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Thread: The Triolet Trail

  1. #1076
    Huh. kkbe's Avatar
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    Engulfs the landscape with a breath of fire;
    such are the dreams of our new toddler king:
    with hate and fear to fuel our funeral pyres,
    engulfs the landscape with a breath of fire
    beyond the pale. Such are his heart's desires:
    he takes it all, then destroys everything;
    engulfs the landscape with a breath of fire.
    Such are the dreams of our new toddler king.
    Last edited by kkbe; 02-05-2017 at 06:03 PM. Reason: :)
    From 'EFFIN ALBERT:
    “Take that thumb out of your mouth.”
    I open my eyes. Jerkface got a look on his face like I’m making him sick.
    I slide my thumb out, dry it with my shirt and stand up.
    “What is this, a goddamn Chinese fire drill? Sit the fuck down, Mike,” he says.
    I go, “No. You ain’t doing this to us.”
    Mom goes, “Michael honey.” Sounding thick already.
    “It’s okay, Mikie,” Albert says and I’m shaking my head ´cause it ain’t okay, not even a little bit okay.


    /kk's blog will return/

  2. #1077
    Imagine a story Thecla's Avatar
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    Such are the dreams of our new toddler king
    To let the world ring with his great ‘I am
    The fount from which all edicts spring’
    (Such are the dreams of our new toddler king)
    ‘To my feet, minions, your tributes bring’
    (Though in a rage he’ll fling them from his pram)
    Such are the dreams of our new toddler king
    To let the world ring with his great ‘I am!’
    Last edited by Thecla; 02-09-2017 at 12:53 AM. Reason: typo (it's always a typo)

  3. #1078
    Grand Duchess Ambrosia's Avatar
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    To let the world ring with his great ‘I am!’,
    he scourges the earth, the lamb, and the air.
    There isn't a group that he will not scam
    to let the world ring with his great ‘I am!’.
    Sycophants gather to join in his jam.
    He puts his heel on the poor in his care
    to let the world ring with his great ‘I am!’.
    He scourges the earth, the lamb, and the air.
    ..
    "The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark."
    Michelangelo

    "You don't need thick skin, you just need perseverance." leifwright


    ...

  4. #1079
    Pound cake. Perscribo's Avatar
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    He scourges the earth, the lamb, and the air
    with breath that reeks of wolfish consumption.
    In his tower so high, deaf to despair,
    he scourges the earth. The lamb and the air
    are his commodities; no longer shared.
    "This land is my land" - the fat presumption.
    He scourges the earth, the lamb, and the air
    with breath that reeks of wolfish consumption.
    Poetry classics. Masterfully kindled. Always 99¢.

  5. #1080
    Imagine a story Thecla's Avatar
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    With breath that reeks of wolfish consumption,
    It’s time to take stock and start out afresh:
    Fluoride and flossing don’t take much gumption.
    With breath that reeks of wolfish consumption,
    Cut back on booze – nor is it presumption
    To say eat far more veggies and less flesh.
    With breath that reeks of wolfish consumption
    It’s time to take stock, and start out afresh.

  6. #1081
    Pound cake. Perscribo's Avatar
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    It’s time to take stock and start out afresh.
    Your rhyme. Your seed. Your keen pentameter.
    Cells with resounding heart you must refresh.
    It’s time to take stock and start. (Out afresh
    of ideas, I stake what I enmesh,
    extend and shake for flakes of Demeter.)
    It's time to take. Stock and start out afresh
    your rhyme. Your seed: your keen pentameter.
    Last edited by Perscribo; 03-28-2017 at 09:34 AM. Reason: Sometimes you cant hear me because I am in parenthesis. - Steven Wright
    Poetry classics. Masterfully kindled. Always 99¢.

  7. #1082
    Pound cake. Perscribo's Avatar
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    Your rhyme, your seed, your keen pentameter
    takes valiant lead. In times of apathy
    remind naive goslings: do not peter
    your rhyme, your seed. Your keen pentameter
    draws the daisies broken stanzas deter.
    Color graying mountain sides gallantly.
    Your rhyme. Your seed. Your keen pentameter.
    Take valiant lead in times of apathy.
    Poetry classics. Masterfully kindled. Always 99¢.

