Two Sentence Tuesday #11

The raging warrior raised his blood-flecked gladius high above his head in savage triumph. Throughout the colossal throng of spectators, not a celebratory whisper was offered.

30 Day Poetry Challenge - Day Fourteen

Day Fourteen - Terza rima was created by Italian poet Dante in the late 13th century for his epic poem The Divine Comedy. It’s composed of “tercets woven into a rhyme scheme that requires the end-word of the second line in one tercet to supply the rhyme for the first and third lines in the following tercet.”

It’s sometimes considered too difficult to use this structure in English, but we're going to do it anyway! Today's challenge is to write a poem in terza rima.

Texas for the Cup

 

Seven skilled players thundering down the field,

Toward towering hoops; the target of their aim;

Armed with ball and broomstick, refusing to yield.

Scored one brilliant goal; the next was just the same;

They followed with three goals, four goals, five, and more,

Determined to know victory in this game.

Across the grass with balletic grace, they soar,

Guiding quaffles with surgically practiced hands,

Their deft aim flies true and elevates their score.

But one amongst them has the greatest demands,

For within his skill contains the match’s end,

And the crowd intently marks him from the stands.

Against his quick grasp, the Snitch could not defend,

And so the victory Cup, they’d apprehend.

For the Win

For the Win

By Brandon Palzkill

Oh, to succeed,

to accomplish your dreams,

to savor sweet victory

instead of defeat.

Facing adversity,

seizing the day,

finding no worries

that you cannot beat.

Undauntedly rising

and winning the fight,

to conquer every

challenge you meet.

Salve Victores

Salve Victores

By Brandon Palzkill

Sound triumphant coronets,

hear their echoes, far and wide,

a victory we shan’t forget,

sound triumphant coronets!

Gone, all fear and all regret,

with turmoil’s parting, it did ride,

sound triumphant coronets,

hear their echoes, far and wide!

Life in Technicolor - VIII

Life in Technicolor – Part VIII

By Brandon Palzkill               

Everyone said he was crazy

for running the race;

out of shape, past his prime.

He’d run for miles;

fourteen… or was it fifteen?

He had to keep going;

he couldn’t stop;

couldn’t let himself give up.

Had to run… had to keep going…

It was all that he had left;

to cover those last few miles,

to glide across that finish line;

a desperately needed win

in his needlessly losing life.

He’d failed completely,

beyond the war,

even as he schemed to succeed;

his truly, madly, deeply

had gone;

flown away; lost to the winds;

sacrificed in his Pyrrhic quest

for financial gratification.

Nearly there… almost there…

She left him behind

and his green false security

became a meaningless trifle,

to be squandered away

until he had nothing…

except the road ahead.

He ran to cross his final miles,

old in years, young in will,

and abandoned all thoughts

of pain and sickness

as the path disappeared

beneath his feet.

Forward… forward…

He ignored the warning

creeping up his arm.

He lost his breath,

but didn’t let that slow him.

He would cross that finish

line;

nothing would stop him;

nothing would hold him back.

Yards to go… feet away…

nearly there… slowing down…

stumbling, trying to catch his breath…

he crashed and fell, inches away…

he rolled… he’s in…

it’s over… he did it…

a small win; an important victory;

a milestone to end the day.

Accepting My Invitation

Accepting My Invitation

By Brandon Palzkill

Result!!!

A long-awaited

victory,

to brighten up my day.

Invitation for adventure;

all too happy

to accept;

to sign on;

to lose myself in the

mysterious bliss,

exploring exciting

new avenues.

Want to go,

but obligations

on my precious time

halt me

in my tracks.

I’m ready, though,

and willing; able,

and soon,

my moment will

arise;

I’ll put the world

on hold,

and dive right in…

let the adventure

begin.