God’s Will–Choka

A cricket’s chirping

In the misty morning air

Dwindles till silenced

When rolling darkened clouds

Insulate morning

blocking out sky over trees

Blocking man from God

And satellite internet.

***

Choka is a long Japanese poem that alternates lines of 5 and 7 syllables. The poem must end with at least two 7 syllable lines in a row. If you want to learn more about choka or other syllabic poetry forms, you can visit Word Craft Poetry #TankaTuesday at: https://wordcraftpoetry.com/tanka-tuesday-poetry-cheat-sheet-for-tanka-tuesday-poetry-challenges/

The Problem with Questions—Kyrielle—Poetry Scavenger Hunt

The problem with questions about

The weather is you get caught up

In the asking and don’t just bask

In the majesty of nature’s

.

Terrible power. But just the

Same, why does the morning bring hard

And soft pulses of falling rain

In the majesty of nature?

.

And the flash of lightning that brings

Down a nearby tree? And why does

The explosion of thunder feel

Like the majesty of nature?

.

Like a beast leaping on you from

The shadows and sinking its teeth

In your skull and claws in your back

In the majesty of nature?

.

I wrote this kyrielle as part of Muris’ poetry scavenger hunt on the A Different Perspective page. If you want to participate, check out her page here: https://murisopsis.wordpress.com/2022/03/30/looking-forward-to-poetry-month/

Technically, a kyrielle has rhyme in each stanza as well as a refrain in the last line, but I wanted to try out something different. I think I will try my hand at a rhyming kyrielle sometime later.

Watch for Wah-spez

Hello, how are you?

I sure hope you are fine.

How can I help you today?

Are you doing well?

You are looking healthy.

Could I shout out a birthday?

How about you Fred and Billy

And Sally and Selma?

Have you heard about the weather today?

It will be hot and sunny,

So do drink some water.

And watch out for wah-spez today.

Because they could sting you.

Then you’ll look like me.

That is all I was going to say.

July Poem 31

A beautifully decorated children’s

Choir of storm arose.

We have been full

Of them, felt curtains rooted down

In the communicating corner.

The cold I thought,

Was masquerading as grapefruit.

Many trays of lime juice and salt

People see in his unfinished work were

Directed with an upturned plastic cup.