A little Chinese-styled poetic ditty, for your wonton soup or the inside of that fortune cookie
The Sunday Whirl blog invites writers to write a poem or short prose using some or all of the “wordle’s” 12 word.
This week’s words are:
Down to the Grave
A thousand soups,
Ten thousand dishes,
An almost infinite number of pulsing wishes.
A multitude of dressings to cover
Many thunderous wounded fronts,
And red spit messages increase the counts.
A thousand forgivenesses, and a
Another thousand charms, a life will have;
And then take none of it with it down to the grave.
I really like this!
Intense and so well done! The words look foreboding to me at the moment but hopefully something will spring forth.
I hope not forboding, although maybe a little, as much as I hoped a realizaton of the fleetingness of life, all this and we get to keep none of it – maybe.
This was my favorite poem of the day. Concise and repetitive… Like one thousand lives. Great rhythm and imagery.
And I liked your “The Mourner”.
Sad sacks we are or may be – but I speak only for myself, and only in fun.
I love the repetition throughout the poem and the ending is amazing. Such a unique and creative take on the prompt.
And I liked your
“The Gift of Knowledge”
and my comments there. (http://writeinmotion.blogspot.com/2013/05/blog-post.html)
Love it, agree the repetition really strengthen the poem
I am glad you given us another reminder that we take nothing with us. So I think we ought to try to get it right this time. The pulsing wishes grabbed me, implying that that whatever we do we should do it with our hearts.
thanks for stopping by and commenting.
I appreciate it. The last few choice bits and dits and …. on your site.
Got to dash, Randy