Poetic Forms Writing Prompt #5

Poetic Forms

In my MFA, we experiment with forms to flex our creative muscles. Typically, I like to write free verse, which is the only type of poem I feel comfortable writing. However, I have also learned to value pushing myself, creatively. I have written a sestina and loved it. And, I have written an acrostic poem, which yielded better results than anticipated.

An abecedarian is a poem that uses all of the letters in the alphabet as the first letter in the line.

At first, it felt a little elementary, but I used a mature theme to shake things up a bit. I think it really worked. Below is my attempt.

Do Not Get Drunk on Wine

A letter from my father

Beware of the evils of drink

Cautions the tragic

“Do not get drunk on wine”

Effusive, ridiculous obstructions

Finally sober

Gone forever stone-carved

Heaven, a relief

“I won’t get drunk on wine”

Just get me out of here

Kicking, ear piercing screams, I won’t

Leave you

My family means everything

Not more than that drink over there

Open your eyes!

Protect what is yours!

Quiet my mind

Rest desiring

Stillness

Tragedy

Unforgiven

Visceral

Wait

Yells

Zilch

I would love to see your acrostic poems posted here. Play with themes, word choice and line breaks.

You go!

Advertisements

30 thoughts on “Poetic Forms Writing Prompt #5

  1. Oh, Susan, we will have so much fun with this! We play the ABC game in the car, Chuck and I, and we did it with my 17 year old. It’s a great way to pass the time, and always ends in laughter. I’m looing forward to trying this form of poetry. See you Thursday!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Okay…just because I’m feeling bold today (and not because I write poetry) I tried it for fun and mind expansion. It’s about the act of writing a love letter to one’s body that was a prompt. You are right, it did expand my mind.

    Love Letter to a Self

    Awkward
    Bashful—blind!
    Commence anyway.
    Don’t peep
    Even,
    Furtively.
    Give the chance: your eyes will catch up.
    Heartache?
    Is.
    Joy? Farthest from what this is.
    Know nothing, note nothing, but, oh, you
    Luscious you
    Much grown from zygote to woman
    None are perfect, all are worn or broken.
    Open
    Pandora’s box
    Quake to love you? No. You are
    Resplendent
    Sublime
    Transcendent too.
    Under all the
    Vanities
    Women
    Xerox and scatter
    Your body is unconquered and cries for your
    Zeal

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Okay, here is my very first poem. This was kind of fun.

    Trigeminal Neuralgia

    Agony sneaks in
    Bolts of lightening
    Cerebellum cacaphony
    Defining days so differently.
    Exactly how, and
    For how long can
    Gaggles of geese unfurl their wings so
    Horrendously in confinement
    Intruding where ideas once formed
    Jettisoning rational thought
    Killing minutes, hours, months because they can?
    Learning new vocabulary
    Microvascular decompression
    New terms offered
    Optimistically by those who do their best to stop the
    Pain. Fight the panic. Find the formula.
    Quantifying tablets, qualifying times of day
    Restricting wine and food and fun.
    Succumbing once again to
    Tympanic song cycles
    Usually reserved for concert halls while
    Virgin
    Wrinkles form
    Xeriscapes on arid brow.
    Yearning for the life before the
    Zealous little beast.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. OMG! Good, GOOD poems here!!!! Susan, Tonia, and Crystal…just…dayum. Love the wordplay and feel of these structures rolling around on my tongue and teeth, the resonances in my ear, the images in my mind’s eye, the hearth thrums.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Carolyn Studer says:

    After Reading Mary Daily

    At day’s end,

    Brave women

    Catch radical words

    Dismissing men from the planet.

    Ecofeminism, Elizabeth

    Fiorenza, Mary Daily,

    God herself, the whole earth,

    Healthy with laughter.

    In deep caves of mirth, with

    Justice, beyond all

    Knowing, the mystery, the

    Lambent moon

    Making circles on the water.

    Nothing makes sense,

    Only revolution, complete, total,

    Patriarchy smashed, flowers growing

    Quietly everywhere,

    Renewing the water supply,

    Saying glad yeses,

    Tasting the salt of the lovers mowed

    Under when they weren’t afraid to

    Voice their defiance, and

    Wed what was sacred,

    Xenophobia a sort of fire water they consumed

    Year after year, before

    Zenia, before it was necessary to hope.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. All right. This is some of the worst crap ever…but I decided that that actually suited my purpose and absolutely fit the random and rapidly changing tenor of my recent professional experiences. I was a little overwrought. Lol.

    Institutional Memory

    Aggression in its passive state,

    bullying with a political gloss,

    calcifying in a practice that’s stale,

    deepening roots in decaying moss.

    Edifying conversation may not be

    found here; we like to grind friends into the

    ground here,

    hit them while they’re down here.

    In point of fact, one can remember a time

    just a few years ago, when

    kinship was king, or so it seemed; not

    long in the past, we were

    members of a team, and while

    not without quibbles and squabbles at times,

    on the whole we were friends and co-

    pilgrims in the

    quest for kids’ minds.

    Rest assured that things have now changed; it feels a

    solo task on the whole, a taxing

    task with fewer rewards; on the whole an

    unfortunate

    vilification for naught,

    wholly wasted. But

    X marks the spot for

    You, you

    Zealots of stupid, the zeal of the petty.

    You can have it.

    X me? You can try. You can

    wield the weapons of

    underdeveloped humanity, a

    toxic torrent of

    sophomoric snipes,

    ridiculous rumors,

    quotidian quibbles and equivocation,

    puerile picking, poking,

    obstreperous obtuseness.

    Now, however, it won’t work;

    my flanks are guarded by

    lions, by a lookout who loves me somehow,

    keepers of the stable of wit.

    Just blessed, I am.

    I was here before most of you, and

    however badly you resist, I’m

    going to stay and

    focus on the right things, and

    eschew

    drama. You can

    chew me up

    but I won’t dissolve.

    Amen.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Do you want to copy posts from other sources rewrite them in seconds and post on your website or
    use for contextual backlinks? You can save a lot
    of writing work, just type in gogle:
    rheumale’s rewriter

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s