Making out under the silvery light
Oblivious to the changes I start to feel
Only she isn’t oblivious and starts to scream
Nobody said the dating life of a werewolf was easy
Moon (an acrostic poem)
Tag Archives: start
Trials (an acrostic poem)
The start to an ordeal is never easy
Reaching down deep to find the follow through can be painful
It can make you want to turn back, give up, curl up in a ball
And yet, there is so much awaiting you on the other end of it all
Look, you know it won’t be easy but…
Success is usually worth the price of admission
Loopy (a cinquain)
A cinquain is a five line poem that has the following form:
2 syllables, 4 syllables, 6 syllables, 8 syllables, 2 syllables
The author is allowed to add or subtract 1 syllable from the count for each line. I decided for my first one I would follow the purest form of a cinquain.
The end
It’s just a start
Waiting for creation
So when you get to the ending
Begin
Fix (an acrostic poem)
Finding all the things that are wrong can be depressing
It can make you want to just throw everything out and get something new
X that idea out, sit down with your list, start at the top and rebuild it and make it yours
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Parrots (an acrostic conversation)
Perhaps he is just sleeping.
And that’s the excuse you want to go with?
Really, he could be just catching some shut-eye.
Realize that I have watched the Monty Python skit like a billion times.
Oh, then yeah, he’s dead
That was anticlimactic.
So do you want to start it from the top again?
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Liberty (an acrostic poem)
Leaving the chains behind is just the start
It means helping the formerly enslaved stand up
Being there to lend a hand in moving forward
Enabling them to not only survive but thrive
Reach for those hands across the divide
Trust that the world will be better in the long run
You can help bring justice for all
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Frank (an acrostic conversation)
For goodness sake, I thought you would be prettier.
Really? That’s how you want to start our date?
Actually, yes. I told you I was honest to a fault when we talked on the phone
Now that was truth in advertising. Refreshing. Still, you’re a jerk, and I’ll be leaving.
Knew that would happen. At least I didn’t have to buy your dinner.
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Overgrown (an acrostic poem)
Overrun with emotions of ineptitude and incompetence
Vines of insecurity choked off what little emotional growth there was
Everything she wanted to do just seemed so hard to even start
Really it was just easier to sit there on her phone
Going from post to post on Instagram excessively and living vicariously
Reaching to hit the heart button but not meaning it
Outside she appeared so normal
When inside she hadn’t seen the sun in so long
Now the ever-present shade just felt right.
Image: q7i2y6d5.stackpathcdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/overgrown-garden-1-400×266.jpg
Pretty (a 100 word story)
Lincoln believed he was very confident in who he was, but still had this aching desire to be called pretty by someone. Hell, anyone. He was called many things, but never that magical word.
Finally, after a long time of searching everywhere, he finally heard the words, “You are pretty, Lincoln.” It put such a huge smile on his face.
He wished he could have hugged the man in the mirror who said it, but instead he wrapped his arms around himself. It might not be much, but it was a start.
He had to be the first to believe.
Image: heyprettybeauty.com/uploads/3/4/4/6/34468089/published/1433381334.jpeg
In the Beginning (a 100 word story)
The darkness grabbed onto his words and crumpled them into tight rejected wads of failure. He typed with such a frenzy to keep ahead of the monster, but it was faster than his imagination, consuming all his ideas and dreams. It then had the nerve to regurgitate its partially digested remains onto the page.
He tried to rearrange the mess into something that hinted at his intentions, but he was not a forensic investigator. The work seemed dead. And to think he thought he was a writer.
He consoled himself. “Well, it’s a start.” He saved his work and shut down.
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