Iron Poet #5

IP5

Iron Poet #5:

Meter / Style: Villanelle
Theme / keyword: waste

The word “waste” itself does not have to be used. Any form of the word, synonyms, concepts, etc. may be used. The Iron Poet allows even thematic reference as opposed to the use of the actual keyword.

A villanelle is composed of 19 lines

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Villanelle

—–

C.S.E Greenberg

“Wasted life”

Another dollar fifty to my name,
I punch the clock to end another day.
Otherwise, everything remains the same.

Empty eyes gaze into an empty frame,
The money ebbs and flows, with bills to pay
Another dollar fifty to my name.

I laugh, I smile, I play a silly game;
Go on a date, but find no words to say,
Otherwise, everything remains the same.

I listen to people bluster and blame;
All others, their own failures to downplay.
Another dollar fifty to my name.

I’ve given up the dreams of fortune, fame.
I dream of finding love, a love who’ll stay;
Otherwise, everything remains the same.

Will others recall me, or just my name?
What will I leave behind? Some good, I pray.
Another dollar fifty to my name.
Otherwise everything remains the same.

—–

Megan Cypress

“Get A Life”

Is this all there is to life?
Born into a chaotic society
Get a job; get a wife

Another day, another person dies
Starved to death from poverty
Is this all there is to life?

Another generation strives
To make the next day happy
Get a job; get a wife

Live a hard-working life
While the children play free
Is this all there is to life?

As we approach the end of our lives
We tell our sons the way to be
Get a job; get a wife

And at the end of their lives
They’ll tell their sons how to be
Is this all there is to life?
Get a job; get a wife

—–

Mamie Pound

“A Little Night Music”

Thunder clapped, danced in the rain
Big black cloud blew out the light
Tree frogs blew a jazz refrain

Willows bent and danced and feigned
shadows in the failing light
Thunder clapped, danced in the rain

Waved their leaves with tiny veins
oh what rhythm, what a sight
Tree frogs blew a jazz refrain

Along the curb, tiny rivers waned
shimmered cymbals, city light
Thunder clapped, danced in the rain

Windows rattled, shook the pane
Per-cus-sion-ists caught the flight
Tree frogs blew a jazz refrain

It was gone, just like it came
One last crash of crackled light
Thunder clapped, danced in the rain
Tree frogs blew a jazz refrain

—–

Katie Clark

“Lest We forget, a villanelle.”

Don’t close your eyes, lest you forget,
Don’t turn away from your fellow man again;
One nation indivisible are we; yet,

Divided by self-interest, self-doubt, regret,
This lonely wound wastes away, pain.
Don’t close your eyes, lest you forget:

This day, hatred collected her debt,
Torn asunder, an iron rain.
Are we one nation indivisible? Yet-

Look at the flags, waving in the sunset,
For each life lost, they stand urbane.
Don’t close your eyes, lest you forget:

The many faces of our brethren, set
Together, candles and tokens side by side lain,
One nation indivisible, are we yet?

Under the skin: same blood, same sweat;
Free to choose love or hate, hope or pain,
Don’t close your eyes, lest you forget:
One nation indivisible, we are yet.

—–

D Lee Cox

Take care the words you choose to speak
wasted words will show your peace of mind
since balance is what you want to seek

When lasting relations you seek
choose words harmonious and considered kind
Take care the words you choose to speak

Be fair in your critique!
Avoid derision if inclined –
since balance is what you want to seek

Thoughtless words words are rarely chic
and ill words may be found unrefined.
Take care the words you choose to speak.

Admit it when you misspeak
and deny it when your quote maligned –
since balance is what you want to seek

You could appear tepid and weak
your reasoning and progress can be undermined.
Take care the words you choose to speak,
since balance is what you want to seek

—–

 

Iron Poet #4

IronBillyShakes

Iron Poet #4

Meter / Style: Sonnet [Shakespearean]
Theme / keyword: twilight (clarification: NOT THE BOOK / MOVIE SERIES, BELLA)

The word “twilight” itself does not have to be used. Any form of the word, synonyms, concepts, etc. may be used. The Iron Poet allows even thematic reference as opposed to the use of the actual keyword.

The Iron Poet expects an attempt at iambic pentameter (kinda like Shakespeare, himself).

