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.

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.

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.

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