A Poem a Day – Day 5 CINQUAIN

NaPoWriMo wants a Cinquain today.   Not sure I get the concept, but here’s my try.

“A cinquain is a poem that employs stanzas with five lines. Each line has a certain number of accented or stressed syllables, and a certain number of overall syllables per line. In the “American” cinquain, a form invented by a woman with the highly unfortunate name of Adelaide Crapsey, the number of stresses per line is 1-2-3-4-1, and the number of syllables is 2-4-6-8-2. So the first line would have two syllables, one stressed and one unstressed. The second line would have four syllables, two of which are stressed, and so on.  ”


I think
I’ll write an ode
in praise of poet’s month
it’s five lines long, oh wait, no ode

A Poem a Day or Something . . .

Four attempts at spontaneous poems for National Poetry Month.  Napowrimo wants a Cinquain for day 5.  A what?  Heck I can’t even rhyme this quickly much less structure rhyme.  Aack! What have I gotten myself into?


independent living
sign says seniors
over fifty-five
add another 
thirty years
more for most
who live there

dependent on
walkers and
chairs with wheels
spinning slowly
to that last roundup

big band music
from my mother’s time
old folks swaying
to the beat
as best they can
waiting for the end 
to arrive


sirens wailing
some catastrophe
every day
more than one
wakes me up
rest evades me
repose captured
keening Banchees


A friend of mine wrote
about crying
never quite stopping
a life that never quite started
now all gone.
I wondered if we
were kindred spirits 
in loss
or if he was 
suddenly psychic
reading my 
innermost sorrows


Two sets of sirens
surround squawking crows
on this morning 
of whatever is
the opposite
peaceful repose.

Find a quiet place,
the exercise says
write down your feelings
and conquer your fears

I take a deep breath
and start
number one.
What did you feel when …
hell ….

Interrupted by shrieking
garbage truck clangs
followed by car after car
speeding past signs
that tell them 
to slow down.

Write down what I really feel?
You don’t want to hear.