—–

Mamie Pound
At first, his love was only for the night,
but night, it turned so soft, into the day.
The web, she wove was spun of stars and light,
and though he tried, he could not get away.

The sky, at once, unwrapped a silver moon,
silk white, spell cast, fell soft as sifting sand.
On earth, he waits, alone, too cold, too soon.
His heart adrift, let go his lover’s hand.

How sweet, the dark that hides the subtle song.
Jet black, the orb unveils its changing face.
But love, in haste, it casts its lot all wrong.
And fate, anew, withdraws its subtle grace.

Soot black, the night, her face, it will not glow.
Her love, he seeks, but never will he know.

—–

D Lee Cox

“Time to Come Home”

Out shortly after the dawns mist rises
and in briefly for the midday repast
Back out into the afternoon surprises
a boy attempts to make the summer last

Bicycles and ramps, makeshift forts and dirt
beetles, June bugs, rolly-pollies and ants
slip of a stick and there’s blood on his shirt
painting a fence makes white paint on his pants

Ride cardboard, ride a skateboard, ride a bike
play army, play cars, play with best of friends
David, Billy, Henry, Mary and Mike
big silly arguments then make amends

Street lights, cars lights, and the sun is falling
over every neighborhood mom is calling

—–

Megan Cypress

“Twilight in the Summertime”

The moon smiles and lights up the night sky
Sending its joy to the people on Earth
The stars twinkle and the planets shine bright
As the crickets chirp chirp to prove their worth

Around my house, windows are cracked open
The curtain sheers, they dance, dance in the wind
As I prepare for the long day to end
Before a new one starts over again

The breeze is warm; the air, it smells so sweet
The cat, she mews from on top of the bed
She kneads and purrs and rests down by feet
She snores and snores as I lay down my head

Tucked in my bed, the night becomes the day
For in my dreams, I play the day away

—–

Tina Biscuit

“Kine Koan”

Bovine bundles drop soft in the meadow,
Heifers licking, offspring animated.
Sunlight has melted the last of the snow,
Calf unsteady, the cow liberated.

The field awaits, soft cud ripened to chew,
Filling with strength, still a wobble remains.
Lambs share the field, never far from a ewe.
Shadows growing, swallows chirp their refrains.

A bark so loud, sounds the falling of light.
A crepuscular veil snuffs out the fire.
The day seemed forever, until the night.
Hiding the sun, behind shingled byre.

Dog chases badger, a skunk with no smell.
Claws drawn sharply, it never ends well.

—–

C.S.E. Greenberg

“Twilight”

Burgundy wine, untouched by crimson lips
In shimm’ring glass, embraced by sinking sun
Blonde hair about her iv’ry visage whips
Lawless winds, respecter of no person.

Alas! For tears now trickle slowly down
The hourglass of her figure, as she hopes;
Horizon bound, her gaze leaps to hill’s crown
For man shaped glint to alight on its slopes.

Now hours late, yet still stomach held tight
If he arrives, her honor he’ll redeem
But quickly cedes dominion, day to night;
Rays fading now from glow to lowly gleam.

She quaffs her wine; the scent of almond clear
And falls asleep, no longer now to fear.

——

Johnna Murphy

“Gloaming”

Watching her live the end of her years
The setting sun on its due course does fly
The sorrow and sum of my hidden fears
The dulling of the twinkle in her eye

Seeing her slow and sedentary state
Tears now forever locked inside her mind
Wondering what feelings may permeate
When friends fly off while she is left behind

Not quite gone yet, the sunlight lingers still
The brighter times my mind’s eye sees quite clear
Mother/daughter lunches of bygone thrill
Remembering even as dusk appears

Fond memories time can not take away
Even after the closing of her day

—–

Jennie Richmond

As crimson rays of sun begin to fade,
And darkness stalks the shadows of thy land,
Into mine thoughts walketh a lovely maid,
Who stills my beating heart with icy hand.

And there she promenades all through the night,
And occupies my thoughts from dusk ’til dawn,
The lady stays for silvery twilight stars,
And doesn’t leave until the murky morn.

But then, again, alas! I am alone,
For she is but a dream inside my mind.
But, I feeleth, if I start to roam,
The lovely keeper of mine heart, I’ll find.

Oh, mistress of my slumbers, art thou true?
Hither, ’tis sure, mine life belongs to you.

—–