sleeping beauty



remember emerald grass

and the hot sky zinging

above a field laid out

to the left of a train line

a cloth unfurled

that curls to a valley

steep-walled with bergs

feels like the bluegreen ocean

in that it’s hard to know

whether the strongest desire

is to be in it, or observe

back once again

emotions shot through with

brine-cool air from outside

the world full of birds

and vines across the window

like it’s been a hundred years

Bad fairy

My Faerie Queene is Carabosse

I somehow took her mantle

Bad fairy-witch by whom we lost

Our beauty to a spindle

For what use mine her blonde airhead

When I am clever, dark and cruel

Tho she may wish she stayed in bed

When she meets the big-prick fool

Who blunders in, destroying slumber, makes her go to school


Today’s prompt was as follows: Because today is the ninth day of NaPoWriMo, I’d like to challenge you to write a nine-line poem. Although the fourteen-line sonnet is often considered the “baseline” form of verse in English, Sir Edmund Spenser wrote The Faerie Queene using a nine-line form of his own devising, and poetry in other languages (French, most particularly) has always taken advantage of nine-line forms.

I don’t know too much about Spenser’s Faerie Queene and I think I flunked out on the iambic pentameter. But hey ho… I’m thinking about fairy tales and darkness and why not follow me on twitter @Carabosse !? 😉