If you
huddle at night
scribbling it all down, ink
to blood to paper, you daren’t
question.
1.29.2013
don't look it in the mouth
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what i write
words
poetry
haiku
stories
cinquain
writing
my grandmother
indie ink
100 words
shadorma
rondelet
limerick
awdl gywydd
hay(na)ku
oddquain
rictameter
sonnet
tanka
ballad
common measure
cywydd
fibonacci
frosting
jueju
sevenling
sijo
triolet
Celtic quatrain
balassi
blues
burns
cascade
chained rhyme
double dactyl
macneice
pantoum
pleiades
roundel
toddaid
waka
aubade
cameo
cyhydedd hir
dunbar
envelope
florette
herrick
huitain
hymnal measure
koan
lune
orion
puente
rossetti
rubaiyat
sestina
tanaga
tercet
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Perfect! A gem that explodes in my consciousnes.
ReplyDeleteI never question the poems that come to me in the night. Sadly some are so fleeting, I can't grasp them before they fade away.
ReplyDeleteI love here the movement from ink to blood to paper... It says it all.
ReplyDelete"Ink, to blood to paper...." Powerful, my friend.
Love this little gem!
ReplyDeleteeden
i'm glad! thanks, friends.
ReplyDelete