Week three: My specialty (Rhyme not intended.)

I'm going to choose the creative aspect again Just because Death, as strange as it sounds, has always been a big part of my life. Literally whether it be on a personal level, as a job, or even just being there for people who don't know how to deal with that kind of loss.

1.) The keepers.

The hole has been measured,
the Hoe has done her job.
Added water pressure,
the hose is quite the slob.

A drop of the box
and a toss of the green,
as we set the plot
for quite the scene.

The guests have arrived
with the guest of honour.
As they exit their drives
they'd known he was a goner.

As we watched in solace
from our spot on the hills
all the guests became silent,
stayed perfectly still.

The cask' started to lower
few began to weep.
as the man of the ho'r
fell slowly to his sleep.

The guests consoled
as the memories transpired.
Many different stories
of the man they all admired.

As the guests started leaving
and the grounds were left bare.
I started to wonder
of the man who'd now lay there.

How much the man had done,
how much he meant to them.
Be it a life of prosper,
possibly a long lost gem.

Fixated I was,
as the punctured earth we filled.
No one man deserved the fate
but none escape it's will.

I vowed that day to uphold
a common courtesy.
That all of those us keepers lay
be treated well by me.

Also since I've got my own demons to deal with with the pen (Or keyboard in this case.) I feel like doing another.

The Corner

This man has seen many corners of the world
feared-not the ones of a room,
And still the corner takes him.

Some say he was a Jack of all Trades
Able  to  lift  anyones  gloom,
But still the corner takes him.

A stubborn, self-righteous man was he
trying  something  quite  new
Yet still the corner takes him.

He left not long before the last night had fallen,
several hours since passed too
While still the corner takes him.

The day of his wedding those many years ago,
and so happily rejoiced anew
this day the corner takes him.

That eve us kids were to meet them
after all the work was through.
Instead, the corner takes him.

And here I stand, but a broken man
In the rooms corner... solitude
Why did the corner take him?

Now the hard part. Depicting my own poem as if I hadn't wrote it. (Which is impossible cause as an outside perspective I know to much about me to not know exactly what I was thinking.)

2.) The keepers from an outside perspective would look like the satirical comedic life of a cemetery grounds keeper witnessing a funeral. The form is a little off but that would help explain the thoughts better of a lower class grounds keeper since it's believed that there's not a lot of education required to work at a grave yard. And the point that the man in the poem was trying to get across is the thought process of a man who's not feeling the pain of a lost love one believes that every man is equally honoured when they're dead.

Where as the Corner was a more meaningful poem based on the writer himself experiencing a loss. It lacked a proper poem's form to make room for imagery in the fact that every stanza looks like a corner. The meaning behind it is that the man writing it had experienced the loss of a loved one to some sort of corner (possibly an accident).

Over due on week two.

If there's one thing I can't stand when I do it's when I entirely blank on something. And though It's late I still feel I should do it as discipline for my own mistake. I don't care if I do get marked as long as I can say I at least got it done. So in spirit of that a sonnet based on mistakes.

1.) The Road Less Followed

Along the road I follow down
there are many wrong turns.
Doesn't mean I change it now,
just means I'm meant to learn.
Mistakes are never true mistakes
as long as it's right at the time,
which helps me further contemplate
and even write my rhyme.
As windy as the road may be
I'll keep a strong resolve.
Though t'isn't always filled with glee,
My guilt will be absolved.
For the road less followed is quite unique,
though longer, the future ain't so bleak.

2.) The form helped me stay focused and on a proper path while writing this sonnet and weighed heavily on the style I used when writing this sonnet. And though it's a slightly light hearted and almost comical sonnet it was the rhyme scheme that turned it into what it is and the form that caused the rhyme scheme. Though I did find difficulty keeping meter on the last two lines so they might be the turning point between proper and just a little off-set. (All depends how you read it.)

Week one: Creativity (I suppose technically it's week two, but you did say week one became week zero.)

For what ever which reason I decided I'd be lyrical for once in my quizzical life. Forgive my mannerisms towards this blotch of poetic jibberish and just remember you're not supposed to know what my side of this is as nobody but myself would. (And sometimes even I question the ramblings and meaningless banter I occasionally tend to go on about quite ineptly. As you can see by this verbal assault, aimed towards nothing for even less reason, that I have an acute sense of diction and rhetoric. Makes me dumbfounded as to why I had never tried anything as imaginative and expressive as this before.

1.) Haiku:

Floating still it weeps
As it looks ever downward
never reaching ground.

2.) Limerick:

Sitting now in this quiet calm
losing track of all that's wrong
what faces me is soon to come
and ever shall I hinder numb
as the past remains so strong.

3.) I have a very observational form to my writing which shows up in elements of the haiku (But I will not tell you what the haiku was about because that's against the rules of poetry.) and the limerick was strictly biographical, an expression of my past while still being modern enough as to surround it with the environment that I was in while writing it. To truely understand the limerick you'd have to know abit about my last year or so of life.