Day 7:
Light Trash
Abalone simmers of something behind the
Bastardly blacks and blues and
Colossal slop that you show.
Diamond shapes shine and we're drawn to
Elegant flickers and
Flighty fizzles of spark.
Grave is our greed for the light.
Hustle here, bustle there,
Inquisitive glimpses, slippery lips,
Jasmine scented lies
Kite right into our storms.
Lispy little starlings sing
Mauve little bursts of bling then...
Nothing.
Orderly as a post storm arc,
Putrid hues, like oily water,
Quest to slick our very souls.
Revelation.
Saintly are the synthetic.
Thirsty are the authentic
Umbra hued hearts.
Victory will never be ours for
Westerly stars ever spew their sheen.
Xenos is their constellation.
Yester-life we loved real suns, now
Zoolandarian light-trash has won.
ABOUT THIS POETRY FORM
There are a few ways to do this but the easier way is to go through the alphabet using the first letter of the first word for each line.
26 Line Poem
Rhymes: however you want, or not at all
This was harder than I thought it would be. I started and stopped so many times and then just started over from scratch. I wrote down the first word that came to mind when I said each letter and used those words to try construct some kind of poem. Not the best but not the worst I've ever scribbled out.
