Minis

[Falvlun]

Mini poems. They are those one or two lines that never end up going anywhere, but you can't help but find them appealing. I would love to see some of your own ostensibly failed poems, that seem almost complete in their incompleteness. Here's a couple of mine.

Minis:


My heart’s a maze of misunderstandings
Like a cliched poem
It wanders in normalcy

~

The nothing in my head
Insists upon chirping
Go away little frog
I do not want your love song

~

I’m not gonna lie. I don’t like you.


Or your cat.

 

[Twilight Hue]

"The little lark leprechaun dressed in green
chips merrily along
alas singing, Christine dance with meeee..." -CC-

"Barree bakes at such a frenzied pace
churning cakes through the iron grates into the
the waiting bags of Tophat Drakes laying in wait." -CC-

"The car is running. Maybe we can catch it at the next curb." -CC-

 

[monta]

He knows he loves her, even as he turns
The light touch of the frost on the road eases
With both hands flat on it, palms down, he feels it
With effort the sun heaves to the middle of the sky
Cold stone groans as outside warms up slowly
And she knows that he loves her, even as he turns

this is my most edited poem ever, random, dull, literally no rhyme or reason and it doesn't scan and still unbinned

 

[Kathryn]

I’m not gonna lie. I don’t like you.


Or your cat.

With effort the sun heaves to the middle of the sky
Cold stone groans as outside warms up slowly
And she knows that he loves her, even as he turns

Yes! Great lines!

Here's one of mine:

"Spiraling toward earth with no backup chute,
Grappling for the cord in anything I could hold on to –
A bottle, a cigarette, a steering wheel –
I landed on the dance floor,
In the ladies’ room,
And on the darkened highway.
I found myself in dank hotel rooms,
Or looking across pancakes at 4 am
Into the face of a stranger."

I can't seem to finish this poem!

 

[Falvlun]

monta, I love the idea: He loves her even as he turns.
Kathryn, those last two lines are great "Or looking across pancakes at 4 am/ Into the face of a stranger."

Sometimes the only thing to do with those stubborn poems is to just chop out the really good lines and insert them into a completely different sort of poem.

 

[Sunstone]

On this mountain I'm alone
The moon a foot beyond my hand
And there's nothing that I know
And nothing that I understand.