Terza Rima Day 30. Life

This Month Kat Myrman has suggested a new theme for the daily poem—the Terza Rima, writing one stanza each day.
A terza rima consists of stanzas of three lines (or tercets) usually in iambic pentameter. It follows an interlocking rhyming scheme, or chain rhyme. This is where the middle of each stanza rhymes with the first and last line of the following stanza. There is no set length to this form, as long as it follows

I shall be joining Kat Myrman and Jane Dougherty in this challenge.

Life… A Terza Rima,

Twice I break my back, rue the day I was born

Second time I started to write

Words free me from prison I should of done it all long.

~~~~~~~~~~
Installment 30 of Life for this month’s Terza Rima Daily Poem Challenge, one tercet at a time.

NaPoWriMo, Day 30. Death Again, Birth No More

NapoWriMo Day30.  Today’s prompt is to  find a shortish poem that you like, and rewrite each line, replacing each word (or as many words as you can) with words that mean the opposite. For example, you might turn “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” to “I won’t contrast you with a winter’s night.

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I chose a poem on death by Mark R Slaughter, his name and the name of the poem intrigued .

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It’s Death Again

It’s Death again – He’s always there –
Watching, waiting – e’er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood –
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he’ll never go.
The adamant phantom; don’t you know
He will but wait until it’s time
For me to hear His fateful chime? –
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: ‘You’re next, it has to be…’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 200

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Birth No More

 

 

It is not birth firstly – she is never here

Not looking or waiting – no  not even looking

Never do I look back

Or do not reach to push the wall, seeing

I let go no sight of a clean head

A huge clue to where he fled

The dull of darkness that let fall the scythe

Maybe not, I could charge a tithe

But O! Such use she will always stay

The unsure person we all know

She will not wait until it is late

For you to not hear her nondescript murmur

The silence that doesn’t claim my past

To not say,  “your not next , it doesn’t need to be”

 

 

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