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Bipasha Dutt Apr 2018
In this impermanent life - we are struggling with some permanent pain.
David Williams Apr 2013
He enters looking bedraggled, tired and worn out, his skin like vellum, blank and pale.
Lifting his eyes to catch their gaze he gives a slight nod to acknowledge their presence.
He scans the room as he would a poem seeking an indent that leads to a quiet corner.
A half-lit light casts a shadow on the flock wallpaper, ink stained.
He sits hidden from view, away from plagiaristic eyes. Head In hand
Scribbling while listening for a new word, a muse sings, emanating an un-heard
Beat that guides his rhythm while searching for that elusive vowel. On the floor
Is a scattering of pencil shavings and broken lead, frustration at the loss of an adjective.
The half rhyme squeezes like a tourniquet on the brain…
Frustration runs high as enjambment slips off the page and gathers in reflective pools.

The Lay Pastoral reads an Elegy to the passing of Sir Rondeau Redouble, he lead a very lonely life ascending and then diminishing becoming less Didactic, the Footle holds a Lanterne for the loss, while the Limerick found it quite humorous.

At the bar a Stanza of poets gather, disciples of Villanelle, and regale of their latest triumphs in Women’s Quarterly. Then silence falls as Suzette Prime performs her latest Burlesque she is in good Shape. The Epulaeryu’s compare their Diamante while eating their babba ghanoosh. At the pool table the movers and shakers decant opinions on the latest ‘form’ something to do with A,E,I,O,U…Acrostic looks it up and down looking puzzled, Blank verse remains silent,

They dissect, analyse the entrails, the faint hearted feel a little Grook. The atmosphere is tense. Verbs drift like dust in the light, causing confusion, they mop their brows with a tired senryu. The haiku’s have little to say on the matter…

A Quintain of intellectuals quietly sit, the Sicilian sipping slim line Monoku’s (no ice) hoping for a Couplet before the end of the night. On a stool sit’s the barfly spilling his Bio over the counter top exposing an Ode-ious life, metaphorically speaking. On stage the hottest group in town… Chant Royal and the Syllables… singing their latest Sestina it reached 39 in the hit parade, the notes drift across the room resting on the floor congealing into a poet-tree fountain…they feel at home as the last act MC McWhirtle enthrals with his latest Ballad…the barman Ric Tameter calls time, the evening is a Rap. The club is Epic…

© 27/3/2013
Mark Toney  Oct 2019
Monoku Soup
Mark Toney Oct 2019
moustached monoku critic channels Seinfeld - no haiku for you
1/4/2019 - Poetry form: Monoku - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
Mark Toney  Mar 2020
17 or less
Mark Toney Mar 2020
moustached monoku critic channels Seinfeld - no haiku for you

© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
1/4/2019 - Poetry form: Monoku - A type of poem which is made up of a single horizontal line consisting of seventeen syllables or less. Traditionally considered as a haiku writing, Monoku appeared as an independent style of poetry in the 1970s. The first letter should not be capitalized. - © 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Mark Toney Oct 2019
One happy-go-lucky senryu
Was caught impersonating a haiku
They levied no fines
But deleted two lines
Now she's a stick-in-the-mud monoku
1/10/2019 - Poetry form:  Limerick - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019

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