A Woke Poem

Well I guess some pain happens for a reason. I already was rudely awakened by this damn hip, leg, and knee pain once this morning, around 3 a.m., and then again at 8 a.m., but to my surprise I was able to write a poem.

Nocturnal are the night sea birds,
The fish swim against the bride’s curl.

Nocturnal she is, without sun
On her face, deep vibes roll and run.

Water rippling, red fishes
Swimming free, her locks all twisted.

Water cooling the night sea bride.
Her tale of song, as smooth as hide.

And blow she does, nocturnal shade –
The scum on the bottom, for taste.

Blow the red fishes, all gills hold.
And night sea birds and night sea bride,

Fight for the red fish delight, under
These waves, nocturnal, cool, plunder,

In the twisted locks, a fair tow –
Nocturnal water blow.

This poem was written from a three-word promt: Nocturnal, Water, Blow.

And in 100 words, a story or poem.

If anyone is interested look up the Facebook group One-Hundred Words.


© Kristian J. Duncan                           2019


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