Entries to Express It In Eight from September 2020 to the present . |
The number of poems enforces the use of blog format with ten poems per page. |
The Call The journey is the thing, it has that certain ring. Mere destination’s moot when road calls to your foot and heart yearns to be gone into the far and yon, then wander is your home and evermore you’ll roam. Line count: 8 Rhymed couplets For Express It In Eight, 12.20.23 Prompt: “There is a time for departure even when there’s no certain place to go.” – Tennessee Williams. |
My Favourite Tipple My ancestors didn't drink beer, they had something else without peer - a golden elixir that spelt hearty, 'twas always the life of the party. Those old Anglo Saxons were wise, the greatest of things in their eyes was a flagon of liquid called mead made from honey - it was all they would need. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 12.19.23 Prompt: Honey. |
Visits “There’s visits and visits and choices exquisite,” said David of Number Nine, “Some that you would dread or greet, with arms outspread, dependant on mood at the time. But if you would wish to benefit most, be the visitor, never the host.” Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 12.18.23 Prompt: Write a visit poem. |
Electric Orchard By careful breeding and specialised feeding, they managed to raise, far beyond all praise, Christmas trees laden (like fairytale maidens oh heavenly sight) with pre-installed lights. Line count: 8 Rhymed couplets For Express It In Eight, 12.16.23 Prompt: As per illustration. |
Something There Is To walk the line with Robert Frost’s neighbour, not stone, but wooden posts, abruptly ended by a tree that declares, with arms extended, “You’ve had the last from me.” Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 12.13.23 Prompt: As per illustration. Which made me think of Frost’s poem Mending Wall. |
Old Man The old man sits hunched and brooding alone, brows knitted and bunched, lips silent as stone, his eyes fixed on nowhere and always downcast, his thoughts being elsewhere and ashes his past. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 12.12.23 Prompt: Write a poem about ash or ashes. |
The Little Things Like a woman The water drop In grasping the holdless ceiling Defies the sight and mind of man Proposes cloudbed rivers borne By windy banks To seas and oceans Of the sky. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 12.11.23 Prompt: Enjoy every small thing. Note: I cheated on this one - the poem is not new, being an extract from something I wrote in about 1972. But it expresses much of the intent of the prompt and was instantly recalled to me by the subject. If you want to read the whole poem, it’s included in my blog post for today. Everyone deserves a holiday occasionally, even if it’s just from originality. |
Undefeated Here I stand, poised upon a pinnacle and trusty weights to hand; push me if you will and, whoa, I bend over, but soon recover, only to fall the other way, but I’ll return. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 12.10.23 Prompt: Write a kinetic poem. |
Out for the Count One knock at the door I’ve not heard before, two lovers at least to visit the priest, three making a crowd and talking aloud, four knives for the beast that makes up the feast, five fingers at hand and five in the band, six eggs in the box not guarded by locks, seven the number but no cucumber, eight are the wet socks that dried on the rocks. Nine head of cattle, taken in battle, ten is for metric, so asymmetric, eleven the tanners minding their manners, twelve is a dozen, though not my cousin, thirteen unlucky, and in Kentucky, fourteen two sevens, shout to the heavens, fifteen be three fives and we’re still alive, sixteen is sweeter, more so than Peter. Line count: 16 Internal rhymes For Express It In Eight, 12.09.23 Prompt: Write a poem consisting of two eight-line stanzas. |