%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |    A log of the magnificent journey across the vast sea of my imagination. |
 A log of our magnificent journey. |
Voices from within battle over the concept of good and evil. |
| She woke last night beneath warm quilts in a strange flat. She woke last night and soon remembered frantic flight, escaping from the drunken rat. Her mom’s relief spilled out so that she woke last night. The sounds of pain still echoed in her tender ears-- the sounds of pain announcing fury’s harsh refrain because he’d had too many beers. Her mom endured, through all those years, the sounds of pain. They’re free at last. Away from that destructive life, they’re free at last. The bloodied lips are in the past. They’re free to live without the strife. He’ll have to find another wife. They’re free at last!  Author’s note: For those not familiar with the Rondelet form of poetry, a definition and more examples can be found at the following links: http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/forums/topic/1382-rondeau-family-of-forms-includ... http://members.optushome.com.au/kazoom/poetry/rondelet.html |
| Insensitive lout pouring macho gibberish into the gene pool. |
| I took the back road down to Tupelo, where fond memories with deep Southern roots and young boy's dreams flow through my weary soul. On a back porch swing down in Tupelo, sipping some iced tea, thinking of Elvis, I am channeling king of rock and roll. Note: The Tableau is a poetry form, invented by Emily Romano, constructed in stanzas of six lines with five syllables per line, as described and demonstrated in the following link: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/tableau.html |
| The idea of the negative makes me want to take a sedative. When someone says, “I can’t,” I always start to rant about taking one step at a time to make a successful climb. |
Solace of winter, where thoughts of summer romance float like butterflies. |
| My wife’s nagging me into the ground, and my IRA’s not very sound-- worst it’s ever been. All hell broke loose when my girl friend caught me messin' around. A witch’s brew and voodoo curses bring pestilence and rolling hearses. When friends start croakin’ ‘cause my mirror’s broken, it’s time to chant some lucky verses. 10 lines of sloppy Limerick |
| The ghost of Mister Poe whispers in my ear about the never-ending tale of his crow. Like a pair of young brothers who know no fear, we share another bottle of fine Bordeaux and fantasies grim as a funeral bier. Mystic visions give way to sweet afterglow. I think I shall savor one more round of cheer, before the dawn comes and he must sadly go. 8 lines Form is a split Strambotto Siciliano: http://www.thepoetsgarret.com/2013Challenge/form20.html#sic |
Gurgling mountain stream sparkles in summer swelter through prism of Haiku. ===== Japanese Haiku compressed visions with a twist You can't do just one. ===== Orange marmalade sunrise washes horizon to welcome new day. ===== Stars twinkle at night until they get washed away by tide of daylight. ===== Sultry summer night beneath rising crescent moon, crickets serenade. ===== Flowertown Festival When April showers feed azalea blossoms, people flock to see. https://www.facebook.com/YMCAFlowertownFestival/photos/a.380439631999123.85114.2... |
Ebbing tide unveils a trove of nautilus shells. When tide turns to flow, beachcombing ballerina bows to scoop and pirouettes. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
THE POEM
WHAT I LIKED
