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 |  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. |
| Division The poor man is described as impecunious; we assume that he is never studious and often we label him pecunious while declaring him anything but genius. And so with a load of Latin euphemisms we observe the man through some prisms and pretend we don’t see the great schism between his life and ours that’s arisen. Line count: 8 Rhymed aaaa bbbb For Express It In Eight, 01.10.24 Prompt: Impecunious. |
| Crystal She flicks the glass with a fingernail, rings out a sound both clear and bright, a single note that dies reluctantly, a lone angel voice receding in the air. She runs a perfect finger round the rim, it sings with crystal tone extended and, glass aloft, it fractures light through honey golden liquid. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 01.09.24 Prompt: Crystal. |
| The Unbearable Lightness of Being How to weigh a life? On what manner of scales could existence be placed to find its weight? The way becomes the method by which we demonstrate the absurdity of the task. And this is before we switch to consider our ability or otherwise to bear this conundrum, the title having maintained its possibility. If a thing is unbearable, how do we survive it? There appears to be no answer. Quod Erat Demonstrandum (one way to show off my knowledge of Latin) or, as I prefer it, Quite Easily Done. Line count: 8 (the indented line is counted as part of the previous line) Form: Experimental. The idea is that, instead of being bound by meter, I ignore it and concentrate on rhymes within the text, breaking the lines where rhymes occur. Two things become apparent immediately. One is that conscious interference is required to ensure that lines do not become too long (I thought anything more than five or six would be a bit excessive). The necessity to insert intentional rhymes at reasonable intervals, affects the direction the argument takes and how it’s expressed. Secondly, it becomes necessary to ignore near rhymes if the opposite problem is to be avoided - lines being broken too often and making the poem very short indeed. Ideally and if there were no set line limit, any block of text should be capable of this treatment. Is it poetry? Only if the words used are already poetic, in which case it’s defined as prose poetry. For Express It In Eight, 01.08.24 Prompt: The Unbearable Lightness of Being. |
 Eye Time A staring contest, eye to eye, unblinking concentration ‘gainst human weakness, mild and shy, a proud determination. And so does time itself tick by, in silent conflagration their frailty in this belied, regretting instigation. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab abab For Express It In Eight, 01.06.24 Prompt: As per illustration. |
| The Whale and the Kipper A whale and a kipper were the best of friends (for all who love whales, this will make amends) ev’rywhere that whale went, the kipper went too (I’ve no guarantee that this story is true) and vice versa, but one day the kipper’s alone, (now be ready for this - you might want to groan) when asked re his friend of massive great flipper he shrugs and replies, “I’m not my blubber’s kipper!” Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 01.05.23 Prompt: Video of men in boats kissing a whale. |
| Fantasy Honk if you see unicorns, fly south with skeins of geese, engage with those by dragons born and ask the wind to cease. It’s all a world of make-believe where wishful thinking reigns, and your desire this world to leave, and so escape your chains. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 01.04.24 Prompt: Honk if you see unicorns. |
| Thunder When the sky grumbles with distant thunder only the cat seems to care; yet overhead rips the sky asunder, all of our fears are laid bare. That almighty bang makes us jump and heart stops a second or two; we drop to the floor with a thump and wonder if this time we’re through. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 01.03.24 Prompt: Thunder. |
| The Sunny Side When hope is gone, then all is lost, and I’m not lost, so perhaps I’ve won. The pessimist can still have hope, and so can cope, the blues resist. Line count: 8 Rhymed abba For Express It In Eight, 12.02.24 Prompt: Write a poem that is optimistic and hopeful. |
| Closet Here amongst the skeletons all my secrets play, waiting in the dark for their swift decay. Silently they struggle to disappear one day, yet their hope is futile; their whitened bones will stay. Line count: 8 Rhymed abcb dbeb For Express It In Eight, 01.01.24 Prompt: Closet. |
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