Blitz Poetry is an interesting style of poetry with specific rules. I have written this style of poetry in the past. I thought it might be interesting to play with it again in the cold month of February. The rules make this form of poetry challenging. The rhythm of the poems created using this style depends on word choice and placement. This style of poetry, created by Robert Keim, takes thought and precision. My experience in the past is that it can sometimes feel like you are writing on a fast-moving freight train filled with words. Even the title of the poem is found within the word placement. I call this Blitz poem Buried Between Place.
The rules for writing a Blitz Poem and Buried Between Place
A Blitz Poem is 50 lines of short phrases or images
*Line 1- use a short phrase or image
*Line 2-another short phrase or image that uses the same first word as the first word of line 1.
*Lines 3 and 4-short phrase or image that uses the last word of line 2 as the first word of the line.
*Lines 5 and 6, short phrases or images using the last word from line 4 as the first word. Continue until you reach line 48 using the same pattern found in this rule as lines 5 and 6.
*Line 49 will use the first word of line 48
*Line 50 should be the last word of 47
The title should be three words long, using the first word of line 3 followed by a preposition or conjunction and then the first word of line 47.
*There should be no punctuation.
As you can see, there are many rules, but I plan to have fun with this Blitz Poetry style.
Buried Between Place Picture of us Us found buried Buried in a box Buried in the attic Attic in a closet Attic where no one goes Goes now that everyone is gone Gone to live lives far away Away from the place we call here Away from the large pink house House on the messy corner House next to the junk man Man who collects trash Man who collects dreams Dreams destroyed by the past Dreams of the imagination Imagination that lingered Imagination and creative desire Desire to sprout wings and fly Desire to return home again Again reminders of when we were us Again to dream the first dreams Dreams of what was and Dreams of what might have been Been in the potential of us Been buried with the picture Picture in the attic above the stairs Picture of our smiling faces Faces filled with expressions Faces like tiny flowers Flowers longing for sun Flowers longing for soil Soil to help them grow Soil solid and firm Firm enough to let roots grow Firm enough to allow them to go Go to places away from here Go make a garden of their choice Choice in a chaotic world Choices I wouldn’t pick Pick and put in a crystal vase Pick and preserve with care Care for the flower slow to grow Care for the one smiling, sad Sad at me from the picture of us Sad not sure of the place Place to flourish and grow Place to call your own Place… Grow…
Who is Molly Shea?
Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh. To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.
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Nicely written. Which one in the picture is you?
Iam not seeing you on my feed again.
I.m the mom holding the baby. Rooster is the guy who still has his hair.
Haha, how time transforms is all!
You’re not receiving my feed because right now if I don’t write I’m allowed to sleep.
I’m having a little trouble with your site, though. Sometimes the JetPack won’t let me post comments on it, and I’ve had a little trouble with disappearing notifications for you too. We’ll keep an eye on it.
That makes sense.
Love this picture!!! Beautiful family
Thank you.
You’re welcome!