St. Louis!

Cougar*

young men--boys, really
extreme energy explodes
exponentially

these crossroads
between wrong and right
there are no high roads

so trite
consort crisis
weary of polite

immature bliss
physical perfection
hurts to dismiss

daydream defection
noiseless screams
phantasmal selection

sunbeams
bright and gullible
giving off steam
nothing but trouble

*The Urban Dictionary defines a cougar as "a 35+ year old female who is on the "hunt" for a much younger, energetic, willing to do anything male."

This poem started out as a terza rima, which is poetry written in three-line stanzas (or “tercets”) linked by end-rhymes patterned aba, bcb, cdc, ded, efe, etc. There is no specified number of stanzas in the form, but poems written in terza rima usually end with a single line or a couplet rhyming with the middle line of the last tercet. However, as you can see, my last stanza is definitely not a single line or couplet. So my poem is kind of a terza rima, but, technically....not really.

'N' Words

In a nutshell--
I am neurotic
Navigating
neural pathways
networking with
negative notions
How can I stay
neutral?
Where is my
nirvana?
Naked, naive,
dressed in this
napkin thin
negligee
my necklace is a
noose
Come closer--
n e a r e r--
I'm ready to
negotiate

Related Posts:
'A' Game
The 'F' Bomb

Blogger's Delight

Join with me in congratulating
Saadia Ali Aschemann (Girly_Girl--THAT'S MEEEE)
Diane Dorce' (Mizrepresent)
R. Fitzgerald (Mega Rich)
April C. Hayes (Literary Felonies)
D.R. Johnson (Dave @ Wandering Ether)
Cordenia Paige (CAPcity)
Torrance Stephens (All-Mi-T @ Raw Dawg Buffalo)
Cedric Harris - Editor (Ced it Meant it)
Denea Marcel - Cover Artist (Denea)
B-Side Artist:
Mr. Ash (BygPowis)
Mr. Jones (iamrj)
Ms. McCrary (Xcentric Pryncess)
Ms. Tery (MysTery)
Mr. Smith (Don)
This project has been in the works since early this year
and is finally coming to fruition. To check out excerpts of four of
the six stories or to purchase an advanced copy
go to the Bloggers Delight Book site.

Inspiration*

In between midnight and morning
my words wake me
traveling through
slumber to sight

I taste thoughts as my eyes open
spying the clock
next to my bed
angry numbers

In my mind's many rooms, words weave
into poems
I say only
where is my pen

*This is an example of a "minute poem." Minute poems are 12-lines, consisting of 60 syllables, with a syllabic line count of 8,4,4,4,8,4,4,4,8,4,4,4. Technically, the form should have rhyming couplets--but I just couldn't do it. I've also heard some people insist on this form being written in a strict iambic meter...again, this was just impossible for me. Sticking to the right number of syllables was hard enough. I was trying to describe one intense moment--an actual minute--when words wake me up and I am compelled to start writing poetry.

Fine Line

conscious--subliminal
love--hate
cop--criminal
sinner--saint
trite--seminal
brilliant--great
rude--cynical
learned--innate
intimate--clinical
crooked--straight