Pillow (an acrostic poem)

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Plowing and sowing the world of sleep

It was hard work, but he was a farmer to his soul

Little furrows stretched to the horizon containing the roots of fertile dreams and scream-inducing nightmares

Lying there, waiting to be harvested

Once he was ready and picked them, Morbius would pay him handsomely for this crop

Wait till the slumbering humans were served these delectables!

Nervous (an acrostic poem)

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Never sang in front of more than a couple dozen people before

Evert could feel his legs try to quiver with just the mere thought of the packed concert hall

Ready and waiting for him to come on stage and open his mouth to let those songs free

Vivian smiled warmly as she straitened his collar.  “You’ve got this.”

Oh, he got something all right.  Got to go to the bathroom that is.

Under the harsh bathroom light, he looked himself in the eye and thought..

So what was it going to be?  That’s when he threw up.

Mile (an acrostic poem)

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Making that walk down the hallway, her feet heavier with each step

If she had more time to think, more time to make sure, more time to know if this was right

She was now having doubts, yet here she was wearing white and wondering if she had an “I do” in her.

Everyone was waiting, but looking down that aisle felt like she was walking her last…

Moss (an acrostic poem)

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Maybe the rolling stone wasn’t that great after all

Only by finding a quiet, still place can you put down some roots

Soul-nourishing peace grounding away the pent-up anxious energy

Soaking in patience waiting for the right stone to come

Scale (an acrostic poem)

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So much angst when he stepped onto the platform

Cold sweat dripped down his back as the numbers cycled

All of his hard work undone by pizza and wings on his birthday

Leaving him waiting for the bad news

Except when he compared the number to that of an NFL lineman, well then he was okay

Explode (an acrostic poem)

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Everyone is waiting for the election results

Xantax has become the concession of choice as we watch

Purple states become more red or more blue

Leading to highs and lows for both sides

Only at the end of it all

Do we accept the results and figure out what is next or

Everything going to go big boom?

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.

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The end

It’s just a start

Waiting for creation

So when you get to the ending

Begin

Inflate (an acrostic poem)

It all began with the damn balloon animals

Now it was a crazy full-scale balloon house

For goodness sake, at least he didn’t have a balloon wife

Looking back it should have been obvious

As Peter was always obsessive-compulsive

Though this was taking that compulsion to an extreme

Everyone kept waiting for it all to pop

 

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