Comic (an acrostic poem)

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Creating sagas out of pictures and words

Organized in windowed snapshots of time

Manipulating sounds silently through POW and SNIKT

It is an artform consumed by young and old

Capturing the human condition with characters who are more than that

Song (an acrostic poem)

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Sounds dancing harmoniously within her soul

Oozing the gospel of the human experience like the sweat dripping from her pores

Never missing the beat of her nervous heart

Giving a moment that connected all dots, all the people, all the experiences

Narrow (an acrostic poem)

Neal felt the walls come closer together the farther underground he went

As they constricted his movement, his breathing became more rapid

Restricting his vision to a narrow strip of darkness in front of him

Raspy sounds escaped his mouth as his breath became shallow

Obstinately he pushed on as his vision began to gray out

Wiggling free he took a deep breath and felt the freedom to the bottom of his lungs

 

Image: cumberlandcaverns.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Cumberland-Caverns-Caving.jpg

Dizzy (an acrostic poem)

Don’t ever stop spinning around

It makes you the center of the universe

Zany as that sounds

Zero reasons not to do this unless

You get motion sickness easily, then…

 

Image: i.pinimg.com/564x/48/57/10/485710ba35398e72fe78cdd296b87e00.jpg

Nightmare (an acrostic poem)

New sounds erupted from behind Marc

It spurred him to run even faster

Gun shots rang out, shattering the asphalt on either side of him

He made a hard right turn to get some cover from a parked Hummer

The tires on the vehicle soon flattened

Marc fumbled for his gun before peaking up above the hood

A silence descended on the scene, and Marc couldn’t see his assailants

Rapidly his heart hammered as he waited for a target

Everything exploded when his alarm went off and he woke up

 

Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9c/Hummer_H2_.jpg

Soul (an acrostic poem)

Sounds escaped the sax that built a castle of blue ice

Over that the horns mourned the loss of innocence

Until the drums came in, then picked up the tempo

Letting everything melt into an ecstasy of melody

 

Image: publicdomainpictures.net/pictures/170000/velka/chalked-blackboard-saxophone.jpg

Poetry (an acrostic poem)

Perhaps it is the way words touch our souls

Or it could be the sensualness of their sounds

Either way, when paired down to their essence

The ability to inflict an emotion through abstract symbols

Reaches the primal part of our humanity

Yielding art and a sense of wonder