i can't afford to take this risky trip
deep within the recesses of my mind;
where sanity hangs on by just a thread
and the Fates' scissors do threaten to snip.
i can't contend with the fear that does bind--
paralyzing me from taking this flight
deep within the recesses of my mind.
my sanity hangs on by just a thread
and my tour guides are far from a delight.
how can i not fear what lay up ahead?
while the Fates' scissors threaten to snip,
how do i contend with the fears that bind--
when i do not know what lies up ahead?
i cannot chance taking this risky trip.
i think i may have stretched the theme for Jingle Poetry's Poetry Potluck [trips, travel, and vacation]. but i haven't really been on any trips lately, nor have i thought about taking any recently...besides, the first two lines just floated into my head so i decided to go with it.
while there is a definite structure to the poem above, it (to my knowledge) does not fit any actual poetic form. but with my affinity for repeating lines it speaks a dialect of pantoums and villanelles. upon expanding the first two lines into the first stanza, it was not my intent to stick to any structure, though the syllable count of ten seemed to natural not to stick with. i also took note of the first and fourth lines rhyme and the internal lines identical consonant ending. as i opened up the second stanza and realized it rhymed with one of the internal lines from the first, well you can see above how my brain took over and developed the structure. it was definitely fun to toy a non-form form (if that makes any sense).