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(257)
by Dave
Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #1236257
A log of the magnificent journey across the vast sea of my imagination.
A sig awarded for winning "The Anything Goes Poetry Contest"

A log of our magnificent journey.

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April 24, 2020 at 4:46pm
April 24, 2020 at 4:46pm
#981932
Here comes the rain,
delivering its boon
on sultry summer afternoon,
as clouds attempt to drown
the gaudy rooster weather vane,
while torrents cascade down
my window pane.


Notes on the Star Sevlin form of poetry
April 17, 2020 at 7:13pm
April 17, 2020 at 7:13pm
#981344
The earth becomes a canvas for Mother Nature's art
         when Heaven pours its bounty upon the ground
and then brushes flower garden with lots of sunshine,
         'til sprouts of daffodils and pansies abound.

She paints my yard in vibrant green, gold, and magenta,
         bejeweled with resplendent morning dew drops,
viewed with pleasure from my perch in back porch rocking chair
         while savoring scrumptious cherry lollipops.


Notes on the Doha form of poetry
April 13, 2020 at 4:02pm
April 13, 2020 at 4:02pm
#980990
thunderclouds parade en masse
ambulances rush this way and that
sirens scream
cacophony overwhelms
preacher's sermon of hope


Notes on the Japanese Gogyohka form of poetry
March 24, 2020 at 6:21pm
March 24, 2020 at 6:21pm
#979076
Windsurfers glide
across tidal
surge, riding beam,
chasing demon,
redeeming all their toil with a little fun.



Windsurfers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvCtUP0K_bU
March 18, 2020 at 4:39pm
March 18, 2020 at 4:39pm
#978473
Originally written for March, 2020, round of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest, using the words: music, lonely, miles, crowd, fade, stage, empty, lights. "My entry for March"  

Lonely Miles

From town to town, we travel to play our music,
as the star of Hope guides our Odyssey
along the winding road up hill and down vale.
Every show drives us deeper into the dream
of fame and fortune that is sure to follow,
as long as we keep believing in our fans.

All these lonely miles lead to another crowd.

Year after year, we have chased this dream.
Forsaking logic from friends and family,
we take the stage to sing songs we have written
and soak in the admiration of our fans,
until the songs are sung, lights fade, and stage goes empty.
Then, we pack our gear into the bus,
crank it up, and head out down another highway
to another town, where we do it all over again.

All these lonely miles lead to another crowd.

Addicted to that surge we get when the lights go up,
we'll keep traveling and playing from gig to gig,
as long as the flame keeps burning in our hearts.
Away from family and friends for so long,
band members serve as surrogates when needed--
brothers and sisters with common cause.

All these lonely miles lead to another crowd.


Author's note: 23 lines of Bop poetry, as described and demonstrated in the following link: http://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/3235/
March 12, 2020 at 6:38pm
March 12, 2020 at 6:38pm
#977916
Snowflakes fall at night,
shout out "Good morning!" next day.
Shoveling wet snow
becomes my fitness program.

Fetch my liniment
to quiet screaming muscles,
pushed to their limit
by exercise protraction.



Let the creativity flow from your soul! *Cool*
Dave
"The Poet's Place
February 29, 2020 at 10:54am
February 29, 2020 at 10:54am
#976612
** Image ID #2211432 Unavailable **

You look like you are famished
in tattered loose fit coat.
I give you my heart
for sustenance
in dark times
without
hope.


Septet: http://www.poetrybase.info/forms/002/247.shtml
February 7, 2020 at 3:56pm
February 7, 2020 at 3:56pm
#975048
Swallows chatter, build their nests,
church bells chime, around the square,
while I sip cappuccino
in San Juan Capistrano


Notes on the Korean Kasa form of poetry
January 17, 2020 at 3:34pm
January 17, 2020 at 3:34pm
#973597
My doppelganger lurks
around ev'ry corner,
primed to zap ego trip
by showing pouting lip
whenever I must pass
in front of mirror glass.


Note
January 11, 2020 at 12:40pm
January 11, 2020 at 12:40pm
#973152
Inhaling crisp morning air
in rural field, where the corn
grows in rows, the prairie speaks
to me on a journey my soul seeks.

When breeze colors cheeks like rose,
Nature's spirit flows in creeks,
where three raucous crows debate
a range of critiques about our fate.


Notes on the Kloang form of poetry

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