verlie burroughs

  Villanelle purgatory Just give me five tercets, something French and existential Five tercets, and an aba rhyme scheme followed by a quatrain It looks easy on the page. What is the secret to the villanelle? All my scribble is going to hell tryin to write a villanelle I had to look it up, oh well, and I got more confused with every page I want to write something swell, something French and existential I wonder if all poets dwell in this special kind of hell Scribbling rhymes in villanelle, until they give up in a rage It looks easy on the page, what is the secret to the villanelle? At least I know now what a tercet is. Oh yes i know it very well But the strict rhyming is beginning to feel a little like a cage What I need is something special, something French and existential Finally on the fifth stanza, I’m getting there and that’s essential One must go on even if it’s dreadful, at least it’s something on the page (Even if not widely appreciated) What is the damn secret to the vil...

While reading The Love Song of J. Alfred Pruefrock Shall we go out at dawn and walk along the path, and enjoy the cherry blossom scented air And you can take your walking stick (and you can lean on it, admiring the forget-me-nots sprinkled everywhere)  Watch your step (the creeping blackberry winds along the edges of the path and will grab you with its hidden thorns) Are you getting tired now? Please let me find you a chair  And we can sit for awhile and listen to the Robins sing  between the silences that sound a lot like prayer. Day 22    Prompt: write a poem in which the speaker is in dialogue with self. Note: this is as close as I could get. My apologies to T.S. Eliot.  

Pagoda Garden Mae called me  wu-li   at the chinese cafe where I worked for chips and gravy (on special days chicken chow mein) Day 21 prompt: muse on your name and nicknames you’ve been given  

  Raven In Kwakw a k a 'wakw legend  it was Raven who first  brought light to the world Raven the trickster, the creator! Lifted the lid of the wooden box  with his powerful beak And released the Sun  Once when I was driving    in my car on my way home to the beach I looked up and saw a pair of them  flying side by side, ahead of me For a few miles we were travelling  at about the same pace  It was lovely!    And for a moment  I felt like they were accompanying me I’ve seen them gathered at the grave yard,   after a burial,    just standing around like guests Are you paying your respects ? I ask But the Ravens don’t answer me . I’ve had the privilege to see some beautiful artwork depicting the Raven creation story in prints and carving made by Kwakiutl artist Calvin Hunt at his Copper Maker gallery, in Fort Rupert BC.   Our Land | Our People | Living Tradition, The Kwakwaka'wakw Potlatch on the Nor...

  Flora Sweet Alyssum ~  Worth beyond beauty Azalea  ~ Temperance Balm of Gilead  ~ Cure    Relief Bay Tree  ~ Glory Bluebell  ~ Constancy Camomile  ~ Energy in adversity Cedar Leaf  ~ I live for thee Chickweed  ~ Rendezvous Chicory  ~. Frugality Coreopsis  ~ Always cheerful Crocus, Spring  ~ Youthful gladness Crocus, Saffron  ~ Mirth Day 19 Prompt: pick a flower or two (or a whole bouquet, if you like) from this online edition of Kate Greenaway’s  Language of Flowers . Now, write your own poem in which you muse on your selections’ names and meanings. If you’re so inclined, you could even do some outside research into your flowers, and incorporate facts that you learn into your work.

I went down to Tilbury Town looking for Poetry I heard she used to work at the fish factory But it had been awhile since she’d been seen I fancied myself a new age Don Quixote  My Rocinante an old Barracuda  with an ashtray (and a potato for gas cap) And that’s what got me in trouble They stopped us at the ferry dock You cannot board like that !  (they hadn’t noticed on the way over) You’ll have to find a gas cap And that was that I could not cross over the wine dark sea to continue my search for Poetry I’m in exile now in Tilbury Town  And Poetry is not around Sancho and I are parked at a garage where we    wait  until a new gas cap arrives Maybe Tuesday                                                         ~ to be continued                        ...