  8. #1083
    Huh. kkbe's Avatar
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    "Let's resurrect this bad boy!" she whispered tentatively.


    Take valiant lead in times of apathy.
    Indeed, these are the times that try men's souls:
    turbulent times, 'alt-facts' twisted, and blatant fallacies.
    Take valiant lead in times of apathy;
    the reigns are loose (as are the man's own faculties).
    Stand up! As long as 45 controls,
    take valiant lead. In times of apathy,
    indeed, these are the times that try men's souls.


    From 'EFFIN ALBERT:
    “Take that thumb out of your mouth.”
    I open my eyes. Jerkface got a look on his face like I’m making him sick.
    I slide my thumb out, dry it with my shirt and stand up.
    “What is this, a goddamn Chinese fire drill? Sit the fuck down, Mike,” he says.
    I go, “No. You ain’t doing this to us.”
    Mom goes, “Michael honey.” Sounding thick already.
    “It’s okay, Mikie,” Albert says and I’m shaking my head ´cause it ain’t okay, not even a little bit okay.


    /kk's blog will return/

  9. #1084
    Huh. kkbe's Avatar
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    Indeed, these are the times that try men's souls
    and time is running out to make amends.
    But still we grouse, and spew our vitriol.
    Indeed. These are the times that try men's souls;
    instead of love, it's venom we extol.
    Our animus will kill us in the end;
    indeed, these are the times that try men's souls.
    And time is running out to make amends.
    Last edited by kkbe; 05-26-2017 at 06:18 AM. Reason: ;)
    From 'EFFIN ALBERT:
    “Take that thumb out of your mouth.”
    I open my eyes. Jerkface got a look on his face like I’m making him sick.
    I slide my thumb out, dry it with my shirt and stand up.
    “What is this, a goddamn Chinese fire drill? Sit the fuck down, Mike,” he says.
    I go, “No. You ain’t doing this to us.”
    Mom goes, “Michael honey.” Sounding thick already.
    “It’s okay, Mikie,” Albert says and I’m shaking my head ´cause it ain’t okay, not even a little bit okay.


    /kk's blog will return/

  10. #1085
    Imagine something clever here. CDSinex's Avatar
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    I’m tired of rewriting this. It’s far from perfect, and I’ve tweaked the refrain lines, but I no longer care.

    Your time is running out to make amends,
    the days ahead are fewer than behind.
    With oh so much to do before this ends,
    the time is running out. To make amends
    you start a list of relatives and friends
    you might have wronged. Though for many you find
    the time has long run out to make amends:
    the days ahead far fewer than behind.
    Some of my previously published poems are now on PoemHunter CDSinex

    Clay is molded to make a vessel, but the utility of the vessel lies in the space where there is nothing. – Lao Tzu (c. 601~ 531 B.C.E.)

  11. #1086
    Grand Duchess Ambrosia's Avatar
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    The days ahead (far fewer than behind)
    leave me fearing mortality's bequeath.
    The hunt of pale riders brings to mind
    the days ahead. Far fewer than behind
    are nights of love and drinks graced with rind.
    All that's left is the laying of the wreath,
    the days ahead far fewer than behind.
    Leave me--fearing mortality's bequeath.

  12. #1087
    is this how it ends? SuperModerator poetinahat's Avatar
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    leave me fearing mortalities: bequeath
    your slovenly buttoned down-gray mirage
    to shirtsleeve deacons, all dandruff and teeth.
    leave me, fearing. mortalities bequeath

    time to the living, off-balance beneath
    the burden of their surviving: 'dommage..'
    leave me, fearing mortalities! bequeath
    your slovenly buttoned down-gray mirage!


    : C'est dommage = "that's too bad"
    Last edited by poetinahat; 08-17-2017 at 03:57 PM.

  13. #1088
    is this how it ends? SuperModerator poetinahat's Avatar
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    your slovenly buttoned-down gray mirage
    futile as a haircut and mute as eyes
    engulfs my dream. here comes sleep, and i dodge
    mudfooted, too late, the smeary barrage

    of half-known names and noises, a collage
    of non-regrets, in which i recognise
    your slovenly buttoned-down gray mirage,
    futile as a haircut and mute as eyes.
    Last edited by poetinahat; 08-19-2017 at 01:08 PM.

