555 Days... The Continuation

Welcome to 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe

Back in 2010, I challenged myself to write a poem or a short verse a day, and post it to a blog. 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe is the continuation of the experiment.

I gave myself 18 months to recover from the original daily blog postings, and now, I am ready to start it all over again. Although as I was beginning in the middle of the year, I thought 6 months was too short a time after my last experience.

"If I could complete a year of poems, how about 18 months?" I thought. I worked out that would be 549 days. I could have rounded it up to 550 to included New Years Day 2014, but then I thought I'd go 5 better... to 555 days.

Why 555? According to many spiritual teachers, the number 555 is a sign of change and the flow of energy. I thought it related to the blog. I spent a year writing a poem every day, then rested for 18 months. Now the tide has turned. It's time to begin the flow of words in my life again.

I'm not a trained poet, just an enthusiastic scribe wanting to create something new each day. I don't truly know my stanza from my meter, but I hope to improve and get my poetic license someday! Expect the weird, the strange and the inner workings of the Crafty Scribe's mind. Let's ride the waves once more.

Please pass on the blog address to all your verse and lyrical loving friends. I hope you will join me, and read my daily scribbling.

Saturday 18 August 2012

"Sacrifice on Salted Air" (Entry 49)

Stumble over seaweed slimed rocks at cave's mouth.
A foot jammed in gap.
Crimson gory pours from new gash,
slashed by jagged edge.

Profuse swears
to damn the day.
Words gush to
reinforce the salt water
rubbing into wound.

The time made worse
by circumstance would not be here.
Oh, to curse the curse
and needing  cure.

Deep and melodic
female voice rumbles to
demand who dares profane
the air.

Trembled torn step forth
to meet the eel black darkness
slipping from the cavern.

Incorporeal made to silhouette
to bulk hidden in barnacled burlap cloak.
Throated gurgled giggle reaches to shriek.

"Blood!"

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