Young Writers Society

and now for my second poem because i'm attempting to cram in 42 poetic forms in 30 days xD
also edit: this was inspired by that time i saw a supernumerary rainbow before a mock trial competition and then we lost :')

4/1/24
rainbows
(quintilla; Spain; stanza of 5 lines of 8 syllables, ab rhyme scheme but without having 3 consecutive rhyming lines and not ending in a rhyming couplet (most common is abaab, but abbab, aabab, ababa and aabba also work))

rainbows aren't luck. they also shine
for your greatest enemies and
your strongest rivals, so don't whine
if you take a loss, and don't pine
over what slipped away like sand.

4/2/24
to a writer returning from lands of doubt
(American cinquain; United States; 5 lines of 2-4-6-8-2 syllables, written using iambs, no rhyme scheme)

deny
the whispered words.
they do not know your worlds
of wonder. wake from slumber. you
are home.

throwing the rondeau out the window because free verse is calling to me >.>
credit to phantasm and her poem "uncharted waters" for the inspo for "self(-sacrifice)"! also credit to anyone else i may have unintentionally taken inspo from XD

4/2/24
everything i say has been said before

all of my words are stolen. i have been a thief since birth
and i hypothesize i will be 'til the dawn i die.
i am a copycat concatenating commas and colons.
nothing i do is original, least of all these lines.
i need so many synonyms to say the same thing.

the wind shivers palms until they sound like rushing streams.
there is a syntax error in my sense of self(-sacrifice).
press pause…
then (word)play.

{twist your tongue until you're tongue-tied.}

am i only an amalgamation of grammar
and parts of particles, stolen gram by gram
from those who think more than i?
hush. // what if self is only a lapse in speech?
i whisper to a spoonful of sleet:
sometimes i think i lisp in my sleep.

{redo replay rework remake yourself
over and over and under and under until
you finally find what remains resides in
a restricted rezoned redefined reason.}

u & i r 1

we listen to the palm of our hand.
the lines are like shivering streams of wind.

look.

we are the beauty of weeds poking out from
between a tired wall and a jaded ground.
green against sun-faded red and travel-worn gray.

4/3/24

plant with a hat
(limerick; England; 5 lines, lines 1, 2, and 5 anapaests or amphibrachs and lines 3 and 4 anapaests or one iamb plus one anapaest, rhyming aabba)

there once was a plant with a hat
it always had shade and it sat
with the sun at its back,
saying darkness i lack,
until it just withered to that


please wait
(tanka; Japan; 5 lines of 5-7-5-7-7 syllables)

don't dance in the stars
don't reach for the lofty moon
don't fly to the sun
stay here, grounded, next to me
at least until i grow wings


divide our days
(attempted 15-line rondeau; France; 15 lines of 8 to 10 syllables, rhyming aabba aabR aabbaR)

divide our days, direct our hours
decipher minutes, seconds, pow'rs
of ten, we count, we measure time
as if controlling flowing rhyme
is how we fill the fields with flow'rs.

demand the sunrise over bow'rs
diminish that which softly sours
and gently swallow tasteless lime
divide our days

digress from paths to endless tow'rs
determine ways to silence glow'rs
avoid the common tinkling chime
become the ever-present mime
and when we reach the end of hours
divide our days