Free....no-one said anything about easy.

is for Free verse

Free verse is just that.  Free from the constraints of rhymes, metres and rules and able to fall into whatever shape the poet or poem chooses. 

Not a form I write to very often.  My poems come into my head with rhymes in situ, and it all stops making any sense if I pluck them out. I struggle with free form.

Writer's block

I try to articulate, roll out flat

snagged scrolls of half-formed poems

long ago brownprints stashed

on the fragile shelves in

the glitterdusty glass lab of time;

people beam into prisms

of this glass world, and I pick up

the degrees of warmth and coolness

that are within range and

have proper names

blue maybe, and opalescent green,

a purplish redhazy love

the greymottled smell of discontent

the angry, spiky ice of violence

that slices hands open when it’s touched;

nothing silkfalls, nothing pebbleplops

into the page, it pants a little,

a slight rise and sink of white

it can wait blank, quiet, patiently breathing

I can wait too, breathing, holding my breath;

words form at their own pace

their body clock does not tick in time

with mine, they dance on a different floor

I can hear their heels tap on wood

muffled slow music beyond the window;

there is nowhere left to hurry to

and hurry back from,

so where are you going?






That first week went by pretty fast! A bit hassly - my weekend being Fri/Sat, but things worked out okay.

    

Posted for the A-Z Challenge 2014, originally created by Arlee Bird at Tossing It Out.