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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1236257
by Dave
Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #1236257
A log of the magnificent journey across the vast sea of my imagination.
A sig awarded for winning "The Anything Goes Poetry Contest"

A log of our magnificent journey.

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July 18, 2019 at 3:56pm
July 18, 2019 at 3:56pm
Diamonds in night sky
buy romantic dreams,
themes to fantasize,
lies that never die.

Notes on Raay (or Rei) form of poetry:

June 25, 2019 at 5:56pm
June 25, 2019 at 5:56pm
Sun rises, sun sets, tide comes in, and tide goes out.
Dolphins dance in surf and chase my worries away
while living on island time.
June 25, 2019 at 5:30pm
June 25, 2019 at 5:30pm
The smell of coffee, orange marmalade sunrise, and the meadowlark's song imbue my heart with happiness.
April 26, 2019 at 11:32am
April 26, 2019 at 11:32am
Word picture prompt

Stoically stalking,
Reaper roams banks of the Styx
with ax to spread woe.

Character in crape
cunningly creeping across
to cook his éclair

from frothing phobia
and fractious fingers of fear--
fee-fi-fo-fum. Yum!

Traipsing through the trees
to a tryst with victims lured
into his trusty traps.

Leave no doubt. There'll be
unalleviated grieving
on All Hallows Eve.
April 20, 2019 at 10:58am
April 20, 2019 at 10:58am
prompt picture blah blah

He climbs
his way to top
without a solid plan
to lay foundation for
the daily grind

goes 'round until
he's back where he began
to reap rewards of trudge

Poet's note
April 5, 2019 at 5:57pm
April 5, 2019 at 5:57pm
Petite young woman with curly blond hair
pulls up in front of Bates Motel
after long day on road.

Norman greets her with a shy smile
and extends warm welcome
before handing her
key to unit number six.

She finds the room comforting
with spotless furnishings and homestyle quilts,
but her main concern is a soothing hot shower
and a good night's sleep.

She disrobes,
steps into tub,
closes curtain,
turns on the tap,
and lets hot water
flow over her body.

curtain is thrust open,
and slasher commences
savage attack,
as blood spurts all over wall
and runs down drain
in gurgling vortex,
which matches the sounds
coming from her throat.

Next morning,
room number six
is once again spotless,
as it awaits the next unsuspecting guest.

This scene is repeated


and over

and over again

in a futile attempt to satisfy
Norman's psychotic hunger,
like the Venus flytrap,
ready to feed again.

Artist Unknown

April 4, 2019 at 5:30pm
April 4, 2019 at 5:30pm
Some words
begin to drive
emotive flow from heart
to page through poet's pen
until relief
is found
in core
of pensive thought
with kick of apple tart
to bring creative juice
where spirit's feast
is found.

Author's note: The Cyclus is a twelve-line treasure gleaned from Viola Berg's Pathways for the Poet. The name is reference to the cycling syllable counts, as described in the following link: http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/forums/topic/1001-visual-verse-or-shape-verse/#c... .
March 13, 2019 at 11:51am
March 13, 2019 at 11:51am
Welcome aboard the good ship “Fantasy,”
where words become ballistic thrusters,
boosting us
beyond the bounds of reason’s gravity
on a trajectory
to deepest inner space.

Without knowing why,
we must travel.

Secured by bonds of universal uniqueness,
we rocket into unknown zones to find
insight and understanding.

When the words flame out and fall away,
inertia propels our adventure
into the outer reaches of

We fly across a universe
of imagined meanings
to discover truth
inside our soul.

Subconscious phantoms explore those dark caverns
deep into the night
to shed a light of awareness
upon God’s secrets.

In reading and composing, we learn
lessons to help us navigate
through rocky shoals and
propel the rocket of life
into the future.

Inspiration IS the response,
as creativity begins to flow--
tumbling and rumbling
in spite of all the grumbling and stumbling.

Beyond the price of pence,
the true reward is

36 lines of Free Verse poetry.
March 9, 2019 at 11:08am
March 9, 2019 at 11:08am
When the sun goes down,
the curtain goes up on Satan's nocturnal operetta,
where spirits of the night
join their voices in a chorus of cacophonic extravaganza,
as miasmic vapors
billow forth across the haunted landscape.

Creepy crawlers,
attracted by the pandemonium echoing
around the mausoleum,
among the tangled vines of ancient blasphemies,
slithering, gyrating, and swaying
in a mesmerizing ballet
choreographed by Satan himself,
until the rising sun
drops the curtain of light
on the stage of this Bacchanalian festival.
March 8, 2019 at 4:33pm
March 8, 2019 at 4:33pm
blue jay contemplates
delicious golden banquet
spring's lavish bounty

163 Entries · *Magnify*
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1236257