The turgid winds of winter howl their woe,
Blow their hurt fiercely against frosty panes.
Don’t they have somewhere else more kind to go;
A wood, perhaps, or a still summer lane?
©2021 KT Workman
Poetry form used: quatrain
vengeful crows perch on a wire watch me through the window a morose murder for hire their sullen gaze never tires sloe eyes tell me they know vengeful crows perch on a wire they have seen my dark desires witnessed my bloody tableau a morose murder for hire their voices raise in a raucous choir my guilty face they know vengeful crows perch on a wire I fear my circumstance is dire as they wait for darkness to grow a morose murder for hire the sagacious birds plan my funeral pyre beneath the half-moon’s ashen glow vengeful crows perch on a wire a morose murder for hire ©2021 KT Workman
Poetry form: villanelle
I pilot an onyx boat of braille Through a sea of wicked storms. Facing the wind, I need no false friends Whose love proved to be only lukewarm. ‘Neath an eclipsed moon, I rig my sails Scribed with black cuneiforms. I need no false friends, facing the wind, I laugh at angry, purple-faced storms. Charybdis swirls opens, maw inhales; My boat stabs through, bow a thorn. Facing the wind, I need no false friends To offer up hope, pity, or scorn. My boat rides high, powered by my wail To adumbral shores forlorn. I need no false friends, facing the wind, For darkness keeps my gelid soul warm. ©2021 KT Workman
Poetry form used: ZaniLa Rhyme
The future was her red oyster— Red like her passion, uncloistered. Red like her heart, ripe for a coup. A time long gone, when youth was new. A young conqueror stole her heart, Took a vow they never would part. In time, he cleaved her heart in two. A time long gone, when youth was new. Though battle-scarred she tried again To find a love that was a friend, But her mind, he did not value. A time long gone, when youth was new. Closed to the world, free to the page, With pen of red, she spills out rage. She never knew a love that’s true… A time long gone, when youth was new. The future was her red oyster— A time long gone, when youth was new. ©2021 KT Workman
(Note: [I deviated from the standard fourteen lines, adding in an extra quatrain. The poem seemed to call for it] A Kyrielle Sonnet consists of 14 lines (three rhyming quatrain stanzas and a non-rhyming couplet). Just like the traditional Kyrielle poem, the Kyrielle Sonnet also has a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing as the last line of each stanza). Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet consists of only eight syllables. French poetry forms have a tendency to link back to the beginning of the poem, so common practice is to use the first and last line of the first quatrain as the ending couplet. This would also re-enforce the refrain within the poem. Therefore, a good rhyming scheme for a Kyrielle Sonnet would be: A-a-b-B, c-c-b-B, d-d-b-B, A-B –or- A-b-a-B, c-b-c-B, d-b-d-B, A-B. Definition taken from Shadow Poetry.)
In the depths of the wishing well Dwells the girl of my youthful dreams. Barnacled lips hold in her screams. The scummy water tastes like hell. Stagnant with time, do not swallow Or more regrets will surely follow. Ebbing inside her are raw swells That crash against her cold, closed heart, Which years ago, misplaced its chart. “Keep her safe,” says her hard shell. “Leech her eyes so she cannot see The life she had been meant to lead.” As the darkness weaves its sad spell, She and I bar the hurtful gates, While wishing for a kinder fate. ©2021 KT Workman
(Note: The Constanza, created by Connie Marcum Wong, consists of five or more 3-line stanzas. Each line has a set meter of eight syllables. The first lines of all the stanzas can be read successively as an independent poem, with the rest of the poem weaved in to express a deeper meaning. The first lines convey a theme written in monorhyme, while the second and third lines of each stanza rhyme together. Rhyme scheme: a-b-b, a-c-c, a-d-d, a-e-e, a-f-f. Definition taken from Poets Collective. Introduction – Poetry Forms (poetscollective.org)
Drip-drip-drip, rain slides off the sheet-iron roof, Plink-plink-plinks onto the wayward tin can Placed by wily storms or fickle wind’s goof, Who can rightly say, be it beast or man? The rain cares not where the gentle drips fall, Nor gives a thought as the plinks softly sing To small ears listening behind safe walls, Lulled to sleep by the drip-drip and plink-plink. Silently they creep on tiny wet feet Beneath a cracked pane of misted raised glass. Aqueous drips and plinks, seldom they meet Those to whom they sing at two AM past. Plinks slowly lessen, lightly tread away, Follow the drips as night steps into day. ©2021 KT Workman
(Note: A Shakespearean (English) sonnet consists of 14 lines written in iambic pentameter, and usually has 10 syllables per line. It has three quatrains and a couplet. Rhyme scheme: a-b-a-b, c-d-c-d, e-f-e-f, g-g.)
