Day 29: Posted late for reasons of feeling like crap yesterday

Day 29: Briefly research a poetic form of your choice and write a poem according to the rules of that particular form. It can be a received form or a nonce form.


A Sonnet to Writer's Block


To be a writer who cannot write
To have flesh strain, mind so weak
To be a flower that can't find light
To face a page so empty and bleak

To to have desire and not the skill
To make something of beauty and art
To have the willing but not the will
To have hands that work, but not a heart

Like a falling wall you have to build
By piling crumbling brick upon brick
You put one on one with each stone you wield
But it falls away, for the mortar won't stick

Still, I say push on and push through
For that's how this poem came to you

Day 30: The End of the Road

Day 30: Write a poem employing extended metaphor to illustrate the experience of the last 30 days as you were participating in the challenge.


Yet Another Prose Poem.

The last thirty days of my life have been like a very narrow road with pillows and marshmallows on each side and the simple rules that you don't know what the end will be like and you can only take one step each day. Which at first seems a terrible speed limit and you're on this road and you're screaming at the slowness of your pace and stamping your foot and going, "Come on, come on, come on" to some invisible force in front of you in the line, but then somewhere around the first or second turn it becomes "oh thank god, I only have to take one step at a time" because the marshmallows and pillows look awfully tempting and you know the fall wouldn't hurt anything but your ego, but you take that step and then the next and let tomorrow be tomorrow's problem and then it becomes second nature and then it ends and you miss it like you'd miss an old friend who's just left after an extended visit because while you adjusted around them, you think it'll be nice to adjust back to the way things were. It's a good road, but I wouldn't want to live there.