Etheree on Yearning...

Today's challenge: to write a poem in the form of a review. You can review either animate or inanimate things, real places or imaginary places. You can write in the style of an online review (think Yelp) or something more formal that you might find in a newspaper or magazine. (I imagine that bad reviews of past boyfriends/girlfriends might be an easy way to get into this prompt, though really, you can “review” anything in your poem, from summer reading lists for third graders to the idea of the fourth dimension).

A Conversation with My Brain!

Um, well....

I am not sure about this. a review you say? ~turns head to look around, hoping to see someone else looking a little confused~ Not what I was expecting. Although these prompts generally are anything I expect. If I knew what to expect then I clearly wouldn't have an challenge in this particular challenge, right? I am not sure what to write about and since today is Y for the A to Z Challenge, I am even more put out.

I am not pouting!

I know it is optional, but I ALWAYS do the prompt. ~mumbles~ Okay, yes, I did choose to skip two of the prompts, but that was because of time and traveling and stuff....Finer! You're right brain! I can choose to NOT write the prompt, but that would be a waste of a chance to prove me wrong (well that part of my brain that doubts).

You're right, I need to write a review style poem. I need to stretch my muscles, push the boundaries. A writer writes! And so, I will write. And because I don't do anything small I am writing an ETHEREE. A poem that has 10 lines, each line has an increasing number of syllables, starting at 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. An even greater challenge is a double etheree using the same formula: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Check out Shadow Poetry for a great poetry resource.

 This is a review of some of the thoughts that process through my head when writing poetry. It is about as close as I can figure and I think it works on its own level.

Y is for Yearning

Mind's a Yearnin'

Yearn--

I do

want some praise,

acknowledgement

for a job well done--

doing things diversely

or trying something new like

writing some triple tetractys

(I think that is eight syllables, right?)

I am always trying to strive for it.

Never am content to be average,

I will formulate a more thorough poem

with this day drawing to a timely close

it is that much more important

that I write  my words with care

even though I always

I still feel a yen,

a yearning to

write the best,

worth praise--

Poem.

Bonus: I thought that I would share some of my older poetry with my Poet Musketeers.

For my Athos: a limmerick (it is really lame), but it's a present for you on the eve of the end of NaPoWriMo and A to Z 2015.

What are things that are furry
with ears done up in a hurry
Lasting only two minutes
that’s definitely finite
So much for all that scurry.

For my Aramis: a love poem from my early college days, circa 2000. Since you write of love with such a passion, I thought you would appreciate this.

her touch

that which I have seen in dreams, stares at me this evening
her eyes glow uncertain, they seem tainted with tears
I wish to hold her
ease the pain that has plagued her
hazel eyes for so long
soft and gentle like the slow creeping ivy vines she twists around me
finding my weakness
but not that it would choke me, its grasp is far too gentle
calming
do I love her?
that never occurred to me
do I love her?
the touch that knows she's there
that she cares
does she love me?
patient hands that caress my tired head
my wretched soul, against her angelic one
how do I know?
do I love her?
never before until now have I known
can this love be real?
does she love me?
maybe I'm just dreaming again
but she still stands there, under lights of blue and gray
do I love her?
Yes I think I do...


For my D'artagnen: a poem of passion from my early days.  I think this was in my Dragonlance books days. I do hope you enjoy.

Blood Brothers

Holes in our mind
Nothing gets in
Frozen eardrums
Bleed through.

We don’t see it in time,
My guess is as good as yours.
You’re timid
I’m fearless,
Does that make us both cowards?

Stranded on beaches
Bare-boned to the world,
Wounds hide only what’s left of our pride.

I can’t take it
How can you?

Never see
What you seem to see.

My wish,
No harm to you,
But you push back,
Your spiny ridges poke through
And my sore flesh is bruised--
My Brother.