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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 SOULLESS:
    “Albert, you think you saw me do something bad. You saw it in your head that day we went to Chuck E. Cheese, right?”
    “Yessir,” Albert says, so soft I barely hear him.
    “No, you didn’t, Albert. You didn’t see a fucking thing. Do I make myself clear?”
    Albert whispers Yessir.
    Jerkface says, “Good. That’s real good, Albert. No more vision shit or episode shit or whatever the fuck that shit is. You’re both going to keep your traps shut about me from now on if you know what’s good for you. You dig me, pygmies?”
    Me and Albert both say Yessir at the same time.
    Jerkface stops talking. Just sits there looking at us. I’m watching his fingers tap on that knee and I start counting: onetwothreefouronetwothreefour—

    /kk's blog/

  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
    Queen of the Realm 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.

  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.

  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.

  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 SOULLESS:
    “Albert, you think you saw me do something bad. You saw it in your head that day we went to Chuck E. Cheese, right?”
    “Yessir,” Albert says, so soft I barely hear him.
    “No, you didn’t, Albert. You didn’t see a fucking thing. Do I make myself clear?”
    Albert whispers Yessir.
    Jerkface says, “Good. That’s real good, Albert. No more vision shit or episode shit or whatever the fuck that shit is. You’re both going to keep your traps shut about me from now on if you know what’s good for you. You dig me, pygmies?”
    Me and Albert both say Yessir at the same time.
    Jerkface stops talking. Just sits there looking at us. I’m watching his fingers tap on that knee and I start counting: onetwothreefouronetwothreefour—

    /kk's blog/

  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 SOULLESS:
    “Albert, you think you saw me do something bad. You saw it in your head that day we went to Chuck E. Cheese, right?”
    “Yessir,” Albert says, so soft I barely hear him.
    “No, you didn’t, Albert. You didn’t see a fucking thing. Do I make myself clear?”
    Albert whispers Yessir.
    Jerkface says, “Good. That’s real good, Albert. No more vision shit or episode shit or whatever the fuck that shit is. You’re both going to keep your traps shut about me from now on if you know what’s good for you. You dig me, pygmies?”
    Me and Albert both say Yessir at the same time.
    Jerkface stops talking. Just sits there looking at us. I’m watching his fingers tap on that knee and I start counting: onetwothreefouronetwothreefour—

    /kk's blog/

  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
    Queen of the Realm 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; Today at 01:08 PM.

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