Passion For Poetry
Last week I took a walk down nostalgia lane by posting poems from the PAD (poem a day) challenge I took a couple of years ago, and this week I'm posting a few more. :-)
From Day 15. Take the title of a poem you like, change it, and write a new poem.
How Do I Procrastinate?
How do I procrastinate? Let me count the ways.
I procrastinate to the depth and breath and height
My soul can reach, when feeling lethargic
For the ends of Boredom and ideal Laziness.
I procrastinate to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by neon and halogen-light.
I procrastinate freely, as men strive for Progress;
I procrastinate purely, as they turn from Television.
I procrastinate with a passion put to use
In my old excuses, and with my childhood’s justification
. I procrastinate with an energy I seemed to lose
When faced with work, – I procrastinate with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if the Muse choose,
I shall continue to procrastinate until death.
(My version of How Do I Love Thee, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
From Day 16. Write a poem about a colour
You think of me, a vow once made
for weather fair, so it’s portrayed.
An arc of colour blended well
I reach from Heaven down to Hell.
Seven colours in my bow,
my shimmer sets the sky aglow
. Red, the first, the outer rim,
stain of passion, anger, sin.
Orange, the next, the hue of fire,
flamboyance, warning and desire.
Caution comes with yellow’s line,
it brings the warmth of pure sunshine.
Nature’s green is next in view,
sign of hope but envy too.
Blue so icy, cold and calm,
the shade of sadness, winter’s psalm.
Indigo, the great dispute.
Newton’s claims were oft refute.
And last the mystic violet, hue
of harmony and kingship too.
You’ll find me when the weather clears
after the rain has shed its tears.
Trapped in a prism too, am I
released by light, I never die.
From Day 18. Write about an interaction of some kind.
Cats Playing Chase
You are your mother’s son,
but not her favorite one;
yet when she wants to play,
to chase and run away,
she’ll stalk you through the room
and watch you as you groom
and when the moment’s right
she’ll pounce, and then take flight.
The race is on, the track secure
oh, wait, a chair, a slight detour.
Over, under, ‘round and ‘round
up the stairs and then back down.
Turn about is fairest play
it’s your turn now, so race away.
You get too close, she turns to hiss
and instead gives you a kiss.
She holds you down with just a paw
and cleans you up from tail to jaw.
Have a nap, recharge and then,
you’ll race around the house again.
From Day 19. Write an angry poem.
You toy with me
giving me glimpses
of what might be
and then withhold
the words I need.