Sitting still
on a cold steel stool,
she begs, weeps
and hold her husband’s hand,
for one more second.
—
Endearing,
exquisite enchanter,
ends her adorable first cry
marking her life’s
very first second.
—
Captured candid
cheesy charade,
of a man kneeling for
a woman’s hand,
changed by a sudden
death in a second.
—
Old oak observes
ordeals, orbits of
earth’s occupants.
Seasons to season,
each and every second.
—
Nervous nerves
not needed.
She shakes them off,
as she owns the stage—
she dreamed all her life,
in just a few seconds.
—
Sorry, seconds could
not be stolen nor saved.
So snag, snap, smack
sing, spin, swing,stay,
every single second.
—
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Unsplash
P.S. I am not so sure if this fits as a cubist poem. But there you go. 🙂
In response to dVerse‘s Meeting the bar as a cubist poet by 
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) his own cubist poem about the arrangement of feathers!
For today I would like you to:
Select a simple object, or a common concept
Write several poems where you look at the object from different perspective. This perspective could be anything (poets have so much freedom than painters) such as being placed in a small narrative, at different part of the day or at different seasons.
Order your small poems in an order where you while striving to create contrasts and keeping the coherence of a complete poem.
