Iron Poet, Round XII.
Welcome to the latest round of Iron Poet, the game where you give me three words and I give you a poem. This is an adaptation of a standard writer's workshop activity, and I do not claim the original concept. I just claim to enjoy doing it
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Style: I was originally thinking of a haiku. However, you've now convinced me that sonnet is the way to go. ^.~
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The Essential Item:
Shit, my schedule-book
is locked in a safe! No more
polyamory
Oops, I forgot "new."
Coming Out:
I know this is new,
but mom, polyamory
is safe. Ask the hippies!
Okay no more poetry for me.
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Fixing the first one could be done with
My new schedule-book
is locked in a safe! No more
polyamory
Have you heard the haiku definition haiku
Five, seven, five, right?
Dammit, I can't write like that!
F-ck this haiku sh*t.
Originally attributable to Reverend Nightwalker (back when I used to read alt.fan.neil-gaiman regularly), IIRC
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Trained to remember the shape of your hand.
Old love is mended where once it was torn,
Easy to live with, and to understand.
New love is hot love, it burns and it chills,
Burning so strangely, like frost holding flame.
New love cares little for those that it kills.
New love just asks you remember its name.
Where is the border, and where is the line,
Where is the point that can set us all free?
He can be yours, love, and you can be mine,
Old can meet new in polyamory.
Old ways are precious, but change can be grand.
Alter the rules with the touch of a hand.
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