Everyone is inviuted to join this challenge, and then post to your page:

Duane's challenge:
So we will keep it simple.
Write at least one poem (feel free to write more then one) at least 8 lines long, and not more than 12 lines using a minimum of 6 of these 18 words.:
Tomorrow, serenity, freely, sister, sweeps, third, details, fly, dirty, disembodied, counterbalance, licked, craft, gripped, paves, listens, apricot, white

Tomorrow, I'll drop Serenity freely. Instead I'll court her sister
Discord, who sweeps all before her. Offering her
my life in portions, giving up a third at a time until I'm gone,
details I've cherished will fly from me, dirty and disembodied.

For counterbalance I'll hold to this thought: once I'm licked
I'll be nothing but a tight core. Then, I can rebuild, can craft myself,
tools gripped tight in hand. This is how one paves the path to a New Self.
One allows oneself to fall apart; then, the small remainder --

no larger, perhaps, than the pit of and apricot or cherry --
will recall Serenity and will glow again, first feebly yellow
then strong, hard, hot white. And I will then let Discord go
but let her down gently, in case we may have need to love again.


-- all 18, in order. What else ya got?

This one, the best I have seen! This is from my friends on FB but i do not know who Duane is! I have seen when they try to cram all into one stanza, and it does not work well, at least so far!

I will not find serenity tomorrow.
I will find dirt on the paved white road,
as I wake up to it.
My face inspecting pavement.
licking a fly off the dirt.
As my disembodied sister,
and her wings sweep to heaven, I
plant feet firmly on earth.
She lives in white light.
I grip ground.
The counterbalance,
as I will not find serenity tomorrow.

I think eight,if slight variations in word tense allowed.

No, it is more like eleven...

Tomorrow is another day-unless it isn’t;
but Serenity has her downside, I can freely admit.

Besides, her evil sister, Agitation, reminds me I am alive;
and lately, she sweeps away all my hours but a third,
during which I am asleep.

I’ll kindly spare you the details of my plight;
you are probably catching this on the fly, anyway.

Suffice it to say that I feel dirty, disembodied,
and would really welcome some joy as a counterbalance;
I am licked by the warped craft of a world gripped by backward values,

by how it paves over the same old ground and calls it new,
by how it never listens to the voice of logic.

It doesn’t matter if Adam and Eve bit an apple or an apricot-
the truth behind the act is black and white:
this world has fallen.

This is my first time in the Coffee Shop and I found this to be fun.



Thinking not on my serenity tomorrow,
disembodied my sister is a ghost,

she cannot stand a dirty house,
sweeps with a broom of ghostly straw,

her craft of choice is poetry,
listens, gripped to all the details,

freely points out typo in the third stanza,
that paves the counterbalance,

of having a noisy sibling apparition,
then before dawn she would fly to the garden,

licked the dew off all the white roses,
and melt into the apricot sun.

You laced your burrito with extra habanero and licked off a drop before you ate, your palate set you on fire, the kind a red fire engine cannot put out
it swept you into hell and back again , you always flunked anger management and all that but lets leave out the dirty details of disembodied Aahhems!

Remember, you gorged on apricots and prunes
to counterbalance the fiery aftertaste? Y ou breathed fire
and flew off in a teary rage, a beaten dragon rushing back to its lair,
one little orangey thing managed all that!

I asked you not to, not once, not twice but the third time I pleaded, asked you not to pour it into your burrito but unsolicited advice is like that, no one listens!

Tomorrow sister, when you are the picture of serenity, remember the fiery details. You thought small was harmless. But the craft of war is to understand the opponent. I love you habanero. We are alike. Small but whack of a punch!

and after much debate
I trade the peach gripped in my right hand
decide instead on it's sister, the apricot
examine the details and sunset in it's ripe flesh
marvel at what God did craft and take a bite
let the sweet juice run freely along my white skin
savor the taste and pure serenity in this simple moment
before I know it, a third of it is gone
I finish the rest, my fingers licked clean
tomorrow I'll try the peach

thanks to Auntie for the use of her Dell

Wow! I cannot believe how wonderful these writes are, and how out of the box they have become! Zoe4-in-a-bubble wrote a great write exactly withing the parameters, Tony, I believe that this is your second one? I love it! Fogglethorpe, you are awesome, and this is so out or your normal that I was astounded and so impressed! Fantastic, everyone!
James, I absolutely love it, and it is exactly twelve lines, lovely mystical slant, whic I adore. Alana, you did not follow form but you are a riot, and can tell you were having a great deal of fun with this, which is integral.
Never expected this many responses, i will pass it along to Binal, my facebook friend! Take care all and thanks for writing with your wonderful inspirations!

Tomorrow, serenity, freely, sister, sweeps, third, details, fly, dirty, disembodied, counterbalance, licked, craft, gripped, paves, listens, apricot, white

--
Serenity comes through enigmatic discourse,
with the evil demon and veiled feeling.
Flying, into white cadence,
a soul sister lies within your spiritual brow. Gripped, sensations
of autumn and spring cosign, as heaven listens
to that enigmatic speech,
that is craft; the disembodied feeling,
Witty notions
that are aching to display their details
sweep response to the evil demon's
good fate of tomorrow...
counterbalanced with duality.

A little different direction for this one... Gail...

You amaze me sister,
how you craft your dirty phone calls,

Gripped, by your invasion of my serenity,
disembodied by the fly words of a nun,

Sweeps me away as my mind listens for details,
telling me your private taste like white icing on apricot cake,

Freely I licked my lips,
once, twice and a third time,

We need a counterbalance here sister,
please don’t hang up before giving me your number,

This paves the way to a grand relationship,
tomorrow, I will do all the talking.

my dirty feet
freely dance
on muddy cobblestone
in apricot rain
for tomorrow
the white man paves
this road
his counterbalance
to our simple
way of life

cathy! Have not heard from you in a while! I find this poem amazing in its concise succinct delivery. Wish I had written this one.
James, you rock!
Sammi: How did you make this challenge into a Sammipoem? Ha! Just shows the incredible variety a looser set of rules can bring...

i know, right? i had lots going on for awhile...it's good to be back. =)

Sister, my thoughts fly to thee,
tomorrow could be too late.

Gripped are these feelings,
that steals away our serenity.

That paves not a counterbalance,
listens not to our disembodied hearts.

Dirty little craft are these white lies,
who sweeps them away freely?

Details of arguments forgotten,
still taste sour, like a licked green apricot.

Don’t wait, it does have not to be too late,
we’ve had no words for now a third year.

Typo last stanza... Don’t wait, it does not have to be too late.

WOW... It must have been on my blindside.

The following has 15 of the words in 9 lines. I need to think of a title. If I made the title, "Musings of a dirty fly that I licked" I'd get the whole 18 words - whaddya reckon?

Yesterday I relished the sweetness of an apricot;
tomorrow I must counterbalance with austerity;
but today, serenity sweeps freely across my sky
and I am open to a middle way,
a third stream on which I sail my little craft.
I give no details, for my way is white
and disembodied from the self that once I gripped.
My sister listens to my lapping oars;
my brother paves my way with silver strokes.

Rory:Title Refraining from Self Denial

Taken from the word in this well crafted poem, austerity.

Rory: Don't add that title, as it is not a contest 9of how many words, but more quality of the poem And I like this one very much!

James: This one is awesome! Love it! L:ook for the next challenge!

butterflyzrfree wrote:

Rory: Don't add that title, as it is not a contest 9of how many words, but more quality of the poem And I like this one very much!

Relax Gail, I was only kidding! Anyway, I posted it now.