Scribbling on my Soul The scratching of the pen Won’t stop It echoes through my dreams And lifts my eyelids With the urgency Of birth Ideas invade Exploding crocuses That reach out For an inkling of light But Shadows shackle me To sleep Draw me back down Below the surface Until the poem Remains a […]
Poetic Ghosts Words become poems – Ephemeral ghosts as soon As they are spoken The photograph was taken on a trip to Copenhagen.
Having turned my hand to the sonnet in the past, I thought I would investigate the ottava rima. In the English form, a stanza has eight lines of three alternate rhymes and one rhyming couplet, following the pattern a-b-a-b-a-b-c-c. The meter is usually iambic pentameter. A Poet’s Truth A word is struck and bursts forth […]