When a snowball snowballs … (SOLSC 27)

I
cannot
mold my thoughts
fast enough, catch
ideas easily.
Here
my tongue
is quiet,
lies in silence
full, shaping no words,
numb,
aching,
now stumbling.
Meaning hidden
somewhere inside, mute.

Paul got me thinking about snowballs, but my brain kept running slightly differently from what he described. Is there a name for this form? Each line has one more syllable than the previous line, and then starts over again at one syllable after the fifth line.  In any case, it’s almost April, so it’s time to remind myself just how much I’m not a poet … and how much I continue to make poems in spite of that fact.

_____

Are we really at the 27th already? Can almost the whole of March be behind us? Crazy.
Check out all of today’s slices at Two Writing Teachers.

sols_6

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12 thoughts on “When a snowball snowballs … (SOLSC 27)

    1. Thanks, Bonnie. Why do I go through this every year? This endless questioning of whether or not I can call myself a poet? I need to remember that the label didn’t matter and just write.

      Like

    1. To be or not to be … a poet? Yes, I keep struggling. I need to get out of my way and just write whatever I’m writing and not worry about it, yes? So easy to say …

      Like

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