Writing With Rhythm

•July 14, 2013 • Leave a Comment

I am trying to have a greater focus on rhythm and meter in my poetry. Hope you enjoy it!

Yours Truly,

                 Poetofmidnight

 

Childhood Wind

My lollipop lips bounce off rays of sun.

They kiss the daisy scented grass and pine.

They sip the sky and taste blue summer fun.

 

My dark hair jumps through licorice rainbows,

And its silk ends race to a pot of gold.

Their colors change while seasonal winds blow.

 

Now my mouth brings dry cracks of smiles.

Such tragedy peering back in time.

Maybe I might thwart thoughts for some while.

 

Raining through memories in a squall,

Tires me till my legs are rough wood.

Greatness changes as leaves of the fall.

 

Do not dare let time blow far off.

Love now; kindle a passion soft.

 

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•May 10, 2013 • Leave a Comment

“Poetry is the human condition in its most beautiful and hideous form.”

Sincerely,

                Poet of Midnight

 

 

 

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To Boston:

•April 17, 2013 • Leave a Comment

“May many hearts unify as one in strength, hope, and faith.”

 

–In dedication to those who endured the Boston tragedy–

 

Sincerely,

         Poet of Midnight

Out of the shadows…

•April 14, 2013 • Leave a Comment

All of you probably thought that I was not coming back, but alas, I have not forgotten about this blog. Different circumstances in life have kept me away but I am gaining control now. Although I typically do poetry, I thought I would start off with some inspirational quotes that have been soaring through my head. They can be quite powerful, in just a matter of a few words. I am very happy to be back in this blogosphere.

“Flesh will fade, but do not let time wrinkle the depth of your soul.”

Sincerely,

           Poet of Midnight

 

 

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In thoughts about the season

•December 24, 2012 • Leave a Comment

I will continue to apologize for my bouts of lengthy abseneses. However, I am back now and ready to get back into publishing on a weekly basis. I was thinking about winter and love and they turned into this haiku. Happy Holidays Bloggers!

Winter Love

Snow collapses on

this frosted, icy cavern

that is my lone heart.

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The sound of it.

•October 25, 2012 • Leave a Comment

It’s fasinating how sounds can invoke emotions and images. “The Word Plum” by Helen Chasin is a good example; her poem helped inspire this next one that I wrote. Go here to read Chasin’s poem if interested:  http://people.tribe.net/sedonadance/blog/b3c7d309-4667-4863-aa24-2eeb30eef88c

The Word Poetry is Bewitching

 

Penalized  on picking poor rhyme;

Provoked to take the pen and toss it out the window and

quit and invent my own sonnet.

 

Perhaps I will pitch an idea that might catch some geniune

attention. Something without pickled posies of words;

fathoming phrases that are not stone cold to putting my feelings

in ink.

 

They bleed black on the paper fumbled and jumbled in

a puzzle; pieces flipped vertical and horizontal; looking out for a bitter peace

to put this poem to rest.

 

 

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•October 22, 2012 • 2 Comments

There is a certian control that poetry takes over on you when you write it; you cannot put down the pen before it is finished; whether it be your will or its will. It is  a disease; with no cure, then again, would you want to be cured?

 

The Poet’s Fever

The brow drips drops of the soul’s squinted eyes that try to see through the flames;

eyes shot with veins reddened and threaded throughout; enflamed from the fatigue;

They.

never.

sleep.

A feverish breath clings to the ideas

of love,

of hate,

of sorrow.

Burning up to the touch; hot from the words;

etched on the paper; black ink smoke smeared;

nauseated from the passion that spews at will and stirs in the belly to bring  an

emotional embodiment that expresses

mind,

body,

and spirit.

(in single, cookie cutter words

that flow out like the whistling wind through the

lungs of the heart).

Mind manipulation that haunts the dreams;

but brings no nightmares.

 

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