Okay, now where did I leave off last week? Looks like it was the Day Eleven poem about the gargoyle . . . Interesting, I still seem to be almost equally divided between free verse and rhyming poems. After finishing yesterday’s I felt like I had written more that rhymed. Maybe it’s just that my rhyming ones seem to work better. :-)
Anyway, first up is Day Fifteen, in which we were to take the title of a poem we like, change it, and write a new poem. For my poem I took Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s How Do I Love Thee.
How Do I Procrastinate?
How do I procrastinate? Let me count the ways.
I procrastinate to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling lethargic
For the ends of Boredom and ideal Laziness.
I procrastinate to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by neon and halogen-light.
I procrastinate freely, as men strive for Progress;
I procrastinate purely, as they turn from Television.
I procrastinate with a passion put to use
In my old excuses, and with my childhood’s justification.
I procrastinate with an energy I seemed to lose
When faced with work, – I procrastinate with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if the Muse choose,
I shall continue to procrastinate until death.
Next, since I was so whiney about it, is my Day Sixteen poem, which was to be about a colour. Remember I couldn’t settle on just one colour?
You think of me, a vow once made
for weather fair, so it’s portrayed.
An arc of colour blended well
I reach from Heaven down to Hell.
Seven colours in my bow,
my shimmer sets the sky aglow.
Red, the first, the outer rim,
stain of passion, anger, sin.
Orange, the next, the hue of fire,
flamboyance, warning and desire.
Caution comes with yellow’s line,
it brings the warmth of pure sunshine.
Nature’s green is next in view,
sign of hope but envy too.
Blue so icy, cold and calm,
the shade of sadness, winter’s psalm.
Indigo, the great dispute.
Newton’s claims were oft refute.
And last the mystic violet, hue
of harmony and kingship too.
You’ll find me when the weather clears
after the rain has shed its tears.
Trapped in a prism too, am I
released by light, I never die.
Is it just me, or are my poems starting to get longer? For my last selection today, I’ll give you my Tuesday Twofer. This was Day Twenty-One, where we had the choice of writing a haiku or writing about a haiku. Being the over-achiever that I am, I did both.
come journey with me
through the future and the past
time is a spiral
On Writing Haiku
A strain on my brain.
Writing haiku’s insane!
Three lines to make sense
(with no recompense)
and the syllable count,
something else to surmount!
How many was that?
Twenty-seven, oh drat!
Carve away ten . . .
start all over again.
Now that word won’t do,
I’ve still twenty-two.
What’s a one syllable word
for something absurd?
I sigh and I fret,
nothing written as yet.
I stare into space
whilst making a face.
Wait! That line is five
I really think I’ve
got the hang of it now.
Next is seven somehow . . .
Five more and I’m done!
Break out the bourbon!
Wow, only one more week of the challenge to go. I sure don’t envy Robert Lee Brewer the job of having to wade through all the poems that have been posted. Most days have seen between 700 and 800 poems posted and I believe he’s choosing five for each day.
It’s supposed to warm up this weekend, so I hope everyone has a chance to get out and enjoy the sunshine! I know I’ll be trying to.