Morning folks...just trying out these new poetic forms I came across yesterday. You can see the description of some of them in the previous post from last night. Shabbat Shalom!
(legends) Moments in Blues#1
The sound of clashing dissonant trumpets and raw jazz tacets invade the perfect quietness
of his reverie…hands clasped in a death-grip around a brandy snifter, he moves toward the
record-player and quickly turns the music down; now confronted with the melodies of his
own woes…he staggers toward the window; starring out.
(legends) Moments in Blues#2
Bathed today…bathed in convoluted memories of what I was in previous
existences. The blues of my mood had a way of vocalizing bending notes into the mic
of a hollow life; painting that dull ache I always carried. Tomorrow I’ll walk, staggerin’
reflections of heightened ‘us’ consciousness and reliving…whatever reality comes.
cinqku#1-3
1.
touched breath…
cold and dank;
u took feet and walk’d
length of pains trumpet…
…opera’d
2.
mornin’
hands poised, pores
bow…mouth sacred’s…
wordless…chant, eyes inhale
day-prayer
3.
composed…
i…aria…
down beat, high f #
…in yo voice of earth, close eyes…
sing me.
crystalline #1-3
1.
analog me, outdated screams…
just invade the out-winds-release me.
2.
crescendo, white mornin’s, rest on C.
…song of day, as sung in my yawns.
3.
struggle mars my realities’ skin…
activist frm the time i entered.
zip (foroperamoments)
cantor my breath orchestra
i violin mad scenes of life.
zip (marriedmoments)
listen to Swahili words
we africa and bein’ real baaaaad.
zip (deeperinYah)
wash my soul and convert my hands…
immersion into Your ways.
zip#1
i torah i exhale raw need…
can’t tell what scribe blew in my blood.
cherita#1
he grappled with change…
smilin’ woe and sadness
his thoughts, crucifixions…
kneel..pray
tomb-thin prayers
man…in middle earth.
cherita (forsoulconverting)
change comes quickly…
previous me presently…
shed skin litters ground
no soothsaying to
raise the old up…
dead men stay dead
gembun#1
ears steeped in deafened songs…
rehearsed yesterdays
pain-yellow’d voice would chorus-i
cadence into now.
gembun#2
eyes rode his musculature...
priest’ed his image
pour’d mental oblations, my
hands; cups that would cry.
gembun
mornin’ moments for poetin.
slick fingers ‘cross keys
sanchez breathin’ tired desktop.
scribe deft images.
sii’bu (refutingerror)
to clean perspective.
stench of error- scrub
soapened words that un-stain lies…
added growth by ear
just torah whats been said, shake
the hair of those words freely
Maturity,
fragrance of choice.
sii’bu
Wagner…
approachin’ my days
the stature of valkyries
my stance. now things be
mild und leise immolatin’
the mundane for heroics
A lasting life conducted
by someone other than me.
sii’bu is real simple. its composed of either one word or one sentence link at the start with an inserted tanka as its middle and capped off by a final one word or one sentence link.
©2011/bloodspeaks
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