This poem, written for a workshop, is a Naga Uta–a syllabic poem of 5 and 7 syllables per line in this order: 5/7/5/7/…as long as you like, ending in 5/7/7. No rhyme is required.
GRAVEYARD
Grim mortuary.
Muddy smudges on dull skins
Streak across pumpkins.
Wry orange countenances.
Faces etched in pain.
Farmer John dumped his children.
Pumpkins buried here.
Carved in glory for lanterns.
Usefulness ended.
Tossed aside November one.
So soon forgotten.
Jagged tooth frowns, eyes still lit!
Glaring through dawn’s mist.
Angry protesting pumpkins.
All Saint’s Day chorus.
Chanting supernatural.
Here in Farmer John’s compost.
Copyright 2006 JO Janoski
[...] And, of course, those pumpkins, in the graveyard, they’re alive. Heading off for new journeys looking for new ways to jive. [...]