07

08/18

A Poem a month

6:37 pm by L. Jacob. Filed under: Poetry

Every month, there is a local poetry group that you can go an listen to poetry or prose at the Shastea Lounge in Pawtuxet Village. I’ve decided to try a poem a month (at least) to have something ready. I wanted to try different forms other than my usual free-style.  I found a website called poets.org that has different forms. The first form I did is Abecedean. You use the first letter of the alphabet to start each line of the poem. Here’s my attempt:

 

My Lust for Gold

Abecederian

 

All the

Boys had me

Charge them

Dollars and cents and

Experience

For sex–

Good sex cost a

High amount.

I never had

Jerks that good, even for

Kicks that were

Limited when I was young.

Men even older

Never insisted

On money but

Preferred

Quality over quantity.

Reaching for

Substance,

Truth and

Unabashed

Vanity

What did I

Xpect for

Your lust?

Zilch.

29

07/18

On my mind

11:11 am by L. Jacob. Filed under: Dark Mystic Quill,Poetry,War Mage

War Mage….

How tough it is to write. But I have to; there’s a fan base that’s looking for it. Or there may be after the Cons I’m going to.

I’ve written eight parts of the “Devour” story on Maxwell Thomas’ website, but I’m putting up one part a week. Right now there’s two parts, so things are going to get interesting.

Writing War Mage is like work. There’s so many things I want to put in there, and so many things I want to make sure I don’t put in there. Like too many vampires. I have to put in the Black Lions, and the dragons, and the werewolves, and, of course, the soldiers, what they’ve gone through. Someone I know suggested I go down to the VA and try to talk to vets there and get information. I don’t know how to go about that, but it’s an idea to try.

My poetry has stalled. I went to a poetry/prose reading and it turned into a revival. Now me, not being Christian, felt a little out of place. After what they did, I’m going to read “Trigger”, a poem about school shootings at the next poetry get-together. The other thing I want to do is try hymns to the muses, or the gods that I believe in and work with. I don’t know how that will go over, but that’s what I’m itching to do. Maybe the muses will give me something before the next reading.

Episode 21 is up and ready of the Dark Mystic Quill. It’s about Success and what it means. It’s available on Apple podcasts.

09

07/18

Out in the World (Or: The Baby)

7:20 pm by L. Jacob. Filed under: Poetry

First draft.

 

For five years I have worked,
Slaved, bled, and cried;
Now, I send my baby,
Out into the world.

The world will see what beautiful prose
I have wrought. And Spielburg himself will call
To direct the motion picture,
And Brad Pitt will be the leading man.

I have visions of best selling books.
I am number one on Amazon.
Everywhere.
I need to pick out a dress for the interviews.

Until…
I get my first one-star review.

The world has rejected
My baby, my most precious one,
That I paid to edit, and design, and lay out,
Shelling out half my paycheck.

No, this cannot be true!
It must be some mistake,
As I tell the reviewer.
And then I start a war.

My name is dragged through the mud
Of Twitter, and Facebook,
And so much social media
I am a failure.

Or maybe, only this book
Was not what I had dreamed.
It’s time to practice
Having another baby.

07

06/18

POUNCE!

4:51 pm by L. Jacob. Filed under: Poetry

UP! Goes the blanket.
The little lion sitting
On the dresser
Leaps through the air–
And flattens the fabric mountain.

HISS! Goes the lump
Underneath the blanket.
The little lion tracks
with his golden-slitted eyes
The hidden prey.

TWITCH! Goes the tail
Of the tiny golden lion.
He raises his rear and wiggles,
Ready…
Waiting…

OW! Yells the human
As the kitten’s claws
Dig into the captured prey—

My hand.

01

06/18

POUNCE!

5:07 pm by L. Jacob. Filed under: Poetry

POUNCE!

UP! Goes the blanket.
The little lion sitting
On the dresser
Leaps through the air–
And flattens the fabric mountain.

SWISH! Goes the lump
Underneath the blanket.
The little lion tracks
with his golden-slitted eyes
The hidden prey.

TWITCH! Goes the tail
Of the tiny golden lion.
He raises his rear and wiggles,
Ready…
Waiting…

OW! Yells the human
As the kitten’s claws
Dig into the captured prey—

My hand.

Poem read at the Schastea Lounge in Pawtuxet Village, 5/31/18

21

05/18

Poem – The Catmuse

11:15 am by L. Jacob. Filed under: Poetry,Writing

The Catmuse

Waiting on the muse
I sit at the keyboard.
Fingers poised and ready.
Mind open and receptive.

I stare at the blank page
My mind wanders,
Characters? Setting? Plot?
What to type next?

Then Tom, the wise old cat
Of my pride
Comes to tickle the ebony
Keys of the keyboard.

s43o056 F11
My screen explodes.
Tom lays across the keyboard.
F5 48957

I push him off,
he pushes back

He is my muse today.