Author: Tim (Page 5 of 12)

I am back with an other poem to share. It’s a Waka, a Japanese form that consists of five lines with a 57577 syllable count. The first two lines stand alone, the second two do as well and the third line can stand alone or relate to the two lines before it. Yeah, clear as mud. I know.

This year the writing isn’t like it has been in previous years. It’s not necessarily harder, but the ideas aren’t flowing and often I lose interest in them fairly quickly. The poems I share are what survives that weird cycle.

Anyway, I suppose it is normal to have difficult writing times. All is not lost. Once again I have something to share. It is what it is, so… enjoy.

Aaaand they're off...

There is no answer
to the last letter he wrote.
She sips mint juleps
in a kentucky saloon.
The horses don’t care at all.

©2021 Tim Geoghegan All rights reserved.

Cheers!

Heh! The Kouta form is a Japanese quatrain that is constrained by a specific syllable count. According to Robert Lee Brewer there are two styles which you can read about in his post here. My third quatrain is a third twist on things. It’s probably not original as ideas go, but let’s think… what really is anymore?

While originality is often questionable, I can guarantee that the topic is taken directly from my own experience today. I am happy to say both the bird and the cat survived.

Here goes nothing…

Hit and Run

Daylight is fading quickly,
rain falls, torrential...
wind howling from the southwest.
Winter storm arrives.

Bird returning to her nest
caught up in a frightful gust
slammed into a window pane.
Cat is wide awake.

Looking out the window
perhaps hoping for a meal.
Nothing appealing
holds his short attention span. 


©2021 Tim Geoghegan. All rights reserved. 

Cheers!

PS. My Titles are just what pop in my head. I seriously don’t spend much time on the titles. Feel free to suggest something better.

Practicing zen? No.But I am drinking water and not using a prescribed poetic form today. I thought, “What could I do that would be different and interesting… to me?” POOF! (It, maybe, wasn’t instantaneous…) An idea was born.

I took a topic I bumbled across and I wrote it into 3 tercets of 8 syllables each followed by 4 Quatrains of 8 syllables each.

Why tercets and quatrains? I just liked the idea of three stanzas of three lines each, followed by 4 stanzas of four lines each. It may not even be an original idea, but I haven’t seen it before, that I can recall. It’s interesting to me.

Why 8 syllables per line? Why not? I am conscious that I wasn’t paying much mind to the meter other than syllable count. I don’t care how the stresses fell. I kinda thought the poem fells a little more zen-like, experimental, and jazzy. Maybe it’s all just dumb. Whatever. Don’t like it? Get your own blog or follow someone who likes following rules and coloring inside the lines.

So, here it is:

Plain talk

Sometimes I see when poetry
does not seem to have clarity
that straight talk alone may impart.

Perhaps a real thought so expressed
With a few clear words, black and white
Lacking false technicolor.

No obscurity in meaning
No dandy words convoluting
Flagging  in the poet’s bluster.

Like when I say, “Do Ya wanna”
then you reply simply, “I would…”
and the doubtful me then portends
a virtual “but” in the air.

Looking back three hours later 
To when I stop and consider 
The invisible “but” may be
An unspoken yes, then unseen. 

I think I should have said, “Will you?”
The answer to which is more clear.
Precisely Yes Please, or Hell no, 
where I would know what to do next. 

But unthinking as I can be
I let it sit for much too long
I acknowledge I may have missed
A chance to spend some time with you.


©2021 Tim Geoghegan - All rights reserved

Cheers!

Today is a seven line poem, with seven words per line and not more than seven letters per word. It’s day seven after all…

Here ya go:

Morning ritual

When the sun rises in the east
And cotton candy clouds line the horizon
The music thrums softly in my ears
Masking the sound of the rough road
Warm coffee keeps me moving toward work
Where constant email and phone calls await
And I just want to keep driving.

©2021 Tim Geoghegan - All rights reserved. 

Cheers!

Can I just tell you that today was a crapper. There was very little good that came out of today. I have been distracted by things I can’t even believe. Poetry has taken a back seat and in the time I did have I only came up with a single stanza. A beginning, perhaps? Maybe a middle? Or and ending… nah… it’s not an ending. Maybe I’ll share with you the development of the idea in fits and starts. It’s my blog and my poetry after all… this is how it happens… in a messy sort of disorganized fashion.

I was tempted to share a poem I wrote in 2016, but it goes against the spirit of the challenge. I meant this to be for poetry I would write each day, or in this case… a poem type thing. So here ya go:

Untitled

In the moments before bed
With a single light above
My thoughts turn to the past
And to mysteries left unsolved.

©2021 Tim Geoghegan

I suppose if you wanted to write a stanza of your own to go with this… I wouldn’t object.

Cheers!

Yep. This poem tells a story in 4 seconds. You may have to fill in a few blanks.

Meeting face to face. 

A wink.
A blink.
A kiss.
A slap…

Copyright ©2021 Tim Geoghegan, all rights reserved

Cheers

Coffee shops are fun places to gather material for journaling and maybe even crafting into poetic vignettes… glimpses into the lives the of people around us.

The Imayo form is a 4-line Japanese form that has 12 syllables in each line. The twelve syllables are broken up with a purposeful caesura (break) between the first 7 syllables and the last 5 in each line. 7/5 syllable counts are unique to many notable Japanese forms suck as the Haiku and the Tanka.

I like how the poem can sometimes break down into two separate stories, but together tell a more poignant story and perhaps better developed overall narrative.

This poem is a product of sitting in coffee shops and taking notes. I pulled a moment out of the pages of my recollection and tinkered it into this Imayo. Enjoy.

Could be it's goodbye...

The coffee has gotten cold - he takes another sip.
A bell rings over the door - patrons come and go.
Her napkin is still right there - ruffled by the breeze.
The empty chair speaks loudly - tears roll down his cheeks.

©️2021 Tim Geoghegan

To be certain, this poem could benefit from time and some workshopping, but the challenge is about what I can get done today. It is what it is, for now. See ya again tomorrow.

Cheers!