day 12) Beneath the Poet Tree

DAY 12

Prompt ~ Imagination Stands in the Road

My current WIP has moved into the drivers seat, and as I am just a passenger on this journey paved in ink, I must follow where it leads. So, again, I’m resurrecting old words that once stopped to play with me. 

Not long ago, I typed poetry to a page, I’m not certain where my mistake was made, but it was auto corrected to poet tree. My original intent was lost, and something new began to bloom, the tale of The Poet Tree was born.

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I’ll tell you
a tale
once shared
with me,
of a magical place
and the
Poet Tree,
where muses
dance in the
gentle breeze,
and butterflies fly
with gossamer wings.

It’s been told
a word
was planted,
and a tree began
to grow,
the trunk rose
high above,
the roots reached
far below.

Her branches lifted
toward the sky,
upon each leaf
a poem
was writ,
she shaded
wandering scribes,
who chose
that place
to sit.

Some say
the tree
called out,
to those it felt
would hear,
they sensed a
gentle pull
when they
dared to
venture near.

They say
the leaves
would whisper,
in softly spoken
rhyme,
with pure and
perfect recitation,
line by
lovely line.

They felt a
temperate presence,
like a ghost
from days
of old,
weaving words
around them,
so the story has
been told.

With unseen
inspiration,
their words
began to spill,
filling full
their parchment,
emptying
their quills.

Oh, how I long
to hear,
her softly
whispered plea,
to take
my place
and rest
and write
beneath the
Poet Tree.

With pen
in hand
and heart
agleam,
I’d script
the hopes
and thoughts
inside me.

Words would waltz
and words
would breathe,
her words
would sing,
they’d sing
to me.

And I
would
slumber
neath her branches,
and dream
a paper dream

© 2017 Crystal R. Cook

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Previous Challenge Posts ~

Day 10 – Choose Them With Care

Day 11 – Playing With Words

#OctPoWriMo (day 11) Playing With Words

DAY 11

Prompt ~ Playing With Words

* * *

For day 11, I chose the alternative prompt, playing with words. It offered me the opportunity to play with one of my favorite writing apps, WordPalette. I suppose it’s much like magnetic poetry, you have words to choose from, to do with them as you please, and sometimes it turns out pretty cool, other times, not so much.

This one is a little in-between, but it says something.

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Shadows and light,

superimposed humanity.

Ghosts of the past,

no longer living,

not completely dead,

their voices scattered,

fractured, waiting to be heard.

Memories and madness

trapped beyond the veil,

interrupted existence,

desperate with regret,

seeking to save souls,

looking down upon the living,

they see walking dead.

If they would hear,

if they would listen,

it might not be too late,

they are drowning

in their own noise

in the cacophony

they create,

trapped inside a bubble

they’re not willing to break.

The dead now know,

know too well,

too late,

they see the living

scream without being heard,

shouting to the deaf,

meaningless sounds,

the protests, the discord,

the right and the wrong,

nothing more than a soundtrack

to fill voids the noise can never fill.

If only they would

welcome silence,

they would hear

the echoes of the past

pleading from the nothingness

of what awaits

the beating hearts below,

listen to us,

hear our plea,

find a way to peace,

find a different way to be.

The day is coming,

the winds of change

are raging,

and soon the rains will fall,

hang on tightly to each other,

your differences won’t matter

when the waves come crashing down,

and they’ll come crashing down on all.

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Previous Challenge Posts ~

#OctPoWriMo 2017
Day 1 – How Did You Get here?

Day 2 – We Write Because We Must

Day 3 – Cherita Poem – Metal

Day 4 – Where Does Poetry Hide?

Day 5 – Bête Noire – Now I Understand

Day 6 – Don’t Forget to Breathe

Day 7 – The Lines We Cannot See

Day 8 – What do you know, and how do you know it?

Day 9 – Twisted Wonderland

Day 10 – Choose Them With Care

 

#OctPoWriMo (day 9 of 31) Twisted Wonderland

DAY 9

~ Alternative Prompt ~

Pull a book off your shelf and randomly open it up to any page. The first word or sentence you land on, write from there. 

 

~ Page 57 ~

“We have to go, Alice.”

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Cheshire Cat is angry,
the caterpillar’s dead,
the flowers lost their voices,
and it seems you’ve lost your head.
 The mushroom’s all been eaten,
the drink has been all drunk,
the rabbit hole is closing,
and time . . . time is almost up.
Tick, tock, tock, tick,
don’t jump over the candlestick,
poor rabbit already burned,
oh, it’s a nasty little trick.
Now, my dear, it’s time for tea,
beside the Hatter’s grave,
Dormouse is expecting us,
 you know he hates to wait.
He might just dig him up (again)
he can’t stand to drink alone,
surely you don’t want to sit (again)
beside poor Hatter’s bones.
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,
have made some walrus stew,
we must hurry along, or we’ll be late,
and I’ll be blaming you.
 I’ve been meaning to ask,IMG_2659
but keep remembering to forget,
where was it you were going,
when you and I first met?
No matter now, of course,
you’ll never find your way.
Ah, but it’s been fun,
too bad you couldn’t stay.
Just think of all you’ve done,
since curiosity killed your cat,
Did you get a taste for blood?
Is that why you came back?
Was it to pet the Jabberwocky?
Did you mean to set him free?
Now he’s loose, you silly goose,
he’s been feeding on the queen.
Were you expecting someone?
There’s a knocking all about.
Never mind, it’s only me,
come again to get you out.
Hello? It’s me, It’s Alice,
I’ve come to fetch myself again.
I know I must be in there,
though I’m not certain where I’ve been.
Time is of the essence,
the hourglass, it’s almost out of sand,
and me and Alice, as you know,
belong in Wonderland.
Again, my dear, the answer’s no,
she can’t come out to play,
not today and not the morrow,
 . . . she’s still locked away.

 

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Previous Challenge Posts ~