when (apo)strophes curl their way into her dreams

 

..
midnight. the trochees
and the dactyls are
attacking again. truth
is a tercet of song.

she tells it slant,
in staves of six, syn
-tax notwithstanding.

spondee sky is
calling, falling in psalms
of place, skeltonic clouds
catching a {refrain}
of what remains:

nothing left under this
rispetto moon

but the cadence of sylla
-bled breath,
and the echo of her own
measured feet.
 

 

..
Day 17 for NaPoWriMo, and we’re asked to use a specialized dictionary.
Guess which kind i used? šŸ˜‰ Ā 

 

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16 Responses to when (apo)strophes curl their way into her dreams

  1. lifelessons says:

    This is great! I was thinking of using my “Dictionary of Poetic Forms” as well, but my eyes fell on the “1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue” first. Glad I chose as I did because you covered the poetic terms perfectly!! I love it.

  2. Oloriel says:

    This was gorgeous, I loved the cadence it creates and I especially enjoyed this part :”falling in psalms
    of place, skeltonic clouds
    catching a {refrain}
    of what remains:

    nothing left under this
    rispetto moon”

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  4. Bryan Ens says:

    Nicely done, and congrats on being the featured poet!

  5. C.C. says:

    Spellbinding as always….and I adore the title šŸ™‚

  6. Exciting! The poem leaves me energised, full of expectations. Not a clue what is expected, or why my system refuses to take in the nothing left part.

  7. M says:

    ha! troping the light fantastic, as it were ~

  8. lillian says:

    I absolutely love your magical touch with words — especially how you can divide them over lines. This is stunning!

  9. jennjilks says:

    Well done, featured poet! I’m falling behind! We had grandkids overnight!

  10. Vince Gotera says:

    De, lovely. i used poetry terms too but not as delightfully. Congrats on being today’s featured poet at NaPoWriMo!

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  12. She says:

    “midnight. the trochees” … I love “midnight” as a verb here.

    Also later, “again-truth” as noun. This is the kind of truth that has to keep beating itself over your head because you keep understanding it … then walking away … then coming back to it … over and over and over again.

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