Image taken 7 May 2017 at the Denver Aquarium.
The above image is the property of Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl/Naughty Netherworld Press/Poetry of the Netherworld. You are welcome to use it, but please credit one of the above if you do.
I'm going to share a poem now. You can read the notes after the poem if you're so inclined, or ignore them if you'd rather. Whatever.
It's a long-un. You have been warned!
I don't believe I had a sundae
Sundae on that Sunday
Sunday when we celebrated your birthday
Birthday number 27 in 2017.
2017 was another year filled with challenges
Challenges in a challenging life
Life often feels like I'm swimming in sludge
Sludge that won't budge while wearing boots of cement.
Cement clogs my mental abyss while I drink my coffee
Coffee leaves a vivid taste of bitterness on my tongue
Tongue known to smudge conversation with awkward utterances
Utterances the Shiny Happy People need the Rosetta Stone to translate.
Translate my colorful, shimmering stories to something bleak as charcoal
Charcoal stains the charred landscape in a place with no butterflies
Butterflies have departed the world on tiny pixie wings
Wings on the wind, never to return.
Return now to the beginning of this rambling discourse
Discourse regarding the matter of me not having a sundae
Sundae on the Sunday when we celebrated your birthday
"Birthdays should be jubilant," proclaim the Shiny Happy People; you are happiest when things are low-key.
Low-key Loki trips the light fantastic through the leaves
Leaves sprinkled in imaginary sand in my mind
Mind gone wool-gathering like it is wont to do
Do you remember that day when we had lunch with the fishes?
Fishes swam beside us, but we didn't go beach-combing
Beachcombing requires a beach, but there was none to be found
Found in our landlocked land surrounded by mountains
Mountains where the sun shines gingery golden.
Golden is the name of the town I grew up in
In a place where I was as out of place as a butterfly in a wetsuit
Wetsuit or toga, I was always dressed wrong
Wrong for the snobs in that town of my youth.
Youth is long gone, I bless the day it passed on
On into the past, at last, leaving me the chance
The chance to heal, but healing comes slowly
Slowly the memories return of that day.
Day when we celebrated your 27th year
Year when I didn't have a sundae on Sunday
Sunday came and went with no hot fudge or whipped cream
Cream-colored clouds floated by in the sky.
359 words
Today's poem is a loop poem. Loop Poetry is a poetry form created by Hellon. There are no restrictions on the number of stanzas nor on the syllable count for each line. In each stanza, the last word of the first line becomes the first word of line two, last word of line 2 becomes the first word of line 3, last word of line 3 becomes the first word of line 4. This is followed for each stanza. The rhyme scheme is abcb.
Variations:
1. Stanzas, writers choice on the number, no rhyming, the last word, first word scheme is maintained.
2. One long stanza, no limit on number of lines, no rhyming scheme, the last word, first word scheme is maintained.
3. Couplets mixed with 4 line stanzas, the last word, first word scheme is maintained in the stanzas. It can also be used in the couplets. Rhyme scheme is ab, cc, defg, hh, ii, jklm, nn, oo.
I went with Variation #1.
I have a new idea. I've always wanted to become more consistent with my photography shares. I have folder upon folder of photos rescued from my deceased iPhone 7. I plan to share these photos and combine them with a poem, every Sunday-ish. When I've done sharing a folder, if it's a big one like Folder #3 from 2017 is, I will have a new poetry book!
~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors
The Prompts
