List (an acrostic poem)

Looking at all the items that were on the page

It was enough to make her depressed

So, she pulled out her lighter and flicked the switch

The smoke was her peace offering with herself

Wise (an acrostic poem)

Words tumbled from his fingers and pooled upon the page

Irrigating the fertile ground allowing new thoughts to take root

Slowly those ideas grow tall and strong, awaiting harvest

Examining his crop, he began harvesting those who’s time had come and pruning the rest

Poll (an acrostic poem)

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People, can I ask all y’all a question?

Or would you like to keep your opinions to yourself

Lol I’ve seen your Facebook page

Looks like your dying to let the world know, so sit down and answer

Blah (an acrostic poem)

But the plot will come if you just type words.  You just have to believe.

Like that would really happen.  He laughed bitterly.

All it meant was the letter vomit on the page might be some sort of Rorschach story form.

He closed the document and went to bed.  He had seen enough.

 

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Word Count (an acrostic poem)

When sitting down in front of her computer

Olivia began her daily penance

Racing fingers

Dancing on the keyboard

 

Crafting new realms from the ether

Outpouring her imagination onto the page

Until she felt she could write no more that day

Nanowrimo would push her to become the writer she wanted to be

That or break her will to write till New Years.

 

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Red Ink (an acrostic poem)

Rallying all his reserves, Fannie pushed on

Every time the pen touched the paper

Doubt in her teaching competence would grow

 

It was always soul-crushing being an impartial arbiter

Now her hands were covered in the remains of her grading rubric

Killing her will to continue as her soul bled out on the page

 

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Flavor (an acrostic poem)

Finding the right words to say

Letting them linger on the tongue

And then hurling them onto the page

Viscous remnants of enlightening ideas

Obscuring their true deeper meaning

Removing all taste from the text

Hack (an acrostic poem)

How hard is it to slay my story?

All I can do now is bleed out on the page.

Can’t even make a good stab at  it

Killing me that I might only be a …

Wiped (an acrostic poem)

Wrestling with an empty page

Inscribing my soul in black and white

Putting it out there naked for all to see

Energy dripping from open wounds

Determined to finish before I fall asleep