Poetry: Laughter

The poetry of laughter…

Hola, Reader!

Today I am sharing one of my simple poems, “Laughter.” I wanted to describe as many kinds of laughter as I could. If you can think of other kinds of laughter, or have any critiques on the poem, please let me know in the comments below!

There is a kind of glee,
That makes one slap the knee,
Rolling around soundlessly,
Tears outpouring from the eyes.

A kind that rolls around the seas,
And leaps into the playground leaves,
And slips amid the shifting sands,
And dashes with the dancing rain.

A kind that's like a bellow forge,
Blazing fire deep within,
And catches fire in other souls,
And for a while uplifts hearts.

A kind that mimics hyenas,
Skipping around so gleefully;
Embarrassingly filling cantinas,
Yet when children do it sounds so silly.

A kind that sings so quietly
Inside the soul quite willingly,
Only showing in a small smile,
Shining forth under firelight.

A kind that echoes chillingly
And fills its foes so fearfully;
Filling their backbones up with ice,
Gripping their heart with cold black fear.

There's a kind that jeers in the ears
And laughs at other's sorry plight.
At their expense they laugh,
Pointing fingers meanly.

A kind that's pointless, meaningless;
It is used only to agree,
To gain approval and allies.
"Just smile and nod," that's what they say.

Then an awkward, halting laughter,
When you don't know how to respond,
Or when you say a joke but then
No one hears or finds it funny.

Then a kind so welcoming,
It invites all people in;
They calm right down and want to stay,
And by the warm hearth always lay.

What do you think is the most interesting kind of or thing about laughter? Did I get all (if not most) of the kinds of laughter you know of?

Thank you for reading! Have an awesome week and God bless!

-Anne B. Caitlin

Poetry: The Idea

“The Idea” by Anne B. Caitlin

Hola, Reader!

Today I am sharing yet another one of my poems: “The Idea”. This is another one of my favorite created poems.

Enjoy!

The words mingled in her mind
Swirling, whirling, a golden find.
She raced up to her room
Praying to find some paper soon
Grasping, clasping the memory close
Before the lovely lines bid adios.
In a swirl in a frenzy scratched the feather
Upon the little tree bound in leather,
Blocking all sound ‘cept the supper chime.
She did not dare to dine
Whilst remained the revelation.

Insistent rang the bell, still did she not come.
Fought she fiercely, struggled strongly,
Wrestling the idea’s resistance singly.
A slip, a dash, a tackle down–
‘Till at last the battle was done.
Heart beating, heavy breathing,
Slumping to her seat, the wing-
Feather flying with the weary wind.
Her feat was recorded and
The deed by dinner rewarded.
Her mind was done, but then was fed.

Anne B. Caitlin

While this was one of my more… old-fashioned-words style poems, I loved “the idea” of this poem. This describes a lot of writers’ experience with ideas. The frantic search for paper, pen, phone, computer, or typewriter before they forget the idea. The suddenness of the inspiration–it doesn’t wait for a good time to appear. It just pops into your head, demanding immediate attention and insisting to be written down at once.

What do you think? What was your favorite/least favorite line(s)? What do you like to write your ideas down on?

Hope you’re having a great week!

-Anne