POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.


This sadistic little adventure into “form” from Walt’s mind, the DESCENT takes us on a diminishing line count by combining five (5) separate short forms to express your muse. All relate to the subject of your poem, and go in a 5-4-3-2-1 countdown. You will include a Limerick, a Quatrain, a Haiku or Senryū, a Rhyming Couplet and a Monoku. That’s fifteen (15) lines. You must stay true to the form dictates for each form (described below). Give your poem a title. Begin with:

Limerick – a short, humorous, often lewd or nonsense poem in five-lines of anapestic or amphibrachic meter with a strict rhyme scheme (AABBA), which is sometimes obscene with humorous intent.

Quatrain – a stanza with four lines and a rhyme scheme. For purpose of this string of poems, we will use either an ABAB or AABB scheme.

Haiku or Senryū – Japanese Haiku are poems that use sensory language to capture a feeling or image. They are often inspired by an element of nature, a moment of beauty or a poignant experience. They traditionally consist of 17 “on,” or sounds, divided into three phrases (lines): 5 sounds, 7 sounds, and 5 sounds. English poets interpreted on as syllables. A Senryū poem has the haiku structure and is often confused with it. The poem’s topic centers on human nature, particularly the dark side. Cynicism or dark humor can underlie the images.

Rhyming couplet – Two lines that rhyme and have the same meter.

Monoku – Senryu or Haiku written in a single horizontal line. 17 syllables or fewer.



I think I’ll cry uncle this time.
I’m not in the mood to make rhyme.
My feet are disjointed,
Iamb disappointed.
My meter’s demanding a dime.
My quatrain’s off track
What would it entail
To get it pulled back
So it won’t derail?
I’m a poor poet
I can’t afford the syntax –
All my verse is free
I’m just in the mood
To sit here and brood.
An unassuming voice eerily orbits the tranquil moon: “Uncle.”
© Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013



There once was a girl named Melissa,
and ev’ryone ‘round her would kiss her.
On hand or on cheek
maybe once, twice a week,
and when they weren’t near her, they’d miss her.

Melissa grew up to meet the love of her life,
and now she is living her life as his wife.
Not losing a daughter, but gaining a son,
and glad she’s sure that he was the one.

Her empty room sits,
memories of her youth rise,
tears filling our eyes.

Happiness is what provides them,
making no attempt to hide them.

My age advances, now Andrea grows so fast, full of love for life.

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

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  1. Our Garden

    There was a poet one time,
    Who lived by her meter and rhyme:
    Free verse appalled her,
    Limericks galled her,
    And nonsense, to her, was a crime;

    One day she found an open gate
    That led into a Garden where
    A scene of besuty await:
    Clear strains of quatrains filled the air,

    Haikus and sonnets
    We’re scattered like Autumn leaves
    On the bright green grass,

    All the flowers were made of words
    And bobbed their heads like little birds;

    Here she found peace, a taste for free verse, and lots of lovely poet friends.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

    This is such a neat form! I never write limericks, though, if I can possibly help it, so the one above is not very good. 😉

  2. DebiSwim on said:

    Marie, your poem is sooo punny – love it.

  3. William Preston on said:


    When a monk puts a lock on a trunk
    and it breaks, then the monk’s in a funk;
    he must go to the padre
    or, if not, to the madre,
    and secure a new lock for his junk.

    The junk, of course, is holy stuff:
    the habits formed from, sure enough,
    long days of prayer in his cell
    to forestall time in limbo or hell.

    Brother Paul’s habit
    was brown with chartreuse tassels,
    which he kept locked up;

    when the padre gave Paul an expensive new lock
    he was vastly surprised; well, in truth, was in shock:

    upon the monk’s trunk sat an angel, who said, “Bad habits here.”

    copied right, more or less, 2013, William Preston

  4. DebiSwim on said:

    Walt, yours is so sweet and sad.

  5. William Preston on said:

    Walt, your offering is so tender; I can feel the emotions.

  6. DebiSwim on said:

    (I have heard Kai pronounced ‘Kay’ and as a rhyme with sky. I chose the rhyme for this poem.)

    Warm Kisses

    Once upon a time, it’s said,
    Kai, his eye and heart embed
    with a sliver of mirror
    and it couldn’t be clearer
    his demeanor filled Gerta with dread.

    Everything that he saw was ugly
    everything good was bad
    whatever he said, he said smugly
    and made poor Gerta so sad.

    One day he vanished
    The Snow Queen took him away
    Gerta forgotten

    Gerta was tricked by a witch, and forgot her quest for Kai
    but a rose jogged her memory and off she ran with a cry.

    Gerta found Kai in the land of ice and thawed his heart with a kiss.

  7. William Presston on said:


    When poeming in Japanese forms
    you must think in non-normative norms.
    For example, haiku
    uses sounds, just a few,
    to convey all the zephyrs and storms

    that punctuate the whole wide world
    from sea to shining sea.
    The sounds abound, like flags unfurled,
    in serendipity:

    on Fujiyama
    at the season of meadows
    silkworms start spinning

    and loose upon the poet’s mind
    an unexpected, startling find:

    monoku are best viewed with monocles.

  8. DebiSwim on said:

    monoku are best viewed with monocles – Ha, so clever and fun.

