The elements of the Sevenling are:
1. a heptastich, a poem in 7 lines made up of 2 tercets followed by a single line. metered at the discretion of the poet.
3. composed with 3 complimentary images in the first tercet and 3 parallel images in the second tercet. The end line is a juxtaposed summary of the 2 parallels, a sort of “punchline”.
4. the poem should be titled “Sevenling: (first few words of poem).
“Today, I’d like you to challenge you to write a poem that similarly presents a scene from an unusual point of view. Perhaps you could write a poem that presents Sir Isaac Newton’s discovery from the perspective of the apple. Or the shootout at the OK Corral from the viewpoint of a passing vulture. Or maybe it could be something as everyday as a rainstorm, as experienced by a raindrop.”
Credit: Gabriel Isaak
Because you brought hope too,
I thought we were meant to meet.
Your foot prints deep diagonals in the sand,
Trails of hair caught in the winds thrall.
Eyes caramel touched by ebony,
Mirrored my eyes of coals marbled, my ravens plumage too.
Your locks dance, as my wings reach towards you.
You were my olive branch, but you stood there starring as if —
You were caught in the storm too,
Feet weighted to the ground, cement.
My claws didn’t indent your fine sweater — the wool could’ve snarled my talons.
Your lids flutter, strange, wide as if I’d surprised you.
And when I chirped, (squawked to some), you understood my peril,
The angst of having nothing left inside to fly.
Not to bleed and call forth the ocean’s tyrants.
For a while I stood, peered —
And on your arm, my ruffled feathers rested,
Your strange white-talons graze my head,
And my feathers are swept a moment by skin.
Maybe, you could understand a moment,
Survival without security.
Your eyes translated a kind of pain, our loss both,
Mine without a mate to soar, or the immortality of eggs;
Yours what? A loss I did not know except a need to rest,
For hours I stood shaking, your face nuzzled mine,
Any your limbs folded under, we slept soft on your coat.
Then, the slender sun lit,
You stretched one arm, head tilted,
Our eyes met, as you turned your other limb, and laughed ( ravens laugh too, you know),
I teetered awhile and the conversation clear, despite my peeps, your chatter in response.
Then, you turned, squelching footprints marked your trail from the sea.
So, I arose, and in dawns flight I left behind the blight before your presence;
I didn’t feel alone, I didn’t feel so lost,
I cawed once more.
Then, I drifted with gentle currents and thought,
We were both the better for our nights rest, our meeting.
“Are there things you sometimes need to get off your chest? When was the last time you felt strongly that someone needed to see things from your point of view? I think this prompt lends itself perfectly to a Blitz Poem.”
Credit: Alex Ilby
Such pressure rising as the dim lake drowns
Putrid water invades mr lungs, crushes my chest
Chest choking salt-water terrified
Chest rasping with each tiny breath
Breath weighted with ocean filth
Breath that’s sticky, wet, toxic
Toxic fears cripple my legs, tire-out hands treading
Toxic fears of the half-dead: I’m gasping
Gasping, a dumbbell crushing my lungs
Gasping as I let out deep breathes to cleanse
Cleanse my spirit of skin shivering
Cleanse my heart of this stress-inducing love
Love that drowns and makes me whole
Love that lets me finally find
Find a blissful beach without monstrous waves
Find a warm place on the sand to sleep
Sleep, I yearn for it as banshees screech
Sleep, I beg for it as the predators howl
Howl as I quiver, biting my nails
Howl as my courage trickles away– I’m outwitted
Outwitted by breathless panic, desperate pain
Outwitted, the Minotaurs talons clawing my neck
Neck enwrapped with silken scarves choking
Neck bundled beneath feather-silk, dreams killing
Killing me softly, these life-altering responsibilities
Killing me softly, these rigid expectations
Expectations you hold of I so meek
Expectations you hold, not understanding —
Understanding I’m a pins width from crashing
Understanding how with difficulty, I have strived
Strived to be where I am
Strived to be myself and arise
Arise, but not to discover I’m disadvantaged
Arise, but not to ignore my intuitive doubts
Doubts as steel wool scratches
Doubts as I’m carried out by the tide in the storm’s silence
Silence, if only for a moment I can collapse
Silence, self-care to reforge my walls
Walls of back-breaking stone, tough alloys
Walls that keep the creatures harming at bay, to —
To keep me safe, crippled shoulders un-tensed
To keep my bastion strong, so I can lay me down
Lay me down without your vise-like grip engraved
Lay me down to recover, before I rise to respire and inhale
Gripping my hands, crescent marks engraved
No trembling stress shocking, only mountain air to inhale.
Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this Tale Weaver’s Prompt based on the figure of death. Emily Dickinson’s poem “I could not stop for Death” and John Donne’s Holy Sonnet – “Death Be Not Proud” seem to say exactly what needs to be said for me on the prompt. And whatever I do, I can’t think of something I could say better than these poets due regardimg the personification of death. Please enjoy!
Today’s NaPoWriMo is to “write a poem that explicitly incorporates alliteration (the use of repeated consonant sounds) and assonance (the use of repeated vowel sounds).” For A to Z Challenge the GoodReads quote is from the letter L. As well, thanks to Pricless Joy for hosting FFftAW.
“The thing about love is that you will never run out of it. It’s an ever-flowing river. So go ahead and LOVE. What are you saving all this love for — death?” ― Kamand Kojouri
The river she flows fluent, flourishing in her mad descent,
Rapids, water reeling past rocks leading her to a path of providence.
