Who Do You Think You Are, Mary Mansfield?

you still remember me by nailass @ deviantART

Maybe an old soul
Arcing through the mists of time
Remembered the joys of physical form,
Yearned to complete a journey
Begun eons ago,
Ethereal freedom
Traded for
Humanity.

Maverick tendencies
Amplify the contradictions
Nestled within me,
Sarcasm cloaked in sweetness,
Fundamental flaws
In one seeking a more spiritual side,
Eccentric yet predictably normal,
Likeable but intimidating, and just a bit
Disjointed.


~~~~~ This poem was inspired by an interesting prompt from over at Poetic Bloomings.  We were asked to write an acrostic poem using our full names entitled “Who Do You Think You Are, (insert your name here.)”  This is the first in a series of 20 prompts that is supposed to result in a poetic memoir of sorts.

Cruel

Cruel
Realities
Under his words, the shadows of
Evil done and
Lies told.

Treason

Treason

Resonates in

Every word he says.  He

Altered my reality.  Lies wither when faced with the truth. His

Sins have set me free, leaving me

Obligated

No more.

Mystic

Mystic
Yearnings in the
Silence of the night, seeking
Transformation and redemption,
Inklings of what
Comes next.


Note: This was written for a prompt over at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads asking us to come up with our own short poetic form.  I call this a Symmetrical Acrostic.  I approached it like a traditional acrostic, with the letters of the title determining the first word of each line.  I used the title as the first line of the poem.  I then doubled the number of syllables in that word to determine the number of syllables in the next line, continuing doubling on every line until reaching the middle point of the poem, then reversed the pattern to get to the last line.  It actually sounds more complicated than it is.  Here's an example of how this particular poem worked out.

1. M - 2 syllables
2. Y - 4 syllables
3. S - 8 syllables
4. T - 8 syllables
5. I - 4 syllables
6. C - 2 syllables

It was a nice challenge, to be sure. I will keep working at this poetic form trying to perfect it.

Whenever I Dream

Waking ends the dreams that
Haunt my days,
Echoing through the hours until
Night and dreams come again.
Eyes of darkest espresso,
Visible smile lines crinkle the
Edges, something sad and lost
Revealed in the depths.

I can hear his voice,

Desperately calling my name,
Reaching out to find me,
Elusive, but still present
As I seek to find
My dreams in reality.

Deadly Love

Dreams never come,
Every breath spent
Agonizing, waiting.
Do I die this night or
Live to face more anger, more abuse,
Yearning for an escape?

Love like this
Often ends in the inevitable:
Violent
Eternity.

Haunted

Harsh breath on my neck
As the spirits circle
Under and around,
Never fully manifesting.
The shadows slither, whispering
Ethereal warnings of
Doom.