Posted tagged ‘conversation poem’

Night Brain

June 26, 2014


Night Brain

Hey you!  Night Brain, who cares no whit
for morning’s vows all ‘round,
whose desires drive this body
(though arousal runs aground)–
Be it
for yet another sip–
with my head and plate-full–
or one more check of blue, back-lit,
scratch of escapist soul

that itches like a pox inside,
mosquito swallowed whole,
mistaking screen/glass for the light
at the end of the tunnel.
Night Brain!
How you willfully lame
me–  Night
Brain….  I sit in the glooming
now–waiting for you to confide
in me–whisper what’s looming–



Here’s another (more or less) set of Robert Herrick stanzas for an old prompt of Kerry O’Connor’s and also a “conversation” poem for a new prompt of Kerry O‘ Connor’s, both on Real Toads.   (Yes, I call this one a draft–probably any Herrick stanzas of mine need that appellation.)

Conversation Poem? (“No Good Answer”)

October 29, 2011

dVerse Poets Pub has a poetics challenge today, hosted by the wonderful Claudia Schoenfeld (who lives in Germany but writes beautiful poetry in English)  asking for a “call and response” or conversation poem.

The poem below is a conversation in which one person speaks in words, the other gestures.  it’s a pretty grim poem, sorry.  (Please remember it’s a poem, i.e. work of art! )  Also note that, although it rhymes and has line breaks, pauses should really only be taken where punctuated and not at the end of a line.

No Good Answer

She took a brush and hit her hand,
trying hard to make a stand.

“Just go,” he sighed,
“it’s just not working.
You’ve got to know
I’m not just jerking
you around.
No, it’s just the way I am is all,
I’m not the one for you at all.”

She stuck a tack into her wrist,
showing him a bloodied fist.

He shuddered, turned aside his head,
“It’s time for me to go to bed,”
then left her for their one spare room,
while she sat on beneath a gloom
of fear
that she would stop the pain
so that it would not come again.

But she was frozen, could not move,
luckily, perhaps, since all self-love
had vanished
just as his had done,
not to be found under moon or sun.