November 14, snow began to fall Red sweater, sleeves too long; black pants too short Three holes in his worn out shoes, a large pair of frames on his snow clad nose. Ruffled hair He stared at the closed gates and laughed like an idiot. She just agreed to his dinner date. When Diana rested and Apollo slept, the sky was dark with no stars in sight He would polish his dad’s black leather shoes, straighten the bow tie on his penguin suit Midnight, his hunchback mother would ask, “who is she? this girl you are off to see?” Continue reading "14 12 18"
the first two poems are written in iambic pentameter and are ekphrastic poems! although the second poem is a little off nearing the end.
The River to Camelot Carries -- (on John William Waterhouse's Lady of Shalott) Sun kissed locks weaving, ocean eyes weary White, and gingerly, she sings a sad song, sweet. Somber notes, to Camelot they bring It is there that fate does not let her reach There the red-cross Knight will hold his lily He says she's lovely, when they do meet Yet that Lady of Shalott, she's asleep.