NaPoWriMo Day 8 Sorrows

DAY 8 NaPoWriMo : Today’s prompt is write a poem in the English style of an ottava rima which is an eight-line stanza of iambic pentameter. I have attempted two Stanzas. 

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Sorrows

I sought to drive  my sorrows out  but they did not wish to go.

They refused point blank to leave me even though I begged them so.

I thought I may be able to drown them in whisky or in gin.

I tried very hard but those blighters had actually learnt to swim.

I wished them goodnight and  went up to bed.

Sadly when I tried to sleep they had migrated and were waiting in my head!

I sit and and shake my fists and bury my head in my hands

I really need a rest but my sorrows have other plans .

I run out the house and into the woods.

But the sorrows can out run me and so that is no good.

Stopping and turning as I flee, I see

those damn miserable sorrows are still after me.

I have had enough, if I just sit down,

these sorrows are just screwing me around.

I am afraid awake and terrified  asleep,

I fear these sorrow are after my mind for keeps.

NaPoWriMo Day 7 The Rat Race

 DAY 7  of the NaPoWriMo  challenge  was prepared by me on 7/4/13 but I could not publish until today  but today’s post will be on time…… I hope.  Day 7 the challenge is to write a poem in which each line except the last takes the form of a single, declarative sentence. Then, the final line should take the form of a question. So here goes .

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THE  RAT RACE

 

Life is short, life is long it is no more than the words of a unending song.

People, crowding together,  pushing shoving in a mad hatter’s throng.

Seeking here and seeking there fighting nightmares not showing much flare.

So wound up in each one’s own strife not having enough love to spare.

Moving up, moving out stabbing backs poisoning cups  killing.

No time to help each other, no not at all even if they were willing.

Time is passing rushing by , airplanes escaping like thoughts into the sky.

Trains and buses rattling by everyone running,  running watching the birds envious as they fly.

Time is the enemy , time is the anti Christ, there is never  enough of it or even worse it stretches out unending.

Laughing at us , mocking us , sneering, unkind and un-sharing . Throwing us out like a hard mother, uncaring.

Is this really it, is this what  we were put here for , will we ever know the answer does anybody care?

 

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