formfindsfunction

the bref double is rarefied, a postcard from the sonnet's edge; lax both in meter and in rhyme, it seems to romp most giddily. unhinged from it's cousin's strictures it's joy and grace exemplified. free and easy flows the quill-tip; the lines fill up so prettily. here classic verse is simplified (surprising since the form is french), and while its rules can be defied it's hardly worth the poet's time. in closing, reader, i confide i find this form purely sublime.

Triste et ennuyeux Le prof pense que les Etudiants gracieux Preferaient quitter Mais le blanc tableau L'oblige a rester Le lecon fini Il voit que il pleut Son vieux visage gris Il sait que il veut La poussiere gris Sur le blanc tableau Deviennent rouge brillant Un tir calm rien meut Choqué etudiants Savent que ils perdent Le triste prof devant Temoin blanc tableau

Your moon face buoyant on our crumpled sheets Snuffles as I brush your spindly, broken Hands. They're too perfect for me. Your gaze fleets With cynical lethargy to connect With the dawn. Too early for birds to sing, The hills too lazy to do a damn thing. Australia calls. You'd like it, I think. You write poetry, I think. Words flow through Our throats like sunbeams, words to describe dew Perspiring under our lids as I blink To say goodbye. But they'll be left unsaid Forever. So I will say what I must. Your skin is fresh as eucalyptus, head Filled with firecracker wits. I can't say lust Is pure but spring makes it so, turns molten Red into ca

ebullient font, nature's keys to our soul's doors; teacher and lesson. r u t holy chemistry, esoteric botany; occulted pathway. v e r f l o w i n green infinity, enfolding us with the Whole, nurturing our growth.

Once the wind caught on the sea And its dress snagged upon the crests Like a girl who couldn't help falling For a boy with too many cracks Then the wind tumbled between the waves Crashing with the water when it couldn't find the sky. I always wanted to live in the sky, Wrap clouds around me--dip myself into the sea-- And wander into roaring waves Of emptiness; Rush as the sun crests Rush like wind and water into the cracks Of myself, so that maybe I'll stop falling For people who can't keep themselves from falling Down, and who won't quit looking at the sky So they can avoid all the cracks In the sidewalk as they weave through a people-sea

aspersions tasting of rank bile; caustic flasks of fear decanted. entropic, sightless filaments growing and choking heedlessly. instantly the truth is jaundiced, kind words now at best lecherous. meaningless, fevered negations only melt into perfidy. quarrelsome misgivings rampage, salvaging naught from tragedy. undoing these shared volitions; willing this sea to xerotes. you have made our total zero.

Wind blew cold in the horse's mane East ran the horses through the plain Stalwart rode there a faithful king Through shadow of a dreadful wing Unafraid when blood fell like rain Through a dark morning without dawn He led his riders, now they're gone Eorl's sons in their helmets tall Oath bound them to heed Gondor's call Dark was the morning, red the day Ere evening came, the king dead lay Now to the bright halls leads his way Hail Théoden, o mighty king A song of glory as swords ring Let now the riders sing!

and you think you'll maybe trust him, for he's touched your perfect body with his mind.                                            -leonard cohen i knew his name, but not his words, until a scant few years ago. they soar through heaven's vault as birds and they lurch through sheol's shadow. his works are sacred and profane (ecclesiminical, each gem; angels and demons, there, contained) the depths of humanness to seine. he sang of love both blithe and grim, and you think you'll maybe trust him. sparks within the darkness, shadows at midday; the release of loss and the heartache of joy: these were his revelatory yin and yang. he spoke on fai

Brown crinkles with age? Crisp white? Stained black? I shall make the first mark with thoughts inked in stylus black. The belle of the ball glides over floors and chandeliers With loaded grins, clacking heels and a dress of styleless black When he emerges from his den, don't enter and don't speak Of the shame, guilt, perfectionism and eyes of smileless black The drugs are quick, they think, as their minds mesh into one With the randomness of two dice and a consistent chylous black The tight focus of a nightmare is a thing to admire It chokes reason till it caves and creates a hilus black After she left him he poked and prodded at his hea

I love him But. (There is no "but.") And Come twilight, no change. For love is always "and" without a catch. We love As love has made us "we." Two rolled into one. A discourse, Ever widening, And ever deeper, so help me. God, the words come slow with age and time, But I am his, and he, mine.

