Poetry Challenge Day 30

Well, I made it! How? God only knows. But today, the final day, we were asked to spend time in reflection. We were to look back on the last 30 days, and write a poem in extended metaphor about our experience writing for this challenge. I have to finish quickly now, I have a long day planned tomorrow. But, I will post this tonight. I’ve worked too hard to remain consistent during this challenge to lose it on the last day.

Like a new bud sprouting forth,
I cautiously stepped forward,
Showing some promise,
But unsure of myself,
Doubting if the little courage
Hidden within my bloom was quite enough.
I struggled with the fear my that my words
May, like all my past attempts,
Not have the strength or brilliance to last.
But yet, I held some hope there too,
So I flourished my pen and  a long blank page,
And began at once anew.
The weather tried to freeze me out,
Keep me from finishing my task,
But I pushed ever onward,
Determined this time to last.
There were some days I thought
I wouldn’t make it through,
Days where inspiration was naught,
Or I was sick and had the flu.
But I knew if I kept writing each day,
No matter what tried to stop me,
That the chills would run away,
And at the end, I’d just feel free!
Today at last I have finished,
My task done, blossom in bloom,
My pen I have relinquished,
Ready to sleep, I will be soon.



Poetry Challenge Day 29

Yes, yes, yes. I know. I didn’t post yesterday. But, for once, I do have a good reason for it. I was at the barn late last night, and had to spend an extra hour there caring for my horse. He had a rough day in the paddock, and had a couple nasty scrapes that needed a good washing. With my horse, who is a total baby, this took a good amount of time due to his wimping out at the slightest touch. Poor guy! While I wrote the day 29 poem yesterday, I got home too late to post it.

Our challenge was to briefly research a poetic form of our choice, and then write a poem according to the rules of that form. I chose the villanelle, which is a form I had researched previously for an article I wrote, but hadn’t done any real work on. If you are as much of a poetry geek as I am, you may want to look it up for yourself. It has a very interesting story.

His gentle touch that softly warms,
With its own great glimmering light,
Holds my heart, shelters me in storms.
This small, smoldering ember warns
Of a coming flame, blazing bright,
His gentle touch that softly warms.
He is the light, guiding my reforms,
His great love that I cannot fight
Holds my heart, shelters me in storms.
There can be nothing my heart mourns,
His lovely touch only brings delight,
His gentle touch that softly warms.
Though my troubles may come in swarms,
Peace comes in knowing His great might
Holds my heart, shelters me in storms.
In life, there are no solid norms,
But to me this thought holds not fright.
His gentle touch that softly warms,
Holds my heart, shelters me in storms.


Poetry Challenge Day 28

Wow. What a day. First day back to school, near blizzard outside, and trying to read The Hunger Games to my brothers after I’ve completely lost my voice… the list goes on. However, today’s challenge was rather intriguing. We were to look through some online art galleries until we found a piece that inspired us, and then write a poem about it. Interestingly enough, the picture I picked actually turned out to be a bit of a foreshadowing of the weather tonight. The piece is called “Putting the Stallion in Some Mist” by Joseph Pfeifer.


(This photo belongs entirely to Joseph Pfeifer, and can be found at this link: http://www.josephpfeifer.com/?p=2097)

A thick, moist sheet of billowing white,
Shining, shimmering, in the moonlight,
Shifting, curling under some unseen force,
A heavy shroud, filled with remorse,
And yet so beautiful, in its own way,
My feet bounce through the glorious grey.
I know what’s waiting, hidden deep within,
I feel the warmth, break out in a grin.
Two puffs, like a dragon’s breath, break
From the mist, strands of white shake
From the neck of the beast. My own
Breath melds with the mist all around.
Two black eyes and silence, not a word, not a sound.
Time freezes between us, like the mist in the air,
Slowly curling its frosty fingers between our warm stare.
There are many phantasms seen in a mist,
All those fantastic things that don’t really exist.
But this one alone brings life to my soul,
A white horse that comes only when the clouds roll.


Poetry Challenge Day 27

Have you ever felt like a swarm of tracker jackers has crawled inside your head and built a nest inside it? Well, that’s about what I’ve felt like the last 2 days. But, I shall prevail! I am determined that this cold will not get me behind in school starting tomorrow. After all, if I can read Mockingjay in 2 days with it, I can do my geometry homework… right? I guess we’ll see…

Moving on. Today’s order of business is “The Poem I Would Never Write”. Yes, that’s right. Today’s challenge is to start with the title “The Poem I Would Never Write”… and then write that poem. Here goes nothing!

The poem I would never write
Has no meter, rhyme, or scheme.
It has no meaning whatsoever,
Not even stress relief.
I might as well just throw it out,
Or stop my pen from writing,
Because this poem makes no sense.
It’s like that little white ball of fluff
That sticks to the carpet no matter how long
The vacuum tries to suck it up.
It only comes up when you bend down
And grab it with your grimy fingers.
Or perhaps it’s as senseless as a
Brand new bud, opening to feel
The sun’s fresh, magnificent rays,
But before it can show its beauty full,
The senseless beetle comes to eat it away.
This poem is one I would never write,
because even if it’s beautiful in its
Own little way,
It has no meaning, no purpose,
So I might as well throw it all away.

