Awful, but I felt like writing and poetry + 6:55 a.m. don't always mix. It's on the lj too. Something different for me--trying to work with actual structure and form, whoa! I'm not happy with the last line in particular but it'll do for now.
Also, I never really noticed just how hard it is to figure out the syllable breakdown of some words. My meter is screwy and a lot of the rhymes are soft, but hey. You try writing a Spenserian sonnet at this hour. Iambic pentameter is not as easy as you might think.
Staring at the blinking neon numbers,
dim chartreuse entrances—wide eyed lying
flat on my back as guilt washes over
my body like the flow of sea crying,
creeping stealthily toward dunes, sighing.
You never mentioned her—that’s not my fault.
You smiled, shrugged. Thought you were teasing
until I felt your hand on my thigh, taut
fingers squeezing gently, then brushing soft,
tickling my ribs. I laughed helplessly.
Your arm came ‘round me, but I did not stop
your empty gestures. You grinned drunkenly
at my indulgent smile. I know next day,
you’ll forget. I won’t. I should not have stayed.
2 comments:
My hobby, talking casually in Iambic pentameter :)
Oh xkcd. ( :
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