Iambic Dreams

Here are some iambic pentameter pieces (with variations). Nothing really outstanding, but I haven't gotten a chance to post anything in a while and thought I would get something up on the site.

Mask

You’re constantly cute and clothed, adorned as if 

You’re going to a fancy dinner club.

You’re always wearing blush and make-up. Why?

My Dear, I will assume that your intent

Is to conceal your flaws, but you are less

Than perfect, charming girl. Embrace the truth!

 

 

Art for the Health of It

A young girl, free of cancer comes to me

And asks me, “Will you paint my face and arm

With cancer ribbons?” I oblige. She thinks

Back on appointments, telling me her tale                           

Of finding home in art and songs. At age ten,                     

She’s stronger than most- facing death and winning.     

“I felt compelled,” she says, “to be brave and fight.”

Maybe the future holds tattoos instead

Of temporary paint to honor this

Survivor, here to have her screening read.

 

 

 

Shopping, Long After the Honeymoon

Tomato, vinegar, rice, soup, spice, tea,

Milk, eggs, maize, gizzard, deli, jelly, bread.

She hates to fight. Why couldn’t they agree?

She’s left with the cart. “It’s more than food,” he said.

She took the cart up the dairy aisle and paused.

The milk insulted since she had no child.

The cold and murky drink (on sale) had caused

Some pain and filled her mind, but then she smiled.

…Mary holds the boy in loving arms.

The Virgin and child sit spooning luke-warm milk.

In David’s painting, the olive branch’s charms

Outweigh the veil’s, although designed of silk…

She thought of the painting, hopeful. Time will give

Her what she needs. Until then, she will live.

 

 

Meet Jack Sparrow              

Ever since I was young, I knew the sea.                                               

I knew the ocean spray, the waves, and roll  

Of the ship, still seeking sand and treasure chests.                          

That morning, clear as yesterday, we sailed

Away from port. The sky turned dark and grey.           

My father warned, “Son, the weather brings

Bad omens: pirates, danger. Look for flags!”                                      

At eight years old, I didn’t grasp the peril.                            

The crew hauled sails and yelled as the storm progressed;

Despite my size, I tried to help. [Cue flags.]

 

The pirates had arrived with strength. “No, please.”       

…The foes, on board… my father, hit and bleeding…

 Soon everything became a baneful blur.

The sea betrayed me. Pirates came for me,

A sitting duck, now orphaned, spewing tears.                                    

In one fell swoop, the crew was gone. Why me?

 

The pirates brought me aboard their ship to make

A pirate out of me. Without my parents,

I took on the role, a ‘lost’ boy Peter Pan

Would brag about and Wendy would condemn.

Reviews

[gabi123]

Excellente! I've never actually seen a successful collection of poems, but this was executed perfectly! Excellent ideas, and overall good general point. A solid 80/100!

[Kelley]

These were all great Kathryn ! But I liked "Art for the Health of It" the best."
It was heart felt and left you wondering if hope would be enough.

Anyway great work thanks for sharing.

Kelley