“Shadorma is a 6 line poem (sestet) of Spanish descent with no set rhyme scheme. The shadorma is a syllabic poem with the following structure: 3/5/3/3/7/5″
Above this dusty relic phone
Laughter spring sentience
A map of soles
Connects body
Instep…
Movement calling arches;
Come in arches—
Convivial apogeesfor filigree Mechanisms fuse wire, ligaments It’s cliché to say when you least expect it Like news, dropping bombs without warning To lose yourself through charged sentiment
Returning to amend again
Biochemical remnants
Stains memory into the glass of years
That should forever
Never
Stand
Your silence…
Five-alarm warnings, imploring, before life ends Regrets that, meant, honor, discontent, mendicant More when voices Distill vibrations… Rendering whispers… Most soothing…
Feathered sighs…
Intimate
Do I spy falsies?
Maybe that’s clear
Levity during tears for mortality
Intense, sears carving reality
As tragedy snuffs out waning night
Death pronouncements through the tunneled ear
Cease climbing toward the apex right
When singing bird chirps fill the morning air
Yes, I’m missing sweet words The ones that we hold dear Recalling felt a soft smooth face
Even hang ups, wrong numbers Just wishing love to hear
___________________________________________________ Want to listen to Eavesdropping? The above poem was written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. Rob Hanson took the fantastic HDR photo. Today, it is Part 2 of Mr. Hanson’s interview with Chris G. at One Stop Poetry. Awesome photographer. Go check out the interview.
Is it crazy to tell off the sky?
Shake your fist at the clouds moving by
Pin your yourself down for 1-2-3
Past vice built walls
Over mountain misting seas
There is no elevator to heaven Maybe a sandwich break
Thought escalation
Thinking through bodily sensation
Left eye twitching
When most alone
By myself
Returning home
Lightening at sunset A cigarette in spring rain Dog tired and alive Already I have changed
Fear falling free The worst of it is me Self-made peace Self-respect beyond grief Seeking a spacious garden Destination reached Not the channel alley Asphalt valley Where cover’s steam Below drowning aqueducts Sewer rats, healing cuts Fresh air I breath And dream To leave This claustrophobic rut Hitting bricks
Working out my luck
___________________________________________________ Care to hear me read Claustrophobic Rut? The above poem was written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. Scott Wyden took the amazing photo. Outstanding lines and composition. He is the interviewee today over at One Stop Poetry.