Iambic Dimeter:<\/p>\n
“I Know the Lake”<\/strong><\/p>\n I know the lake. Up in the sky I thought you said It’s over now. \u00a92010 Stephen Pickering Iambic Trimeter:<\/p>\n “The Girls of Boston’s Bay”<\/strong><\/p>\n The girls of Boston’s Bay They chew on Franklin’s ear: The peoples’ fists clenched They pull the dream to shore \u00a92010 Stephen Pickering Iambic Tetrameter:<\/p>\n “Comets”<\/strong><\/p>\n It’s interesting to say the least It be temper and it be stew The egg that cracked the Russian woods If we sit back enough and stare, \u00a92010 Stephen Pickering Iambic Pentameter:<\/p>\n Sonnet #6<\/strong><\/p>\n I smell the burnt red color of the fall. A Norwegian pine absorbs the grieving day. Through Italy the German troops will drive. The ‘Mercan girl was born in a French Bar. \u00a92010 Stephen Pickering<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Related Posts:<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Iambic Dimeter: “I Know the Lake” I know the lake. There’s nothing more. What is at stake Is behind the door. Up in the sky Your hair flew wild. Your sunglassed eyes They hid the child. I thought you said … Continue reading
\nThere’s nothing more.
\nWhat is at stake
\nIs behind the door.<\/p>\n
\nYour hair flew wild.
\nYour sunglassed eyes
\nThey hid the child.<\/p>\n
\nTo meet down there.
\nWe’d find the bed
\nWithout a care.<\/p>\n
\nIt died somehow.<\/p>\n
\n_________________________<\/p>\n
\nWith circled stars for crowns,
\nThey have some tea to save
\nBefore a nation drowns.<\/p>\n
\nFrench whores, they’ll have to cease.
\nTheses secrets Paul must steer
\nWith snakes’ coiled fangs to sea.<\/p>\n
\nPoetic visions choke.
\nOnly shelters smell the stench
\nAs purple mountains’ glow.<\/p>\n
\nJerusalem had bore.<\/p>\n
\n_____________________________<\/p>\n
\nTo sit here now among the stars
\nAbove the desert’s slouching beast
\nWatching warriors collide on Mars.<\/p>\n
\nThe magic bogeymen were brought.
\nThey drank from stones the witches brew
\nAnd guarded temples where Zen was taught.<\/p>\n
\nBlasted our chimps through Sputnicks cage.
\nForever laying where they stood
\nEach past dropped in a falling stage.<\/p>\n
\nOur dogs we launched be finally there.<\/p>\n
\n______________________________<\/p>\n
\nBack from the hunt curled up in evening sleep.
\nThe girls have climbed the mountain spirit’s wall.
\nThe fireplace burns a pathway to our dreams.<\/p>\n
\nThe children leave their Latin books alone
\nWith the decisions Caesar has to make,
\nAnd cherubim who speak in tongues through stone.<\/p>\n
\nWe pass the ball hoping for winning years.
\nThey pass the scotch just hoping to survive.
\nIf either drops, the Tiber drowns in tears.<\/p>\n
\nBut leaves this world through a bent steel guitar.<\/p>\n\n