Divorce Bard's Blog

...Iambic pentameter is for the ear. Read it out loud.

Divorce Bard

Divorce Bard
pretty how town, USA
February 13
While the ashes of marriage #2 were cooling, I began a journal here in verse, to keep myself out of trouble. So far so good, and one day at a time. I took a hiatus this past January, and I missed it terribly. Writing daily had changed the way I think - not my opinions, but the process of thinking itself. So here I am back again, and hungry. I began with three rules: (1) Iambic pentameter, (2) Perfect rhyme, and (3) It had to be true (no hyperbole). I hereby amend rule number 3: If I'm writing about myself, yes, it has to be true. But it doesn't, if I want to tell a story.


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NOVEMBER 24, 2010 2:00AM

First. Tuesday Nov 23, 2010

Rate: 18 Flag

Some days these unexpected thoughts occur,
In places not asleep and not awake.
So finishing a nap, I thought of her.
I saw the softness that her face could take
When she was talking.  Hair, a bit unkempt
- she cut it by herself - I wished her smile
More time; I wished the memory exempt
From waking up, if only for a while.
A little while, to say hello.  To stay.
Near forty years, it hasn't gone away.

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Now thats a good poem. Things don't last long but I am so glad they did for you.
I love your poetry. I've been too busy to be here much, but I just want you to know how much I appreciate your work every time I read it.
"In places not asleep and not awake."

where all the best thoughts appear...excellent
These moments of in between that come not at our call and leave when they will are moments that fill us and hold us as they take us back to who we were and who we are still. So special this.
Only you could take such a tiny moment at this and give it grace and understanding.
Soothing reading. I don't comment enough on your work. I love it and read it every day. R~
Sometimes those "unexpected thoughts' are the best kind. This was wonderful Bard.
Beautiful work as always, Bard. You have such a way of capturing these snapshots in a spare few words. Thanks.
I share the smile, thanks to your iambling words.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Thanks DB.
Mine was Linda Bicknell - until I read this I realised I hadn't thought of her for maybe four days now.
We were eight.
Hope these feelings never ever go away.
First? First love ... first kiss? I'm intrigued but whatever first it was, DB, I feel the the wistfulness of the soft, delicate memory floating through this. Beautiful!

....I wished her smile
More time; I wished the memory exempt
From waking up...

Really, really lovely. Thank you.
this is lovely
I tend to forget many things and the past tends to take on a shimmering quality, blurring around the edges so to speak, so I think you are particularly blessed
In that space where we're not quite dreaming, not quite awake; yes, I can see why you'd find this memory there. Beautiful. r
Soft. From a well, I think.
Wonderful. It is in those moments between that I often see my brother or my father and would bid them stay. Between sleeping and waking can be magic. Thank you for this poem Bard!
Hi everyone. This is my customary apology, for not being able to respond in person, or individually. Thanks - and Goodnight!