1~Clear out the lint-filled clouds,
the inky sky’s settled in
forming a permanent stain,
and the sun’s spin cycle
can’t wring out worry
lines that need to be drained.
2~My womb’s a vacuum
unseen things swirling
in a bulging, upright bag;
self-love uses a lighter hose,
stretched umbilical cord tension
ends this gestational tidying session.
3~Sick of the small rack,
my mug is stacked sideways,
oversized, she’s hard to handle,
the saliva of our time together sanitized,
but the stickiness never dries
making room for more soiled vessels.
4~Damage is done in degrees,
only time dethaws the toughest meat
crispy from insults, broiling underneath,
and hatred warps too many tin trays;
to get flavor from your kill
roasting’s the only way.
5~Appliances lack self-reliance, and
I was stronger before convenience
modeled my emotions passé.
My air-conditioned aura captured by
a spotless energy-efficient gloom;
modernity’s an over-filtered room.
Artwork: Kelly Reemstens Spotted, 2015
Took my time crafting my very first Cadralor for Björn Rudberg Thursday d’Verse prompt. Let me know what you think.
What’s a Cadralor you ask?
The cadralor is a poem of 5, unrelated, numbered stanzaic images, each of which can stand alone as a poem, is fewer than 10 lines, and ideally constrains all stanzas to the same number of lines. Imagery is crucial to cadralor: each stanza should be a whole, imagist poem, almost like a scene from a film, or a photograph. The fifth stanza acts as the crucible, alchemically pulling the unrelated stanzas together into a love poem. By “love poem,” we mean that your fifth stanza illuminates a gleaming thread that runs obliquely through the unrelated stanzas and answers the compelling question: “For what do you yearn?”