Part 2: Fibonacci Poetry

Here are 4 more Fibonacci poems I’ve written:

“A Reason for Mermaids. A Season for Drowning.”

Sea
of
Mermaids
Sinking Ships
with beautiful songs
No one will save you from drowning.


“What is it That I Want?”

Love
Hate
Wanting
Something more
But how do I get
What I’m not even sure about?


“So This is Dying”

Life
Death
Falling
The abyss
with its gaping mouth
I see no ledge to hang on to.


“Easy to Forget”

Hi.
My
name is
Terri Jones.
Just kidding. You’ll forget me soon.

Part 1: Fibonacci Poetry

What is a “Fibonacci poem?” It’s a poem that has 6 lines and follows this certain pattern:

Line 1: 1 syllable
Line 2: 1 syllable
Line 3: 2 syllables
Line 4: 3 syllables
Line 5: 5 syllables
Line 6: 8 syllables


Here are three Fibonacci poems I’ve written:

“With Age — Understanding”

One
day
I will
understand
why things are this way
and why things didn’t turn out right.


“Lord Bacon: concealed poet”

Will
is
a Fraud.
Sir Francis Bacon,
He is the poet and playwright.


“It’s One or the Other”

Black
White
No Gray
In between
There is no middle
No maybe. No uncertainty.


Why don’t you give it a go? It’s pretty easy… and addicting. I’ve written a bunch of these and will be posing them in installments!

100WordStory Photo Prompt: Van Gogh and the Wise Sunflower

(Note: I submitted this piece for 100 Word Story‘s June ’15 photo prompt. I’ve included the photo below. I guess you could call this my dedication to Vinvent Vang Gogh and a sarcastic commentary on art criticism and fame in the art world.)

Van Gogh and the Wise Sunflower

by T. K. Jones

100wordstory-photo-prompt-june-2015

Photo credit: Kris Williams

“Did you know that the sky is a pool, where lights can swim? Paint what you see,” the sunflower urged Vincent Van Gogh. “Though none will care while you are here amongst the living.”

“You don’t need to remind me of my failures,” Van Gogh groaned. He sucked the tip of his paintbrush.

“Don’t waste your paints on your sad, hungry mouth. You’ve so much to give,” assured the sunflower.

Vincent squinted at the synchronized swimming of yellow and white streaking against the blue backdrop. He took liberties that would be much appreciated. Only after he was dead and buried.

© June 2015, T. K. Jones