Welp, that’s all the time I have for this tonight. I don’t care how sick I am, I intend on having a great last night of Spring Break with my brothers, whom I rarely get to say besides a quick goodnight hug nowadays. Perhaps we’ll even spend tonight like we did last night… One curled on either side of me, heads resting on my shoulders while I read The Hunger Games aloud to them as they occasionally turn their big eyes on me and raise their hands, begging the answer to a question. These are my favorite times with them… I which they never had to end. But I see them both growing up so quickly, and I know I myself will be headed off to college soon, so I’m desperate to enjoy as many nights like this as I can.


Poetry Challenge Day 26

Hello all! For today’s poetry challenge, I had to do something I’ve never done before. In fact, I’d never even thought of doing it. But I must say… it was certainly a ton of fun. We were to gather a couple old magazines and take 10 minutes, flipping through and cutting out words or phrases that peaked our interest. After the 10 minutes, we had to take our clippings and form a cut-out poem. I am posting a picture of the finished work. I am also posting a transcript of the poem, as the picture was taken on my phone and is rather blurry.

Lost glory; a sudden threat…
You have the power
If you spark, taking the risk
Chances are what matters most will be free
Where he belongs.
Heartsick inferno is peaceful and relaxed
When night falls
Not a moment to spare. We’re under stress…
A change of heart
Therefore we are at risk.
Protect the harmony you wanted more than anything.
Recover. Thrive.


Poetry Challenge Day 25

Can it be? Have I really reached my goal for the night? Why yes, yes it’s true! I will actually follow through for once and get my poor, often neglected readers up to date! Today’s challenge was to write a poem including the words pistachio, ink, pebble, weather, and varnish.

Well, my dear friends, writer’s block has me again,
Everything’s in its clutches, even the ink for my pen.
I’ve searched rabidly for my sunflower seeds to nibble,
But find just a single pistachio, it’s the size of a pebble!
This is very tragic to me, though you may not know why.
But you see, sunflower seeds kiss bad weather goodbye,
And to me, the the only bad weather is a blocked out sky.
“I’ll use these small seeds as a weapon of choice!” Said I,
Quite aloofly, to this monster of mine. They are it’s one
Weakness, they and sad country songs, so I’ve shown.
For with a handful of seeds and a few corny lines,
I’ve written this poem, given it a varnish to shine.
You may disapprove, even laugh at my quirks,
But at least I have them when Writer’s Block lurks.


Poetry Challenge Day 24

Ahhh yes. Day twenty-four. At last, a day that gets me. Our instructions were to do something different in some way than anything we’d written before. In their exact words, “Be wild!” This, of course, comes naturally to me. I’m about as wild and crazy as you can get! Not crazy. Insane! Yes, yes! Of course! Entirely insane. Because for us eschoolers, “crazy” cannot even begin to describe the depth and range of our insanity. In fact, many may even throw multicolored mermole tacos at you while riding winged narwhals if you call them crazy, because you will have “insulted their level of utter insanity.”

But, as fun as this challenge sounds, it was hard for me to get started. I’ve done so many things for this challenge itself that were different from anything I’d written before that I just didn’t know how to start. It was as if somebody had brainwashed all of my fresh, new, exciting ideas from my mind, and left only the crusty old remnants of previous ink scribbles. That is, until I realized something. This challenge does not say what, specifically, must be different. It does not say it must be a different style, or voice, or subject. With this realization came an even greater one. What if, to make this poem different, I use a different source of inspiration than I ever have before? And so, you see, I realized I just had to write something for the Hunger Games trilogy, my most recent addiction. After all, while I’ve written poems for characters in my own books, which were actually used in these books as songs, or love letters, or things of the like, I’ve never done this for a work of someone else.


It once was so simple, this scarred, callused life,
Full of hardships, of course, and its own kind of strife,
But even my nightmares, filled with fear and great pain,
Could not have prepared me for the blood of Snow’s reign.
Back then, though so little, there was always some hope,
But now, I find myself falling down a slippery slope.
I see no sun, no more of hope’s glimmering rays,
All I can see is anguish, for the rest of my days.
I’ll lose all those closest and dearest to me,
Even if I my life forfeit, no difference I see.
It’s happened before, it will happen again,
To my Prim, my Gale, even Peeta, dear friend.
I wish I could go back, make it all just reverse,
Step off the metal plate early, thrown into a hearse.
I’ve cried all my tears, till my eyes remain dry,
And I think to myself “At least mockingjays fly.”
They call me the spark, and bear this, my symbol,
Cinna even gave me wings with his fingers, so nimble.
But I know, deep inside, if I really had wings,
I’d take to the sky, forget all of these things.

Now, this is what I write after finishing the second book. I have yet to finish the trilogy, though I am on my hands and knees begging for the third one, waiting on edge in agonizing suspense. I guess what I’m trying to say, in a calm, gentle way, is do not leave a comment that will ruin the end for me! Please and thank you!