Archive for meter

Poem: Drowned in sound

Posted in My Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on March 1, 2010 by echostains

I wrote this poem a few days ago.   I tried to get an unusual rhythm going with the meter.  The subject is abstract of course.   It concerns the nagging doubts and fears that you don’t want to discuss, address  or give name to.  It’s as if by doing so, they may become more real.  Though by suppressing them it makes them even more nebular and scary.  You can’t win really.  But the point is that they don’t win.

A Crab Nebula - or a Black Hole

  

I start to sieve silt from my crowded house

There’s too many ghosts in this soft machine

They vie for attention

And beg for a mention

I feel myself helpless to contravene

 

 The constant drip drip of these nagging thoughts

 They  won’t let me be – they just want their say

They whisper and rustle

They bluster and bustle

  I try to submerge and  keep them at bay

 

They beg to address me – engage me in chat

 They just want importance. They want some form

 They long to break free

 To impersonate  me

 But can I hold out and weather this  storm?

 

 They quite rightly sense that I can’t set them loose

 They  pinch and creep up especially at night

 I keep  drowning them out

 As they scream and they shout

 I won’t let them out and cross into the light.

©L. M. Roberts

 

My other poetry experiments;

Haiku: Three for March

Her Facebook has it

Finding the words

Poem: Last Impression

Posted in My Poetry with tags , , , on February 25, 2010 by echostains

I’m beginning to enjoy these little poetry experiments.  I might be the only one, but I don’t care!   I like playing about with meters and seeing what happens.  Here’s one that sprang up, probably influenced from writing about that poor old ice man.

 

There’s a chill in his gaze 

Just a frosty hint

And the breath from his mouth

Smells of Glacier mint

And his earlobes are red

As they cringe to his head

As they freeze what was said

Like a ghosts  footprint.

© L. M. Roberts

My other poetry experiments;

Haiku: Three for March

Drowned in sound

Her Facebook has it

Finding the words