Curdled and creamy divine decadence; aromatic admixture; eaten elegance. Robustly russet or wanly white, Corn or clam, potato or perch, noon or night, scrumptious to sup, tempting to taste superior soup to best bouillabaisse-- a fine feast of esculent excellence!

over and over she intertwines the colors looping and plaiting over and under she works for him--the Face reflected before her the sight of him makes her smile when she tires the joy at seeing him soon fades with the insight that her curse is self-fulfilling she weeps she lived for those moments she drifts and as she fades she dreams she's sleeping in his arms she dies He sees her and long last beauty unmarred by death He finds her fair then He turns a blind eye

the glass's sand, to our chagrin, spills fast away and ne'er again will life subsist as it has been; may you live in, may you live in... we're forced to watch forces align, to our communal world malign and lay to waste our plans contrived; int'resting times, int'resting times...

i, sit,  awake in the wee hours, my third eye's pupil blown. my withered soul quakes and cowers from the known and unknown. i seek egress from where i'm caught, deep in this lab'rynth, monster fraught; i seek egress, i seek egress, from this deep-shadowed maze of thought. i, sit, awake in the wee hours, high on fear and worry. my jaw grinds and my stomach sours from that noisome slurry. i seek release from this mad ape perched on my back, its maw agape. i seek release, i seek release, from this world that maims and rapes. i, sit, awake in the wee hours (mind in gear, clutch burned out), lost in thoughts beyond my powers (no recourse, no red

The bards of English verse have taught my pen Much more of life and love than I'd admit. They reach from centuries to speak again And I admire wordsmiths I've not met. They speak plain truth and life in simple words And touch on human nature that rings true In every age. How marvelous the chords They strike beyond the old age into new.

oh, waterbear! oh, tardigrade! my deepest ponders you ensnare; is death, to you, just a charade? long trains of thought do you pervade; are you the blade, god's veil to tear? oh, waterbear! oh, tardigrade! are you panspermic seeds, far-splayed? did i come from the genes we share? is death, to you, just a charade? oh, watertard! oh, bearigrade! oh, watergrade! oh, tardibear! oh, waterbear...oh, tardigrade... so, now my sanity's been flayed; my thoughts on you, blame's brunt do bare... is death, to you, just a charade? though fey, i think my point's been made... though i must point it with great care; oh, waterbear...oh, tardigrade... is d

Said God, despite perfection found in Three: "Let there be another in this place, And let him reflect glory back to me." "Tis naught but a reflection of my face; Mankind shall rule a garden, bear a name. So let there be another in this place." Trees bear fruit and helpers bear the blame-- Serpents striking heels will be retried. Man has ruled a garden, borne a name. Reflecting former glory mankind cried; His failing cast a shadow on such love. Serpents striking heels will be retried. Oh man who stands as icon, not enough; Still one more will come to stand as king. Man's failing cast a shadow on such love. Victory will come, the garden si

"there is nothing here to be seen.": misdirection's opening screen. insurrection is creeping keen, 'alternate truth' its protection; misdirection's insurrection. to see and not to say: perverse. to choose blindness: possibly worse; a fell kindness driving a hearse. give not in to the crowd's madness; to choose blindness? a fell kindness. should we fail to call this bluff history will, with time enough, make us its shills; an earned rebuff. if we yet quaff this stagnant swill history will make us its shills.

Carthage shall forever feel the sting of your sword. We shall not endeavor to keep you in untoward circumstances. Go, then-- with lands to be explored and duly conquered when you set foot within them. And there are other men to grovel at my hem. And there are maidens, too, that I cannot condemn for falling into you the way I almost did; the way I wanted to. The love we had was all too sordid to end another way than it did.

weaving wisps, knitting with nothing. i'm compulsed, but not inspired.

 Astral: of or pertaining to the aster, stellar, star-shaped, pertaining to the stars Stars seem like cold and distant flames, burning in the long night hours we never knew we never dreamed that they were always watching us close, Just because the sun dominates,  and our skies are clouded with  light, Never meant they couldn't see, they are always watching us from the vault of the sky, Wondering if we know they are dead They have been dead for ages and years, shedding old light

Gyres Whirl in maddening circles 'Round her, while Words wend Their way into form. Back of it all, the medium And the message (ferried from spirits Through billowing Cursive) will stir hearts, as Sirens stirred Penelope's spouse.

Artemisia: type of plant, genus of aromatic shrubs or herbs A taste of Witches brew is bitter When Diane's moonlight grew wormwood buds Orion lost interest, or died and she pined. and   then cut him out in bitter stars.