Wednesday, April 21, 2021

Day #21: Duality Poem

Duality is the condition of containing two parts, often contrasting parts. Consider either/or dualities:

off/on

speaking/silent

laughing/crying

or consider both/and dualities when two :

nervous & excited

exhausted & satisfied

giddy & hopeful

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Today I challenge you to write a duality poem, examining two (or more) sides of something. Use what ever form calls to you!

Here is mine:

CONTRASTS

Melville wrote:

“There is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast.”

I tap my app
at the end
of a run;
it is the going
that gives the stopping
its rippling frisson.

I read the
closing lines
of a thousand-page book:
releasing and relief-ing
goodbye dear friend
my heart swells
and hurts.

Friday-night tired
pushes through my muscles
and settles in my bones;
ah, sublime hour
when the week
meets the weekend.


9 comments:

  1. Flower

    I pick a flower from the ground
    At the end of a long day
    I look at it and think of
    The double purpose it serves

    Used properly it can help
    those in medical health
    yet at the same bring a poisonus death

    That fine razor line
    between doth medicine and poison
    the double meaning of this
    good and evil thing

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, I love how you used the Friar's examination of plants in R&J and turned it into a poem! "That fine razor line" is a great line!

      Delete
  2. Pain

    The feeling of hard work
    Of the improvement
    Of the new levels
    And the conquered fears

    Pain makes you stronger
    It builds character
    But doesn’t it hurt?

    The mistakes
    The failure
    The unsuccessful

    But the pain shows
    The way of right
    And drives you from the wrong
    It tears you down
    To rebuild stronger

    Because it works

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What a great examination of the duality of pain on the way to improvement! I like the "But doesn't it hurt?" line in the middle that guides the "answer" that unfolds in the second half.

      Delete
  3. Was it Cupid or Eros who held such a swift bow,
    Spiking arrows and sharpening them to help it flow,
    Through the air on currents of a breath's wind.
    Made of innocence yet filled with sin.

    If fate is made of chance then I'm afraid I'm lucky,
    To hit the 1% out of 99% yet still feel murky.
    To claim the persona of the obviously stronger chance,
    Only to be claimed by a sire's lance.

    To be drenched in excitement yet chilled in fear,
    Uncertain as to what bright lights are truly clear.
    I don't know what to do with this bud of a poisoned rose,
    As my mind ponders and fights over a choice to be chose.

    Is it an angler looking for pray,
    Or is it a star here to light the day?
    Is it the cheese of a baited mouse trap,
    Or is it a chance to lay in beauty's lap.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. "To be drenched in excitement yet chilled in fear" (Great line!)
      I also really liked " this bud of a poisoned rose."

      Delete
  4. A bright white fuzzy light
    Glowing in a dark room
    Cuddling the light, I wrap my arms around it
    Wishing that I had more of it

    More of the burning sensation,
    Of the healing touch,
    Of the prickly shell,
    Of the soft outer layer

    But then the light expands,
    Until the dark room is gone
    And all that is left
    Is nothing

    I crawl around,
    Searching for what used to be
    Where did my light go?
    What did they do with my light?

    Until I stumble upon something that resembles my beloved light
    A small, prickly ball, as pitch black as the sky
    Tucking it close to my arms, I feel pain,
    But peace

    Glancing around, I find my light
    All around me, hugging me like I hugged it
    Knowing that I can’t have light without dark,
    Or dark without light

    Relieves me

    ReplyDelete
  5. This poem intrigues me. I'd love to talk to you about it tomorrow!

    ReplyDelete
  6. I step on to the starting blocks
    with the baton in hand.
    The feeling of nervous excitement
    fills my stomach.

    I can't stop shaking
    yet I'm as still as a rock.
    The starting gun goes off
    and I run as fast as I can.

    The next runner comes closer

    as the start line gets further away.
    To the hand off so simple
    yet very precise.

    Wish them luck as they run away.

    ReplyDelete

Day #30: Final Poem!

Let's wind up our month of poetry writing with a poem about... our month of poetry writing! Consider an epistolary poem (letter form) wr...