  9. Beautiful, Walt. And Marie, your piece is crazy good!

  10. Trippin’ Now’n’Then

    All luggage and backpacks are stuffed
    Can’t get on the road fast enough
    Vacation time’s here
    The Jeep is in gear
    If something’s forgotten, that’s tough

    ‘Bout fifty miles out things turned bad
    Our youngest can’t find her iPad
    Her panic turns quickly to smiles
    She had it with her all the while

    How did we exist
    Without digital matter
    To entertain us

    When on vacation as a child so long ago
    We had to sing or play or look out the window

    On our next va-ca, no electronics allowed; unplug for a while

    © 2013 Earl Parsons

  11. Rosemary’s Descent

    Young Satan was banished to earth.
    A harsh time he’s had since his birth.
    Born breach in a minute.
    They say no sin’s in it
    but mama lost some of her mirth.

    “Bring on the mugwort!
    Why such an evil sort
    Comes from my bowels?
    We need more towels!”

    The creature’s arrived
    Rare bunting will be needed
    To cuddle him close.

    “I’ll name him Lucifer for his bright eyes;
    as only a mother could kiss such surprise.”

    Malevolent cry: yet a mother hears it, always, as a child’s

  12. William Preston on said:

    THE RV

    It’s brand-new, so you’d better not scuff it,
    but my friend just delighted to stuff it
    with TV; microwave;
    water bed; instant shave;
    and the rest, so he could start to rough it

    in the wilds of the neighborhood parks
    where the house sparrows pester the larks;
    there is little to see in the trees
    but mosquitoes and some bumbling bees.

    Campers never fear
    wildlife in Camp Belvedere;
    comfort station near,

    but my friend in his grandiose RV
    has his own secure place to go pee.

    Occasional fox trotting by in moonlight turns green with envy.

    copyright (well, why not?) 2013, William Preston

    • I haven’t camped in an RV for so long. We always go tent camping…and I must say, after reading this, I’ll stick with the more “unplugged” way of tents. 😉

  13. Those campers so much fun and so ‘romantic’ until your water pipes freeze to solid ice, overnight, on an isolated mountaintop near the Grand Canyon, lol.

  14. Mangia! Mangia!

    New York to Portland move
    Gave us a chance to improve
    our quality of life
    with no stress or strife
    But Italian food misses the groove.

    In our old neighborhood back east,
    Italian restaurants abounded,
    Each offering its own special feast.
    It’s so different here, I am astounded.

    Crisp fried calamari
    Lemon squirt or spicy sauce
    Just a lead-in course.

    Have you ever had Chicken Sorrentino
    with prosciutto, eggplant, and red vino?

    A slice of Italian cheesecake dusted with confectioner’s sugar

  15. He

    He keeps watch over us from on high
    From the time we are born ‘til we die
    He sees and He hears
    And fights back His tear
    His children are lost, so He cries

    We’ve forgotten the Truth and the Way
    We’re rebellious; we no longer obey
    We’ve turned our backs on the Lord
    Dust bunnies cover His Holy Word

    We refuse His will
    We could have a life fulfilled
    Yet He loves us still

    When will we wake up from our selfish trance
    Or push things too far and blow our last chance

    Before it’s too late, we should ask for His mercy, and He will forgive

    © 2013 Earl Parsons

  16. connielpeters on said:

    Send the Rain

    Said farmer Brown, “It’s amazing.
    On the stubble these cows are grazing.
    If we don’t get rain soon.
    Instead of jumping the moon
    These cows will receive quite a hazing.

    There’s smoke in the air, not cooking
    For storm clouds we’re diligently looking
    The lakes mere puddles of mud
    The crops will surely be dud

    Wild mountain grasses
    Look recently mowed and trimmed
    Gasping for moisture

    Blue skies deceptively cheery
    The drought does render us dreary

    May God’s fingers drum happily on our roofs.

  17. Marie, your set was unique and so clever. Loved it!

  18. This was fun…I like the form.

    The Ballad of Dirk and Burke

    There once was a man named Dirk
    who had time while he was at work
    to go to the gym
    to stay fit and trim
    it was quite an on-the-job perk

    another in the office named Burke
    surfing the web all day was for him
    produced much less, but was still a jerk
    to Dirk because he could stay slim

    a wise man suffers
    the enmity of a fool

    Dirk quoted to Burke

    who complained to the boss
    Dirk’s gym time was a loss

    The boss seemed all ears, nodding along with the rant, Burke now surfs for work

  19. Pingback: Poem: The Ballad of Dirk and Burke | Wanna Get Published, Write!


    There lived once a madman from Munich
    Who took hold of Germany and ruined it.
    He ranted and raved,
    Sent millions to graves,
    That moustached, sadistic old eunuch.

    Yet still those Nazis will rally,
    Even now deem Adolf a saint.
    They plot new terrors in alleys
    Where on walls their swastikas paint.

    We claim we are wise
    But not if we read history
    and learn nothing from it

    Banish monsters like Adolf to brimstone.
    They deserve hell eternal and no poems!

    Forgive me, Lord, for wasting my ink on a goose-stepping scoundrel!


    • William Preston on said:

      This reminds me of an old Joke: Hitler visits a fortune teller, who tells him, “You will die on a Jewish holiday. ” Hitler is surprised, and asks what holiday it is. “Any day you die will be a Jewish holiday,” she replies.

  21. Angie on said:

    Some very good poems all. I seem to be lost here on FB. Is this where I would post if I had a poem. Miss Gather.

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