Poems (4)

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This is a poem I had to write for creative writing class, following a list of constraints.

Constraints are: (each number represents a line and the 3rd one represents 5 lines)

1. begin the poem with a metaphor using lipstick, death, and discreet
2. say something specific but utterly preposterous
3. use at least one image for each of the 5 senses, in succession
4. use one example of synesthesia (mixing the senses)
5. use the proper name of a person and the peopler name of a place
6. contradict something you said earlier in the poem
7. change direction or digress from the last thing you said
8. use a word (slang) you've never seen in a poem
9. use an example of false cause-effect logic
10. use a piece of "talk" you've actually heard (preferably in a dialect and/or which you don't understand)
11. create a metaphor using the following construction: "The (adjective) (concrete noun) of (abstract noun)
12. use an image in such a way as to reverse its usual associative properties
13. make the persona or character in the poem do something he/she couldn't do in 'real life'
14. refer to yourself my nickname and in the third person
15. write in the future tense, such that part of the poem seems to be a prediction
16. modify a noun with an unlikely adjective
17. make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense
18. use a phrase from a language other than English
19. use personification
20. close the poem with a vivid image that makes no statement, but that 'echoes' an image from earlier in the poem




The Frozen arms of Winter

The discreet lipstick of death
One kiss from my lips and you're dead
You taste the black steel of my blade
The sharp tang of my breath in the cold air
A whispering cloud escapes me
And speaks softly, caressing my ear.
I long to feel the embrace of Winter
Though I know it will be my death
Through the murk of Winter's eve,
I spy Merlin Glen,
waving to his crowd of onlookers in Meadow's Grove,
and I sigh with longing
We kiss, after a long while, and I wonder.
Perhaps my lips are not
The bringers of death after all,
But the bringers of life and joy.
Smiling, I walk down a long forgotten path
Into the forest, all on my lonesome.
Boomchackalacka!
A slim arrow broke the thick branch of a tree
Because it couldn't bear the weight.
But, Darlin,' it's better to look good than to feel good,
And you know who you are!
The bold arrow of beauty
now decorates the tree, as free as a rock.
Spotting some men through the trees,
I blast fire at them and take off,
Tearing the arrow from the tree as I go.
And so Kallia sprinted through the trees
as an unknown enemy tore after her.
They eventually catch me,
But I will escape.
My captors are but fragile boulders
Along the path of my life.
I shall never give up!
Though you tie my hands,
You cannot tie my lips,
And that will be the death of you.
Mujn kus is dood (my kiss is death in dutch)
The ropes around my wrists untie themselves,
And I escape into the woods,
Embracing the frozen arms of Winter.