Monday, March 29, 2010

Long Measure

abab iambic tetrameter - though not all of it is iambic tetrameter

In Thanks
A Poem for SLM and Amy

We beat our chests tonight—a pair
Entwined, two souls as one—release
A slew of fervent words, declare
That poetry is light and peace.

We madmen curse and kiss, despair
Our scenes but praise our sun. At ease
We write, warmly, and often, swear
Allegiance, chain ourselves, decrease

Our hold on gravity. When it
Lets go, we have each other and
Our verse to grasp. We dreamers fit
Into our eyes, the safest hands.

We write what we know, we must—pit
Our minds against our limbs, we band
Together, three poets closely knit.
The truth? You are my holy land.

Justine Bienkowski

Monday, March 8, 2010

Goliard-Inspired Poem

I wrote this for a class and it's supposed to be a goliard-inspired poem, but I think I'm going to use it for something else later. Anyway, this is the first draft/stanza that I got down.


Swing low from frosted branches, keep the pine needles from

Your hair. Pat your breast pocket; is your flask full of rum?
Spring gazes from a corner of the forest, bleary
Eyes rubbed to brush Winter's sheen away. Little fairy
Wings danced around the sunshine days while you sat calm in
A circle of dust, breaking ant legs; blessed sinner.

Monday, March 1, 2010


The meter is sort of rough. I didn't quite get it how I wanted it. It was fun to write, though. I'm going to try to write more.

There once lived a young lad who did sleep in a can,
With a fever that ran all around like Tarzan.
He was quick to convince all the ladies to kiss,
And was able to marry a mother. Her kids
Were quite pretty, but always wear rubbers, my man.