Lesson Three Exercises 1 & 2

I have several exercises.  I did all three prompts, again as practice.  Each is done with a different poetic style.  I followed the original instructions with writing a "prose" poem, then editing down the content.  The order published will follow:  finished poem, poem in syllable form, and original prose poem. Teacher prompts are as follows:
1.  Write about a coffee shop you drive by each day.  (Poem written iambic pentameter blank verse)
2.  Describe your neighborhood as you walk your dog each evening after dinner.  (Ballad form, aab, ccd, etc, repeat chorus, & first two lines:  iambic tetrameter, third line: iambic trimeter.) 
3.  Describe a person you remember.  (Acrostic poem with trochaic tetrameter.)

Morning Service
Believers beseech the goddess.  Corner church
Release the incense; roasted perfume fills
The air.  Espresso’s name entice a call 
To welcome lovers of brewed delights.  With fast
And twisting bursts of steam, the brew is rich.
A jolt of penance paid.  “Disciples drink
Up!  Savor oneness, feel complete with god.”
The chalice finished, tossed and crumpled.  Walk
Away apostles, pray another day.

Morning Service
Be/lievers be/seech the god/dess.  Cor/ner church
Re/lease the in/cense; roast/ed per/fume fills
The air.  Es/pres/so’s name en/tice a call 
To wel/come lovers of brewed de/lights.  With fast
And twist/ing bursts of steam, the brew is rich.
jolt of pen/ance paid.  “Dis/ci/ples drink
Up!  Sa/vor one/ness, feel com/plete with god.”
The cha/lice fin/ished, tossed and crum/pled.  Walk
A/way a/pos/tles, pray an/oth/er day.

Morning Service
The devotees pray to the roasted god.  The entrance to the corner church swings back and forth; the hinge oiled with repeated use.  A cyclical pattern of the door releases the perfume of bitter aroma into the air.  The deep smells entice the acolytes from their busy lives and into a world full of an archaic language.  “Macchiato, Latte’, Espresso, Cappuccino…” are some of the terms that permeate the heavy air.  Words spoken with a roll of the tongue, whispered to a lover brewed in the bowels of a silver machine.  Steam curls, twisting in the air with fast bursts, producing cups of penance.  The brew is thick with solace for disciples, who drink away their days.  The religious coffee connoisseur savors the oneness with their god, crumples their chalice, and walks away till tomorrow.

 

Ballad of Rover
My owner slips restrictive cuff
Around my furry neck.  The muff
Compels this mangy cur.

Around the block, I gotta go.

I shake off protest, trot along.
A burst of smells is summer’s song.
This fido’s freedom breathes.

Around the block, I gotta go.

The neighbors catch my frisky game.
A wag, a tail is tossed, can tame
Conditioned people play.

Around the block, I gotta go.

A crafty chipmunk boldly tries
Outwitting chase.  This leash has lies.
The promised walk confined.

Around the block, I gotta go.

All nature’s plenty calls to me - 
A sudden need to scratch the flea.
The itch appeased this dog.

Around the block, I gotta go.

My humble house has circled back
For hound.  My street remains my pack.
Together time has ended.

Around the block, ol’ Rover went.

 

Ballad of Rover
My own/er slips re/stric/tive cuff  a
A/round my fur/ry neck.  The muff  a
Com/pels this man/gy cur.  b

A/round the block, got/ta go.

shake off pro/test, trot a/long.  c
burst of smells is sum/mer’s song.  c
This fid/o’s free/dom breathes.  d

A/round the block, got/ta go..

The neigh/bors catch my frisk/y game.  e
wag, a tail is tossed, can tame  e
Con/di/tioned peo/ple play.  f

A/round the block, got/ta go..

craft/y chip/munk bold/ly tries  g
Out/wit/ting chase.  This leash has lies.  g
The prom/ised walk con/fined.  h

A/round the block, got/ta go.

All na/ture’s plen/ty calls to me -  i
sud/den need to scratch the flea.  i
The itch ap/peased this dog.  j

A/round the block, got/ta go.

My hum/ble house has cir/cled back  k
For hound.  My street re/mains my pack.  k
To/geth/er time has ended.  l

A/round the block, ol’ Rov/er went.

 

Ballad of Rover
The jingle of metal, a rustling of shoes, my whimpering hints of day finally adhered.  It is freedom from the cool tile and worn out rug.  The slip of the collar restricts and feels awkward around my shaggy neck.  I shake off the sensation of choking.  Legs muscles tense and retract with flexed glee.  Nails scratch on the floor, as I drag my friend out of the door.  Night air is crisp.  The smells overwhelm me:  cut grass, crafty chipmunk, in heat Collie, and steak.  My senses are pulled in two directions, the lure of the Collie or the sizzling steak.  My mouth waters and I pant toward the tender meat.  I’m careful to stop and mark my scent.  A pungent stream arches and lands on old territory, nextdoor neighbor’s rose bushes.  Her scratchy calls of yelling and can rattling are returned with the squirt on her prize flowers.  I prance off with a satisfied strut.  The sound and ding of bell catches my attention.  A little girl with lopsided pig tails wobbles along on her bike.  She is good with a scratch behind my pointed ear.  She catches the spot that triggers my tail.  It feels good, but my ear hears a call to dinner.  The finished steak smell slithers up my nose.  I yank ahead, gotta’ keep moving around the block.

 

Grandma

Gone away is youth ambition,

Leaving wisdom husks.  Omission

Audit gift: ignore the tremors.

Dare to love her essence center,

Years of truth within.  Hypnotic

Shakes are maps to core chaotic.


Grandma

Gone a/way is youth am/bi/tion,  a

Leav/ing wis/dom husks.  O/mis/sion  a

Au/dit gift: ig/nore the tre/mors.  b

Dare to love her es/sence cen/ter,  b

Years of truth with/in.  Hyp/not/ic  c

Shakes are maps to core cha/ot/ic.  c

Grandma
Paper thin skin over aged bones encases a wise life.  The blue veins creep and curl in twisty vines.  Her manicured fingertips shine with clear polish.  The hypnotic vibration calls her to park her travels.  Her memories flourish, though her body is wobbly and uneasy.  The fingertip pads are criss crossed, a map to understand hardwork.  The hands of trusted labor are failing with each shake.  Her body is as foreign on the inside and the trembling outside.

Copyright 2012 Kristen Kindoll. All rights reserved.