Okay, we haven't had anything here in a while, so I'll post two acrostic poems I wrote, inspired by R. Lizard. Bear in mind they're the first acrostics I've ever attempted.
The first one was inspired by (seriously) this dress.
****
Cherry Girl
Cock the hip and toss the
Hair as I stride across the room;
Evoking retro, fever, bad girl.
Rarely does this me get
Revealed; when she does, you say oh
Yes.
*******
This one doesn't have a title yet, although I'm thinking about
"After".
Beyond the words, past the syllables’ edges (listen; this
Is for you, you said), murmurs blossom deep inside. Lighting
This fire, warming this ice-white flesh, making it
Tingle as it slowly comes to life: whispers, urgent and low,
Evoke pianissimo, largo, allegro, forte!
Rest.
Since these are memories (ghosts) of something
Which never happened, there is no
Explanation for notes still hanging in the air. No
Excuse makes sense of the repeated sharp
Twinge: phantom limb pain that lingers.
Steph, those are fabulous, and I have a particular ganglia-moving reaction to "SWEET". My father lost a leg to gangrene (diabetes, wrong medicine given) and that last line twisted a bit. Powerful, and wow. Well done.
Thanks, Deb! Your opinion means a lot to me. My small group liked them, too. I've been very unsure about them, because it's the first time I've tried this form; for that matter, it's the first time I've tried -- and *finished* -- any structured poem form (i.e., sestina, villanelle, pantoum).
Honey, they breathe. And I can pay no higher compliment to poetry; you can feel the tickle against the nape of the neck, sometimes it's light, sometimes it's hurricane (Michael Drayton is like that for me, "....shake hands forever...") but damn, they breathe.
Really, thank you SO much.
And now I go to bed; I'm working tomorrow as long as my pain level is decent. Surgery Tuesday, and then the parts need to heal.
I hope to get some good writing done with my time off; certainly not the first week, when I'll be very drugged, but I hope the second week will be less drug-intensive, so I can do some writing.
Hell, my generation claims to have done most of its writing while drugged.
You go sleep, girly. Soon the back will be back to normal.
Steph, lovely work, especially the second.
Thanks, Knut! I admit the first was just a fun little one, although I really like it. It's got some substance in it, but also a lot of fun, whereas the second one is all a bunch of tangle-y feelings.
I think I like the first better, but they are both great.I've only written structured poems for classes, and they were nothing to write home about. What makes an acrostic?
