Studio Cthulhu, a Limerick

mallet and chisels

The sculptor picked up a big mallet,

Chiseled out four gargoyles how Gothic.

Marble, pine, and limestone;

One extruded blue foam–

All four eerily Miskathonic.

(c) Lemuel

27 April, 2018

Daily prompt: Mallet, Second-helping

Limerick

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/mallet/”Mallet</a&gt;

Flowers Warning

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flowers

cryptic, sans note

restrained Ikebana

silent warning perched in plain sight

birthday

 

Lemuel

3-31-18

This is my attempt at writing in the cinquain poetic form which is reputed to be borrowed from Tanka.

  • 5 lines long
  • 2 syllables, 4 syllables, 6 syllables, 8 syllables, 2 syllables
  • flexible to +/- 1 syllable from each line

via Daily Prompt: Warning

 

 

 

 

 

No One Holds my Leash

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Some time in the past I learned to “practice the fundamentals”. This advice or maybe it was a hard-bitten lesson to my hard head, anyway the rule has followed me through all aspects of my life.

If you want to get good at something, then practice the fundamentals. Talent will take you only so far. Sometimes luck will take you further than talent. The basics make the game and in my case make the Art.

The fundamentals are the framework for your razzle-dazzle.

I learned to pay my dues. Own my mistakes. Learn and move on. Accept my successes. Learn and move on.

No one holds my leash.

Foreign, Top Ten Definitions

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Top ten entries or definitions of foreign if I were to write a dictionary entry:

1  To wander.

2  A sojourn.

3  A pilgrimage.

4  A voyage of discovery.

5  As a peregrine falcon flying wither she may.

6  Deliberately different. see (Fr) étrange, see (Sp) extranjero, see (Eng) strange.

7  Being unlike the mainstream or cut off from the continent. e.g. John Donne

8  Being a Stranger in a Strange land. e.g. Robert A. Heinlein

9  Not having a seat at the cool-table during dinner.

10 Not a citizen, an alien.

©2018

Foreign

Me A House Divided

 

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When whatever owns me causes strife, then I vow to let strife depart with whatever owns me, both may leave.

When pride beckons me to follow, I say, “The path is dark.”

Pride answers, “Trust me.” This is my first failing.

I am in want. I flounder in fear. I breathe, “I am content.”  Then I am renewed.

“Where is my home? Today, at this moment, my home is here where I am.”

“I am cold. I am hungry. I am alone. I am unwise, and my tongue is dry.”

I seek harmony of mind. This I trust is the foundation of my house un-divided.

©2018

A House Divided