Fast, and fleet, a river rivaling; I’ve experienced —
On the weary trail, the river cutting, crushing the rocks.
She carves her path, ploughing silt to the shore,
Debris of dramatic, erosion deciding on the the crooked carved path.
The water, she must flow, finding her fabulous spark in the light of —
Lumionous sunlight, searing in the afternoon heat.
For this river runs through the desert, the orange, organic trails,
Mixed with red-rock, rizing in the Arizona afternoon.
Cliffs creating a canyon so deep and wide, where the water dances through.
No one to stop her destruction of rock, her pounding so hard it hurts,
But the river rivals all, keeps on carving her way —
Through the canyon cringing, when she chops off more silt.
Off its brilliant fire, she finds a place where the —
River rests in waterfalls crashing and carniverous,
Then she wanes as she reaches shore and and lays back breathing,
At ease, she is pleased and settles,
Against the sand of some beach, somewhere; she’s oblivious —
(I truly meant for this to be Flash Fiction, but the story just developed. Sorry about the way – over word count.)
Grandma June huffed at Natalie, her granddaughter visiting her at home.”You’re not getting any younger, you’re thirty-eight. You can’t barely have babies anymore!”
Natalie rolled her eyes at Grandma June,”Gran, I’m an elementary school teacher. I like going home and not having to worry about kids.”
June sighed,”It was that man, you were supposed to marry. He’s a thief and stole your heart; I’m right aren’t I?”
Natalie ignored June’s question. She hated when her Grandma or anyone, talked about Christopher. She’d never admit he was her one.
He hadbeen since she was in grade ten and Christopher an attractive senior in high school. It was when he had first asked Natalie out. They’d broken-up, having had incompatible lives with Christopher away at university soon after.
Then, seven-years-ago, they’d ran into each other and started talking and dating again. Natalie had convinced herself this was finally it. Sadly, a few weeks before the wedding, Christopher had disappeared; the memories were agony for her.
Two-week’s later, Grandma June called Natalie up to invite her to a wine and cheese night she was hosting for her neighbours. She had tried to decline but June was adamant Natalie attend.
She arrived at her Grandma June’s surprisingly lively wine party, in jeans and a white t-shirt. She had barely bothered to apply makeup as Natalie had come from the gym and was worn out.
“Oh you came,” Grandma June said excitedly, approaching Natalie as she let herself inside. She hugged June and kissed her cheek, as June poured Natalie a large glass of red wine and filled her plate with bread and cheese. She winked at Natalie and left her alone in a small sitting room to rest before joining the other guests.
“Natalie?” A deep voice said. She turned on the sofa towards the sitting room door. Christopher’s voice shocked her, she had almost doused herself in red wine. His familiar timber filled Natalie with great pain. She peered up at him feeling raw, as if he’d only left her yesterday without explanation.
Tears began dripping down Natalie’s cheeks; she was crying and couldn’t stop herself. Christopher immediately sat down on the sofa beside Natalie and pulled her close; he wiped her tears away with his thumb. She tried to jerk out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her move.
“I’m not letting you go, ever again,” Christopher swore.”I can’t explain much about why I had to leave you, only that I didn’t have a choice.”
Natalie shoved him hard, “You have nothing more to say, nothing at all?”
Christopher was noticeably upset, “I told you I worked as an IT consultant. But I could never tell you or anyone who I worked for until recently. I worked for Special Forces in the army and I was called out to a job. It’s the only thing I can’t about. The job lasted years, and I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone. We saved countless lives, but it was awful what I did to you and being without you. I’m sorry.”
Natalie rubbed her swollen eyes, “You’re a liar Christopher. You could’ve mentioned something, anything. What do you want now? To stay for a while and then leave?To rip me apart again?”
Christopher buried his face in his hand, before gazing up at her: “I’m out now Natalie. I swear to you I work for regular businesses now, nothing to do with Special Forces or the army. I’ve no more secrets other than experiences of war and blood. I came back here for you, I even moved into a house on your Grandma June’s street. I hoped somehow, you and I could be together again. I love you.”
Natalie made a sound of frustration. Emotions of both anger and feeling relieved assaulted her. Despite her anger at Christopher, Natalie knew inside, there would never be another man for her but him.
To Christopher’ surprise, Natalie moved to sit in Christopher’s lap and be closer to him, to breathe in how delicious he smelt.
“Marry me now and we can do whatever celebration our families want later. I’m still mad at you Christopher but you’re it for me. I’ve always loved you and always will. If you can be with me and never leave me like that again, I can forgive you.”
Christopher nodded at Natalie, saying: “I promise.” He held Natalie tightly and kissed her lips hungrily.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the sitting room door and Grandma June walked in, a smile on her face. June’s boyfriend Nigel was with her and so was the local United Church minister.
Natalie looked at Christopher, “Did you do all this?”
Christopher shook his head, squeezing Natalie tight and kissing her cheek. He pulled out a beautiful sapphire and diamond ring set from his pocket. He slid the engagement ring on Natalie’s finger, and Grandma June handed Natalie a ring which had been her Grandfather’s wedding ring.
June smiled at Natalie and Christopher, a gleam in her clever blue-eyes. All was at it should be, she thought as her and Nigel witnessed her granddaughter’s wedding ceremony.