A hot August day closes its simmering drapes Sultry darkness creeps in on silent, soggy feet A hot August day closes its simmering drapes The sun slinks away in temporary defeat Mimosas curl their leaves, heave a sigh of reprieve Sultry darkness creeps in on silent, soggy feet Katydids, crickets, and frog’s voices interweave A warm breeze soughs through old oaks, tickles Spanish moss Mimosas curl their leaves, heave a sigh of reprieve A whippoorwill calls, shedding the sun’s scorching dross Fireflies come out of hiding, frolic in the yard A warm breeze soughs through old oaks, tickles Spanish moss Through the screened window, Elvis croons, that fifties bard On the front porch, sweet iced tea caresses damp hands Fireflies come out of hiding, frolic in the yard Where children shout “Red Rover!” in my heart’s Southland A hot August day closes its simmering drapes On the front porch, sweet iced tea caresses damp hands A hot August day closes its simmering drapes ©2021 KT Workman
(Note: A Terzanelle is a combination of the villanelle and terza rima poetic forms. It consists of 19 lines containing 5 interlocking tercets, plus a concluding quatrain, in which the 1st and 3rd lines of the 1st tercet appear as refrains. The middle line of each tercet is repeated, reappearing as the last line of the succeeding tercet, with the exception of the center line of the next-to-last stanza, which appears in the quatrain. Each line has the same metrical length.
Rhyme and refrain scheme: A-B-A, b-C-B, c-D-C, d-e-D, e-F-E, f-A-F-A [or f-F-A-A].) Definition taken from: Shadow Poetry website.)
And a special thanks to Ben Alexander at The skeptic’s kaddish whose Terzanelle inspired me.
can you see me
I just don’t know
no longer young
but don’t feel old
not enough wisdom
in my weary soul
lived all these years
so damn little
while I fiddled
where was my heart
where was my mind
picking up sticks
to a time and place
and moved away
don’t need me
to find their way
when I was young
and not yet old
an easy charmed road
did not think
this day would come
old as the hills
©2021 KT Workman
(Note: Though this doesn’t seem to apply to men, we women of a “certain age,” become invisible. This poem is for all the not-seen ladies out there.)
Spring was my mama’s favorite season. She loved gardening, whether it involved vegetables or ornamentals, and when one visited, spring, summer, or fall, outside among the growing things was where one would likely find her. Her front porch sported a multitude of wind chimes, and when I hear mine (on my back porch) “tinkling in the wind,” I think of her. This one is for you, Mama.
March chimes tinkle in the wind, Telling me spring is on the way, Chasing away dark winter days. And I wonder where the wind has been. Unlike winter, spring sports a grin. Yellow-bold, bright and warm and gay. March chimes tinkle in the wind, Telling me spring is on the way. Sometimes brash, chimes dance, drunk on gin. Or perhaps weed entered the fray. Drunk or high or merry, who’s to say? They jump and jingle as they spin— March chimes tinkle in the wind, Telling me spring is on the way. ©2021 KT Workman
(Note: Originating in French lyrical poetry of the 14th century, a rondel poem is a fixed form of verse based on two rhyme sounds and consisting usually of 14 lines divided into three stanzas. The first two lines of the 1st stanza are repeated as the refrain of the 2nd and 3rd stanzas. The meter is open, but usually has eight syllables per line. Rhyme scheme: A-B-b-a, a-b-A-B, a-b-b-a-A-(B)—capital letters represent lines repeated verbatim.)
The morning is heavy, pregnant with spring.
Dew sparkles on the new blades stretched in mass,
Testing their new-found strength; in shouts of green
They greet the rose-soft sunrise, raise their glass,
Salute their warm savior with verve and sass.
“Hello!” shout the iris, waving blue heads.
“Hello!” shout the glads, white, pink, and red.
Near the barn, johnny-jump-ups perk their ears,
Wonder why the fuss from their vain cousins.
After all, from early March they’ve been here,
Yellow and purple, dozens and dozens,
Popping up while the ground is yet frozen.
Johnnys are trailblazers, fearless and bold.
What’s the big deal about a little cold?
©2021 KT Workman
(Rhyme Royal–7-line stanzas, usually iambic pentameter. Rhyme scheme: a-b-a-b-b-c-c)