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 The second of my collections of poems written for "Express It In Eight." |
| As usual these days, I choose blog format because it offers more space for the work. |
| Rat Race I must be up and gone by eight the rules require I not be late these timely deadlines are my fate the sprouts upon my daily plate. My life is measured out in bits no wonder that my brow is knit I serve the timepiece on the wall and heed its ev’ry beck and call. Line count: 8 Rhymed aaaa bbcc For Express It In Eight, 07.03.25 Prompt: None. |
| Roses Eighteen yellow roses came today but I seem to miss the things they say tomorrow they will die and fade away and you and I will find another way. I don’t know why they should be yellow the question is more thought than bellow but I retreat and let it mellow that’s me you see, a laid back fellow. Line count: 8 Rhymed aaaa bbbb For Express It In Eight, 07.01.25 No prompt. |
| Nautical Nonsense Sound eight bells and all is well Ancient mariner’s tale to tell Splice the mainbrace, tote that bale Thar she blows, the whitish whale. Steady as she goes, another tack Halfway there and we’ll sail right back All hands on deck and set the jib Poor old ship - she’s cracked a rib. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb For Express It In Eight, 06.30.25 Prompt: None. |
| Who Are You? Don’t call me a gadabout I’m really just a lad about the town. Perhaps a flibbertigibbet but not a Jiminy Cricket when down. Identity my entity. Line count: 8 Rhymed aab ccb dd For Express It In Eight, 06.29.25 Prompt: None. |
| Nautical Dream Eight bells on deck the ancient wreck turns in the fog we down our grog the Dutchman flies and the soul sighs with sails full filled the phantom stilled. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb, 4 syllables per line For Express It In Eight, 06.26.25 Prompt: None. |
| Pieces of Eight 2 Pieces of eight strewn in the mind minor and great all that we find. Thoughts at the time fresh in the morn both yours and mine greeting the dawn. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab, 4 syllables per line For Express It In Eight, 06.25.25 Prompt: None. |
| Song Without Sense Sing a song of eight pence and think of days gone by doesn’t have to make sense just get them wond’ring why When all the world’s a lollipop and clowns live in the sky the choice is either go or stop then roast or boil or fry. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 06.21.25 Prompt: None. |
| Perhaps In the land of the uncertain “Sure” is definitely not heard Everyone is a-flirtin’ Never trusting anyone’s word So they live in permanent flux Fickle from the day of their birth With maybes delivered in trucks The place I’m describing is Earth. Line count: 8 Rhymed abab For Express It In Eight, 06.18.25 Prompt: Write a poem about something you’re not sure of. |
| Homesick Lying in the hospital bed limited by pain and johnny familiar with the ceiling on ninety-fifth assessment Counting the hours and minutes until release to health and home dreading postponement of promise. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 06.17.25 Prompt: Write a poem about when time seems to crawl. |
| Ordinary The allure of the commonplace - the things that have no space, beneath our notice, called banal, and overlooked by all, these may seem so low and trifling, but give them time and thought, and they will speak of worlds beguiling, beyond whatever you sought. Line count: 8 Rhymed aabb cdcd For Express It In Eight, 06.16.25 Prompt: Write a poem about finding bliss from common things. |
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Dan is a poet; I can point out at least one of ID's songs that has a perfectly symmetrical syllable count. Ryan leaves more up to the skill of his voice...
