Senryu – The Pen
The pen is mighty;
but the sword is heavy, still
blood weighs more than ink.
2021©DSCoremans
Today is the third Quarter Crazy Marathon of 2021.
The Quarter Crazy is a twelve hour writing event where writers from all around the world write one poem per hour using a prompt uploaded hourly to the Quarter Crazy Facebook group as inspiration for their poems. The event is more than just a writing experience, yes at the end of the day participating poets will have twelve brand new poems to take pride in; but for many of us, taking part is an opportunity to network with a number of like-minded individuals. By reading, writing and commenting on the other poets work during and after the marathon we as poets grow and learn from one another as much as we do from our own writing. Writing is not a right for only the elite few deemed successful by society and sales figures; writing is a intrinsically, profound experience that all of us should embrace and events like the Quarter Crazy remind us that we are all together in this world and that the only barriers that we face in life are those that we hold within ourselves. Join the Quarter Crazy group and the Quarter Crazy Marathon public page on Facebook to stay up to date with the events that run quarterly throughout the year. Join us for the last Marathon of the year later in the year, read and comment on today’s poems if you join the group to show the brave participants who have shared their work that you have enjoyed their writing and help them celebrate the achievement of taking part in this amazing creative event.
Cinquain – Blood in the Inkwell
My ink
has now run dry
but this does not matter
I have blood; enough to write with
my life.
2021©DSCoremans
Hour 8
I’ve been lucky today. I have managed with the support of my family to avoid having to provide my usual level of care for my charge. However as his bedtime approached I knew I’d lose some time to his bedtime routine.
Catching up with this hour made the endurance aspect of the marathon kick in as with running I felt the wall approach. My own energy depleted and feeling physically, mentally and emotionally drained I could easily throw in the towel, yet still I write.
I am never sure where the words come from when I pick up the pen. I am left in awe when I look at a page full of words that seem to have appeared from some unknown place within me.
The poems written during this hour speak to me of that reserve of strength that only exists when one is pushed to the limit.
I am never sure how; but I am always thankful to find that still I write.
Villanelle – the Pen That Stayed Me
“The Pen hadn’t been worth it.”
The thought returned to me again,
and still I write and cannot quit.
This is the place I chose to sit,
as I reminisce with words, my friends
“the pen hadn’t been worth it.”
I should have learned to take the hit;
I may yet learn, but don’t know when
and still I write and cannot quit.
The fuse is long, but long since lit;
it’s getting closer, I can’t pretend
“the pen hadn’t been worth it.”
It wore me down until I felt like shit,
no more energy could I spend
and still I write and cannot quit.
Have I found that might yet fit,
or another answer I must comprehend.
“The pen hadn’t been worth it,”
and still I write and cannot quit.
2021©DSCoremans
#QuarterCrazy
#FoDiByLi
To see the prompts and the poems written during this hour join the Quarter Crazy group page on Facebook.
Triolet – Slayeth With Words
It was the pen that slayed me;
long before my ink had run dry.
It was the pen that betrayed me;
it was the pen that slayed me,
a simple stylus which unmade me
leaving ink like tears as I cry.
It was the pen that slayed me;
long before my ink had run dry.
2021©DSCoremans
Happy Writing. Stay Safe. Stay Distracted.
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