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Senior Member
since 2010-10-30
Posts 1991

0 posted 2010-10-31 05:05 PM

Original form of poetry I call "Septcouplet;" from Septette (A set of seven similar things considered as a unit) and couplet (Two successive lines of verse forming a unit marked usually by rhythmic correspondence, rhyme.) The Septcouplet consists of seven free-style verses, with six lines each, no syllable count. After each verse there are two lines which rhyme, with four syllables to each line. The style is lowercase, except for proper names, punctuation when needed inside the lines, but none at the end of lines.


calming the turbulent waters of death-bed schematics
slight break in murmured voices, tinge of disbelief
eyes shadowy, detached, shifty
heavy-plumed-smoked-filled room, clogged phlegm on details
clock ticking, fulfilling strategy
anxiety shudder extract oxygen from air

dimly-lit room
could be a tomb

season of judgment and rudimentary execution
eyebrows arch, taking part in contractual compliance
gasps audible, secret nail biters fight sour taste of hopelessness
clandestine dreams wait for prey
ulterior need, future goal seductive as half-bared breasts
funeral hush, gnomes of doubt nibble within

sit still and wait
no more debate

stench of betrayal, distrust, anxiety
overwhelm rancid cumulous cigar smolder
individuals with purpose, in concert as one
dry lips constantly licked, sweet thought, re addictive narcotic
hovering within black hearts nuggets of fear huddle
unsophisticated venom permeate brain cells

they are dug in
to outline when

in the warren of collusion, leverage calculated
to appear and to vanish sans trace
unnoticed screams cautioning patience, ineffective
ego-driven hunger for carnage, drug of choice
hegemony absolute
stagnant intellect produce cartoon Tasmanian devils

too late to flee
or disagree

far-reaching as mushroom clouds, rhythm pulses
destiny's free-for-all with conscience bequeath on victor
through swamps for which there are no maps
love-hate emotion pervades comparable to illegal sex
chauvinist delusion of omnipresent identity
the quagmire envelop players of fate

no hands to shake
among these snakes

mortality shows on tired, fleshy faces, cholesterol lips
universal wickedness rises from hades
nooses tighten around neck of treachery
twilight zone bubbling, roiling, cooking its voodoo
violent, internal thunderclouds spread ill will
dramatis momenta

they make the pact
now for the act

mardi gras-like magical atmosphere transplanted
warm, sun-drenched heartland, stunningly so
universal sovereign ventures into unsympathetic terrain
cowtown stopover momentarily, move onward
top down, security unbecomingly flaccid
was oswald the one and only designated shooter

JFK died
the whole world cried

©January 19, 2005 / Jerry Pat Bolton

. . . and the Raven said, %!~#&(&#!$!

© Copyright 2010 Jerry Pat Bolton - All Rights Reserved
Andrew Scott
Member Elite
since 1999-06-24
Posts 2558
1 posted 2010-10-31 06:39 PM

JerryPat: Given the date for when this was copy written, I'm thinking this wasn't penned with the most recent gulf coast oil crisis in mind... but boy it sure does seem to fit the bill. Me likes a lot! That ending was solid... though I can't say I saw it coming. Perhaps that's why it seems so effective. I bow to you and yours for content and form. Welcome to PIP.

"We'll chase them like rats across the tundra."

Senior Member
since 2010-10-30
Posts 1991
2 posted 2010-10-31 06:41 PM

No, it sure wasn't about the oil field crisis, Andrew, it was about the assassination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy. Thank you for your comments.

. . . and the Raven said, %!~#&(&#!$!

[This message has been edited by JerryPat (10-31-2010 08:42 PM).]

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