Friday, May 3, 2013

Sevenling (It's the law)

It's the law!  Buckle UP!
Hang UP!  Speed UP!  No
wait, forget that last one.

Tell the truth!  Cross your heart --
hope to die -- cross your fingers;
don't let them catch that last one.

Perfectly timed tears still ticketing pen.



A note on form: The Sevenling was one of the early forms I explored and to be quite honest it still puzzles me a bit. The poem has an seven lines (go figure) and each of the first two stanzas has an element of three (what exactly that means is for the experts to understand and me never to figure out). The final stanza is a single line that "should act as a narrative summary or punchline or as an unusual juxtaposition."

I think what I like most about the form is that it should be "mysterious, offbeat or disturbing, giving a feeling that only part of the story is being told." Oh, and some of my are definitely odd. Just for the fun of it, I have included all of my previous sevenlings.  Some more odd than others....



Powerless to Help
She stood there in the corner--her back to me
tears ran like wild fire from her eyes
with trembling lips she refused to turn to me
Fear bubbled up within me--holding me still
the desire to calm overwhelmed
with trembling arms I reached out to her with love
I curse the stupid chair and kiss her finger


Sevenling (I came across)
I came across a receipt in the hamper,
change rattling about in the washing machine,
and a twenty dollar bill in the lint trap.

I turned myself around searching
for my lost marbles, my misplaced lip balm,
and my elusive car keys. "Where else can I look?"

Aside from the keys in the fridge, I really should check my pockets.


Sevenling (I remember)
I remember the smell of fresh popped popcorn,
frogs flipping onto lily pads but mostly into water,
and the evil looking clowns drinking from water guns.
I wish to forget the sound of the organ grinder,
the sound of coins clinking against metal, and
the feel of being shot. But not the lesson learned.
Never trust a monkey wearing a top hat carrying a pocketbook.


Sevenling (Your laugh sounds like)
Your laugh sounds like nails
scratching on a chalkboard, tires
screeching, and jackhammers on a busy street.

I grew up on country music and reading
Stephen King. Have you ever heard of
Carrie, Misery, or how about Firestarter?

You have way more to worry about than your car being keyed.

3 comments:

Brian Miller said...

ha. how come my tears never stop me from getting a ticket....just saying...smiles..have never written one of these...have read a few...its interesting...hmmm maybe i will this week...

Mary said...

Enjoyed this!! You have mastered the form!

Nico said...

Cool! I like this form, though I've never written one. That last line opens a world of possibilities for the poet--a humorous closing, a wise saying, a line that takes the previous a totally different direction. Nicely done on this one and the others as well. Tears are powerful things!