  14. #1089
    Huh. kkbe's Avatar
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    Futile as a haircut and mute as eyes,
    blink once. Blink twice; she blinks again
    and utters naught, for words are lies:
    futile as a haircut. And mute, as ayes
    and nays puncture the silence. Dies
    are cast, as are the souls of men.
    Futile as a haircut. And mute as eyes.
    Blink once. Blink twice. She blinks again.


    From 'EFFIN ALBERT:
    “Take that thumb out of your mouth.”
    I open my eyes. Jerkface got a look on his face like I’m making him sick.
    I slide my thumb out, dry it with my shirt and stand up.
    “What is this, a goddamn Chinese fire drill? Sit the fuck down, Mike,” he says.
    I go, “No. You ain’t doing this to us.”
    Mom goes, “Michael honey.” Sounding thick already.
    “It’s okay, Mikie,” Albert says and I’m shaking my head ´cause it ain’t okay, not even a little bit okay.


    /kk's blog will return/

  15. #1090
    Pound cake. Perscribo's Avatar
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    Blink once. Blink twice. She blinks again.
    Green to twilight. Yellow to red.
    Squint through the streets of painted rain.
    Blink once. Blink twice. She blinks again.
    Fight back the itch to ascertain
    which North Wind has fluttered her head.
    Blink once. Blink twice. She blinks again.
    Green to twilight. Yellow to red.
    Poetry classics. Masterfully kindled. Always 99¢.

  16. #1091
    Huh. kkbe's Avatar
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    Green to twilight. Yellow to red.
    Pick a pin and stick it in.
    Grace and absolution, dead.
    Green to twilight, yellow to red:
    mercy choked and loathing fed.
    (How can revenge be a sin?)
    Green to twilight. Yellow to red.
    Pick a pin and stick it in.
    From 'EFFIN ALBERT:
    “Take that thumb out of your mouth.”
    I open my eyes. Jerkface got a look on his face like I’m making him sick.
    I slide my thumb out, dry it with my shirt and stand up.
    “What is this, a goddamn Chinese fire drill? Sit the fuck down, Mike,” he says.
    I go, “No. You ain’t doing this to us.”
    Mom goes, “Michael honey.” Sounding thick already.
    “It’s okay, Mikie,” Albert says and I’m shaking my head ´cause it ain’t okay, not even a little bit okay.


    /kk's blog will return/

  17. #1092
    is this how it ends? SuperModerator poetinahat's Avatar
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    Pick a pin and stick it in
    scratch a number on the door
    suck the bottle, feel the gin
    pick a pin and stick it in

    matted hair and clammy skin,
    no relief from the downpour
    Pick a pin and stick it in
    scratch a number on the door
    Last edited by poetinahat; 08-29-2017 at 12:30 PM.

  18. #1093
    Huh. kkbe's Avatar
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    Scratch a number on the door:
    eons. Living, not alive
    (cruel Lestat is keeping score).
    Scratch a number on the door;
    stay his hand at twenty-four!
    Stake my heart at twenty-five!
    Scratch a number on the door,
    eons living not alive.
    Last edited by kkbe; 08-29-2017 at 08:02 PM. Reason: :)
    From 'EFFIN ALBERT:
    “Take that thumb out of your mouth.”
    I open my eyes. Jerkface got a look on his face like I’m making him sick.
    I slide my thumb out, dry it with my shirt and stand up.
    “What is this, a goddamn Chinese fire drill? Sit the fuck down, Mike,” he says.
    I go, “No. You ain’t doing this to us.”
    Mom goes, “Michael honey.” Sounding thick already.
    “It’s okay, Mikie,” Albert says and I’m shaking my head ´cause it ain’t okay, not even a little bit okay.


    /kk's blog will return/

  19. #1094
    is this how it ends? SuperModerator poetinahat's Avatar
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    Eons living, not alive
    (not in any accepted sense
    at least). I am not young, and I've
    passed the bright days slouched in a cave.
    eons living, not alive.


