Because My Brain is Fried…

My laptop got to go on a buisness trip to Cincinnati, though it left me behind. ‘Tis the reason I have not written as of late. Our other computer is not in a place where I can work on it and keep an eye on my wascally wabbits that hop about the place. 🙂 I would write something grand, but my brain is fried as I have been working today to catch up on my poetry class. I shall, instead, torture you with my writing of today (in each case we were taught the form mentioned below the title and asked to write a poem according to the prompt):

(we were told to write a 3-5 quatrains about values)
Acquiescence
(a kyrielle)

My words soar into empty air,
I know that He is listening there.
“Grant me the faith to trust in Thee,
Thou knowest what is best for me,”

When all alone, in dark I fear;
I feel His tender presence near.
“Give me strength,” is my breathless plea.
“Thou knowest what is best for me.”

I cannot see the end is nigh,
“Thy will be done,” I softly cry.
Harder words there will never be,
“Thou knowest what is best for me.”

When trials I have overcome
And fearsome battles I have won,
A subtle change helps me to see
Thou knowest what is best for me.

A soft embrace to say, “I care,”
I know that He has heard my prayer.
His gentle love has taught that He
Will always know what’s best for me.

(we were asked to write this one about the state of affairs and to use our imagination…)
Housewife’s Lament
(blues sonnet)

My house was immaculate yesterday,
No toys or dirt marred my house yesterday.
All that cleanliness has been swept away.

In just one second, the blink of an eye,
I barely had time to flutter my eye,
My home turned into a disheveled sty.

Dishes are piled, overflowing the sink,
With just one meal, they’re engulfing the sink.
I think the laundry is starting to stink.

Toys scattered, forgotten, across the floor.
Fractured limp cheerios cling to the floor.
My impeccable house is clean no more.

My children, likely, will start to complain
When asked to maintain this humble domain.

(asked to write on part of our everyday routine)
Bedtime
(a sedoka)

Butterflies kiss your
Cheeks at night, their feathery
Wings mingle with pale moonlight.
I slip unbidden
To your room and brush my face
Against sweet slumbering eyes

(asked to write about a facet of our lives)
Revelry
(a dorsimbra)

I flex my fingers ready to pounce on
Ivory keys. My children gather round
Me. Full of zealous fervor they are drawn,
Instruments in hand, to the joyful sound.

Crash! Bang!
To anyone nearby
The cacophony
Assaults their ears.

But I hear no bedlam, as the joyous
Music wraps my soul into a cocoon
Of pleasure. They dance around the room as
I flex my fingers ready to pounce on.

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1 Comment

Filed under Poetry, Writing

One response to “Because My Brain is Fried…

  1. Deb

    Awesome! You’re a super poet!

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