Day #65-#68: Birthday Weekend!
I’ve missed the last three days because 1) it was my birthday, 2) my parents surprised me by flying out to Canada!, and 3) that’s it those are really the only two reasons. So, today we are starting out with the Quatern poetry form and moving on from there.
Saint John, Canada
Abandoned, chilled streets huddle close A cemetery slants left Stagnant water – a copper blue A cruise ship docks as tide comes in
A pigeon coos amongst the air Abandoned, chilled streets huddle close Buildings rust and windows broken A man stands sturdy in his door
One small island stretches out – plump. Trees turned fierce hues have blown away Abandoned, chilled streets huddle close Roads run empty as dried up veins
A few delicate songs from wind Or the crinkling clap of leaves Reverberating local steps Abandoned, chilled streets huddle close
This form is called the Rannaigheact Mhor. I only did about half of the poetry form for this one because it’s got a lot of complicated rules and I have a lot of poems to get through today!
She has achieved age twenty-two Born brand new with none to grieve We’ve doused her head, leave through Dewy doors caught in your sleeve
This form is called the Rhupunt and it’s much easier than the last form! It’s got some cute rhyming in it that I don’t mind. This poem is about the fact that I am fed up with judgment. It’s purely a useless thing our brains do and I literally just want to take out that little voice and throw it into a burning vat of fire. 🙂
I Can Stop Judging Now It’s Absolutely Useless to Me
I hate feeling Unappealing Like I’m stealing Others soft hope
I can cry, sure Or yell to cure I can allure The truthful rope
I’ve finished doubt Burned it right out No more false spouts I choose this scope
I will scream dark My life embarks Leave me to mark This story’s slope
The Rimas Dissolutas poem is a form that both rhymes and doesn’t rhyme… I would rather it just didn’t rhyme altogether, but what are you gonna do.
Stop Calling Me a Bitch
No, seriously, stop. And also stop thinking that it’s funny And stop disrespecting my boundaries, please Let me be a fucking human being
I’m not your emotional mop I’m barely my own, I’m not full of sweet honey I get it, we’re young, we make mistakes, we tease But it draws me back further and now I’m fleeing
I’m a nice person learning to be kind. It’s a hard job And I fail a lot. I should communicate more. I’m a junkie Getting high on hiding the problems with too much ease. But just don’t call me a bitch it has meaning
I know I pull the same strings for others. I flop Around like a fish looking for a stream still bubbling Apologies don’t begin to tie up the disease Of hurting others unintentionally. I’m truly sorry if I damaged your well-being