    Eons living, not alive -
    not in any accepted sense.
    All for fear of fearing, I've
    eons living, not alive.

    This weekend, I'll go for a drive
    to the coast. I've not done that since
    eons. Living, not alive -
    not in any accepted sense.
    Last edited by poetinahat; 09-02-2017 at 05:08 PM.

  20. #1095
    Pound cake. Perscribo's Avatar
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    Not in any accepted sense,
    uncommon truth bleeds down the walls.
    Soldiers hot-step the consequence
    (not in any accepted sense).
    Feeble friends freeze in reticence.
    Fiery hell should make a snowball
    not in any accepted sense
    (uncommon). Truth bleeds down the walls.
    Last edited by Perscribo; 09-01-2017 at 10:31 AM.
    Poetry classics. Masterfully kindled. Always 99¢.

  21. #1096
    is this how it ends? SuperModerator poetinahat's Avatar
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    Dang - I messed up. Thank you, Ambrosia, for picking up my error!

    Oh well - next time.

  22. #1097
    Huh. kkbe's Avatar
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    Uncommon truth bleeds. Down the walls,
    rivulets run. Her black mascara
    follows suit; her aching grief, a pall
    uncommon. Truth bleeds down the walls;
    her anguish, a constricting caul.
    Dolor: grief hollows her. Caldera.
    Uncommon truth bleeds down the walls.
    Rivulets run her black mascara.
    Last edited by kkbe; 09-02-2017 at 07:00 AM. Reason: :)
    From 'EFFIN ALBERT:
    “Take that thumb out of your mouth.”
    I open my eyes. Jerkface got a look on his face like I’m making him sick.
    I slide my thumb out, dry it with my shirt and stand up.
    “What is this, a goddamn Chinese fire drill? Sit the fuck down, Mike,” he says.
    I go, “No. You ain’t doing this to us.”
    Mom goes, “Michael honey.” Sounding thick already.
    “It’s okay, Mikie,” Albert says and I’m shaking my head ´cause it ain’t okay, not even a little bit okay.


    /kk's blog will return/

  23. #1098
    is this how it ends? SuperModerator poetinahat's Avatar
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    rivulets run her black mascara
    into hieroglyphs, paint-fresh but
    grim as headstone rubbings, where a
    rivulet's run her black mascara
    through the fault lines of tomorrow.
    soft as a fold, sleek as a cut:
    rivulets run her black mascara
    into hieroglyphs. paint, fresh. but...

  24. #1099
    Huh. kkbe's Avatar
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    Into hieroglyphs, paint fresh. But
    in the end, even the mighty fall.
    Heavy hands paint myths cut
    into hieroglyphs, paint fresh but
    as they wield their brushes, in their guts
    they know that time will do them all
    in, too. Hieroglyphs, paint fresh but
    in the end, even the mighty fall.
    Last edited by kkbe; 09-07-2017 at 01:56 AM.
    From 'EFFIN ALBERT:
    “Take that thumb out of your mouth.”
    I open my eyes. Jerkface got a look on his face like I’m making him sick.
    I slide my thumb out, dry it with my shirt and stand up.
    “What is this, a goddamn Chinese fire drill? Sit the fuck down, Mike,” he says.
    I go, “No. You ain’t doing this to us.”
    Mom goes, “Michael honey.” Sounding thick already.
    “It’s okay, Mikie,” Albert says and I’m shaking my head ´cause it ain’t okay, not even a little bit okay.


    /kk's blog will return/

  25. #1100
    Huh. kkbe's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by poetinahat View Post

    ...the fault lines of tomorrow.
    soft as a fold, sleek as a cut:
    Love that.
    From 'EFFIN ALBERT:
    “Take that thumb out of your mouth.”
    I open my eyes. Jerkface got a look on his face like I’m making him sick.
    I slide my thumb out, dry it with my shirt and stand up.
    “What is this, a goddamn Chinese fire drill? Sit the fuck down, Mike,” he says.
    I go, “No. You ain’t doing this to us.”
    Mom goes, “Michael honey.” Sounding thick already.
    “It’s okay, Mikie,” Albert says and I’m shaking my head ´cause it ain’t okay, not even a little bit okay.


    /kk's blog will return/

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