"It's Possible," He Says With His Eyes

It's Saturday night, I'm staying in to grade. Let's have a little silly fun with patterned poetry.

Prompt:

1. Walk to the window and write down the first thing that you see.
2. Grab a book you used for some class, think of your favorite number, turn to that page and write the first word, phrase or sentence you see.
3. Walk into your room. Look around, what is the first odd thing you see? Write it down.
4. Don't begin your time until you capture your three details.

Now, use one, two or three of your items to write a Pantoum poem

• Each stanza is four lines, about the same length
• When you get to the second stanza, use the 2nd and 4th line of your first stanza as the 1st and 3rd line of your second stanza
• Continue this pattern for as long as you can.
• OPTIONAL: If you really want to get specific, the last stanza must feature the first line of the poem as the very last line, and the 3rd line of the first stanza is the 2nd line of your last stanza

MY DETAILS:

-Squirrel

-Streetlight

-Teddy bear propped on a step ladder

***

He governs from the corner

Propped on his worn wooden throne

Head tilted, like a king, pondering

While musings meander alone.

Propped on his worn wooden throne

He listens to my hypothetical interactions

While musings meander alone

Sensibility and absurdity colliding

He listens to my hypothetical interactions

Dreams manifesting like water

Sensibility and absurdity colliding

On the edge of possibility I totter

Dreams manifesting like water

Rules disappear and I emerge

On the edge of possibility I totter

In that space it all seems to converge

Rules disappear and I emerge

My tongue scribbles language aloud

In that space it all seems to converge

Pebbles jet out of a cloud

My tongue scribbles language aloud

The walls welcome all they can see

Pebbles jet out of a cloud

I press my toe on the stones before me

The walls welcome all they can see

Energy ignites and bleeds

I press my toe on the stones before me

The world spins into lucidity

Energy ignites and bleeds

I do not see him in the darkness but

The world spins into lucidity

He watches me as I press and

I do not see him in the darkness but

Stooped on a worn wooden ladder

He watches me as I press and

He remembers every familiar step

Stooped on a worn wooden ladder

Quiet as the sun in the sky

He remembers every familiar step

"It's possible," he says with his eyes

Quiet as the sun in the sky

Real as the rays that touch me

"It's possible," he says with his eyes

"It's possible," now give it a try.