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Tag: #BookofForms

Our Secret: rondeau

What is the secret we all seek?
Despite the clever words we speak,
our desperation grows and thrives,
infecting every segment of our lives,
convincing us that we are weak.

And those who struggle, we call freaks,
and frightened, hide our flaws and leaks
away from others’ prying eyes.
That is the secret.

We passively exploit the meek,
and shame our smartest nerds and geeks.
into neat boxes to survive,
destroying their creative drive,
in service to the working week.
That is our secret.

24 Jun 2025

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What Is It: rispetto

What is it that we try to do?
It seems the same old tired song:
me being right, and blaming you
when everything around goes wrong.

What good does that do anyone,
when neither side can win or lose?
It’s not enjoyable or fun
for either team. Why would you choose

to carry on in such a way?
Who likes to play this sorry game?
It seems a waste of a good day.
If we keep going, who’s to blame?

What is it that we want to be?
That seems a tired line
tied up with some great destiny.
But it is yours, or mine?

What difference can it really make,
if we don’t ever try to change?
Instead, let’s learn from our mistakes.
Together, it won’t seem so strange.

23 Jun 2025

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Shut Up and Row: rionnaird tri-nard

Don’t ask me how I’m doing,
or just what I’ve been thinking.
I’m far too busy bailing
my little boat that’s sinking.
I must keep things in focus.
Do not keep up your prattle,
belay your hocus pocus.
It’s hard enough a battle.

Leave off me with your jabbing.
I don’t need added tension.
Besides, what good is gabbing
when I must pay attention?
There’s no time for that nonsense
when we both should be rowing.
Spare me your show and pretense
’til we get where we’re going.

23 Jun 2025

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Out There: rime royal

You cannot heal a thing by using hate.
That salve infects a wound and makes it burn,
then die and rot. Then it is far too late
to blame the medicine you chose to take
for giving you results you didn’t see.
There’s no returning from such a mistake,
no happiness can bloom from enmity.

You cannot build a lasting thing with spite.
A mortar mixed in this way will not hold,
and starts to crumble when exposed to light.
No matter the great wisdom of your plan,
or skills you may employ to shape and frame,
the end result is flawed and will not stand.
You just replace one evil with the same.

You cannot change unless you understand
the world is what it is because of you,
and is by your own doing, shifting sand.
To learn the words for healing, you must seek
beyond the edges of the map you know.
Out there, past right and wrong, past strong and weak,
is where, to find the future, we must go.

23 Jun 2025

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No Substitute for Progress: qasida

Salutations and our greeting.
Welcome to this special meeting.
As you know, our time is fleeting,
so please take your assigned seating.

We control a heart that’s beating.
Ever forward, no retreating.
Never mind the lambs, their bleating
will grow softer. They’re just tweeting.

Taste the fatted calf we’re eating,
as this project nears completing,
raised free-range, on grain, no cheating,
farm-to-table, heart still beating.

All the numbers say we’re beating
anyone who tried competing.
We’re as sound as central heating.
Our position is concreting.

Still, this message bears repeating:
going soft is self-defeating.
Never mind the weak entreating
you for mercy in defeating.

This concludes our special meeting.
Please return your hood and sheeting.
The exit survey you’re completing
keeps our cause from obsoleting.

22 Jun 2025

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Dog in the Rain: Burns stanza

When the gods start bowling in the sky,
my wee, little dog starts in to cry
and seeks a spot secure and up high,
tucked behind my head.
She whines ’til the thunderstorm goes by
and will not go to bed.

She’s such a brave and fearsome critter,
but howling, loud winds set her a jitter.
Listen to how her heart goes pitter
pat. Her quaking chest
betrays her fear. She’s all a twitter,
and can get no rest.

When the dark skies are weeping sadly
my sweet dog is behaving badly:
she sneaks under my pillow, gladly,
to hide from the storm,
and cries and whimpers, low and madly
tho’ she’s inside and warm.

20 Jun 2025

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No Time: rimas dissolutas

There is no time, we cannot start again.
The clocks do not run backwards on command,
nor do the years reverse their gears on queue.

You cannot substitute a now for then,
nor rearrange the instance where you stand.
There is no try again, just simply do.

Besides, who wants to just relive the past,
imagining again those glory days
or that crushing defeat? Who needs the stress?

It’s only memory that really lasts,
until it disappears into a haze
that we call history. Well, more or less.

There is no time but now, and it exists
for just this moment only, and no more.
What starts must surely finish when it’s done.

So let it go. It’s useless to resist.
Besides, what good is all forever for?
There is a thing as having too much fun.

20 Jun 2025

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