For the poetry class we have recently being doing exercises to consider the use of imagery, form and character. I don’t think that this has produced any great poetry by me but the exercises have been well worth the time and effort. I think my poetry will be improved considerably b y flexing muscles that are ususally neglected.
Is under attack.
I will do my best to defend her and fly with the
I will make my mamma proud and follow her
Maybe one day I will also be a
I will avenge the deaths of my glorious comrades
Always we will maintain our
Never shall we submit to the oppressors
Always will we train tenaciously
Today we speed in stealth and skill to the
Informers hover and hide, squirming in their
We will wrest them righteously from their
It is one full year since she took from me my
And safe by my side sits my sure and steady
Bouncing on my bruises and scraping my
My constant companion and keeper of my
Today is my name day; I am twelve years old:
Today I will get a promotion for my valor:
Today my mission will be a towering triumph:
Bona fide bloodshed.
Today I will receive ice cream to celebrate:
Now I pray to the gods for freedom from
Now I hope to the heavens for blindness to
Now I cry to the night to spare me from
Death filled Dreams.
Now I look to my lionhearted leader
Soon I take up my privileged place:
Now I dream hopelessly of simple gifts
Now I listen attentively to ensure my
Now I hear the words and obey what my
Telling, persuading, warning
The fairest still another?
Warping, stretching, squashing,
Fairground joker sporting mockery.
Gleaming, dreaming, praising.
Sweetest youthful fresh-faced maiden.
Winking, flashing, beckoning
Save soldier hiding: message.
Blurring, misting, dripping.
Shaving foam erupts volcano.
scheming, gathering, puckering.
Furrowed forties fading fast.
What made me do this? It’s bloody freezing!
Ugh! The smell of that damp musty earth
Is chilling me even closer to the bone.
My nose is so sore and this infernal dripping
Is hardening the muffler, scratching my chafed chin.
I can see the road from my ditch!
The flashing headlamps intermittent.
It’s wrecking my night vision. Bugger!
Now all I can see are blazing orbs of yellow.
This camo is so thin! It’s wet! I can feel
The Burning prickle of hives welting
On my thighs and on my belly. Feel That!
Slab cold, tingling, itching, screaming!
Here’s the next car coming now.
I bet its some lucky bugger going home!
He’ll snuggle with his lover by a roaring fire
and snort a huge plate of lovely chips and drink some wine.
That’s right torture yourself some more…
Oh! We’re moving. Hang on!
It’s so bloody dark! What was I thinking?
This is no place for a girl. I should be
Getting ready to go out,
Not stumbling across the Downs,
Blisters fretting, raw against the
Leather of these bloody clumsy boots —
Not clutching this damned rifle against my breast!
I know I’ll lose that spare magazine!!
Oh we’re stopping here! Another wood?
Take a knee private. By this ‘ere tree private.
“Yes Sgt!” — Jumped up cocky bastard.
Where the hell is everyone? I can’t see a thing!
God! It’s been hours. Are the others still there?
I should call out. I know that git will jump
All over me if I do, and he hears me!
No I’ll just wait a little bit longer…
That whipping wind is lashing me!
It’s s-so d-damned c-cold. N-numb.
Wh-Who’s there? Great! I’m seeing things!
I hope I didn’t fall asleep. I didn’t did I?
I should ch-check they’re all s-still there.
What’s that? Something moved.
I know it did. There’s nothing now though…
Just yawning, gaping darkness and the waving trees.
I w-ish I w-was back in that d-ditch
At least it was out of the w-wind.
H-how much longer? Private. Moving out.
Pick up the rear! Look lively lass! Gotta long way to go!
Then last week we were studying form and I had no idea that there are so many! I chose to do short forms and practice reigning myself in because I have trouble with brevity. Here are the forms I chose and the poems — not that impressed with them to be honest:
Point to hopeless thought.
Echoes ringing dispatch swift.
Fast held. Future ends.
Snow falling simply, softly veils the day,
But crisply calls the step toward the door.
The jingle ring announces Santa’s sleigh,
And echoes o’er the valley and the moor;
The children hanging thrilled to the lore.
Youth will hang her sweet berries overhead
And drape her hopeful stocking from the bed.
Time floats away without cares.
Burden my spirit ensnares.
Deadline unreachable glares.
Heavenward sending my prayers!
Coming from end to beginning and back; eternity
Rolling out years beyond mortal track; eternity.
Time forced to wait in crude, sullen hallways calls
Instance and greed and we all patience lack; eternity
And when I lounge and passing time ignore, at last
Peace I gain and tranquility unpack; eternity.
So end my stabs at the short and sweet rhyme forms
I (name) to my former go back; eternity.