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Thursday, September 18, 2008

Black Box



Totally Optional Prompt: Blank Verse
This week, let's write a poem in blank verse. That means it doesn't have to rhyme, but it does have to have meter.

You can use the old workhorse, iambic pentameter. Or branch out, and pick a less usual meter. Or do something else entirely: after all, it's Totally Optional.

Please feel free to read others' work at the link and to play along with this terrific Thursday meme.


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black box

reads like forensic files
bread crumbs' line a map
no reason, no logic
no right and no wrong

passions aren't graphed
the grid a cold track
bones of her trip
denote breath and not

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Fractal created in Apophysis.

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5 comments:

Anonymous said...

This is a difficult one for me but I've read it a few times now and it's starting to talk!

paisley said...

if life came with a black box recorder like planes do,, oh the tales that they would tell ... a whole different atmosphere would invade the funeral.... what fun....

Anonymous said...

I know the feeling...

irrationality

anthonynorth said...

To me this signifies the ultimate chaos - life.

Stan Ski said...

Some things just happen - by accident or design. Reasons why and how may be determined. But what about the people it happened to? How were they feeling? The black box is a mystery to me.