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 |    A log of the magnificent journey across the vast sea of my imagination. |
 A log of our magnificent journey. |
| Stephen King once said, "The road to hell is paved with adverbs," with which I concur, because they do not speak forcefully enough. |
| Treasured memories of home return, again and again, every one a slice of life accumulated through the years, stored away in the heart's attic, until pandemic strikes and we need reinforcement by engaging happier moments during this time of uncertainty. Notes on the Acrostic form of poetry ▼ |
| Here comes the rain, delivering its boon on sultry summer afternoon, as clouds attempt to drown the gaudy rooster weather vane, while torrents cascade down my window pane. Notes on the Star Sevlin form of poetry ▼ |
| The earth becomes a canvas for Mother Nature's art when Heaven pours its bounty upon the ground and then brushes flower garden with lots of sunshine, 'til sprouts of daffodils and pansies abound. She paints my yard in vibrant green, gold, and magenta, bejeweled with resplendent morning dew drops, viewed with pleasure from my perch in back porch rocking chair while savoring scrumptious cherry lollipops. Notes on the Doha form of poetry ▼ |
| thunderclouds parade en masse ambulances rush this way and that sirens scream cacophony overwhelms preacher's sermon of hope Notes on the Japanese Gogyohka form of poetry ▼ |
| Windsurfers glide across tidal surge, riding beam, chasing demon, redeeming all their toil with a little fun. Windsurfers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvCtUP0K_bU |
Originally written for March, 2020, round of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest"  , using the words: music, lonely, miles, crowd, fade, stage, empty, lights. "My entry for March" Lonely Miles From town to town, we travel to play our music, as the star of Hope guides our Odyssey along the winding road up hill and down vale. Every show drives us deeper into the dream of fame and fortune that is sure to follow, as long as we keep believing in our fans. All these lonely miles lead to another crowd. Year after year, we have chased this dream. Forsaking logic from friends and family, we take the stage to sing songs we have written and soak in the admiration of our fans, until the songs are sung, lights fade, and stage goes empty. Then, we pack our gear into the bus, crank it up, and head out down another highway to another town, where we do it all over again. All these lonely miles lead to another crowd. Addicted to that surge we get when the lights go up, we'll keep traveling and playing from gig to gig, as long as the flame keeps burning in our hearts. Away from family and friends for so long, band members serve as surrogates when needed-- brothers and sisters with common cause. All these lonely miles lead to another crowd. Author's note: 23 lines of Bop poetry, as described and demonstrated in the following link: http://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/3235/ |
| Snowflakes fall at night, shout out "Good morning!" next day. Shoveling wet snow becomes my fitness program. Fetch my liniment to quiet screaming muscles, pushed to their limit by exercise protraction. Let the creativity flow from your soul!  Dave "The Poet's Place " |
 You look like you are famished in tattered loose fit coat. I give you my heart for sustenance in dark times without hope. Septet: http://www.poetrybase.info/forms/002/247.shtml |
| Swallows chatter, build their nests, church bells chime, around the square, while I sip cappuccino in San Juan Capistrano Notes on the Korean Kasa form of poetry ▼ |
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