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:
This is a difficult one for me but I've read it a few times now and it's starting to talk!
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....
I know the feeling...
irrationality
To me this signifies the ultimate chaos - life.
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.
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