Learning about Poetry (part 9): Words for the senses

The original content and poetry research on this page is by Ken Wickham.

This poetry research is property of Ken Wickham written for World of the Fifth Sun blogster by Ken Wickham. It is readable by visitors to this website location only—not as a PDF, HTML, JavaScript, nor program. It is intended in this version and future versions, to help bring website traffic and use to this specific section or other author cross-post location.

This game, parts, or resulting text may not be reproduced or shared in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, reposting, or otherwise for any other person—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

©2020 by Ken Wickham

All rights reserved.

Here is where my prior research left off, with a clean slate of rhymes for the next exercises or more.

I heard the busk,

echo the city dusk.

I'm just a husk,

of my former self.

Protruding sharp and long, 

impaled the tusk.

From noon to dusk.

A heavy scent of musk.

Don't be brusque!

Hurt and lusk.

Eating cusk and rusk.

The sliding and gliding mollusk.

A single foot of a mollusk.

Aromatic musk.

There by dusk.

Gone by dusk.

First, I will pass through and pull out verses that deal with sound, tastes, scents, touch, and sight—very similar to my Fact Generator.

Sound

I heard the bombastic busk,

blasting echoes in the city dusk.
"Don't be brusque!" I said to the one most abrupt.

Scent

A heavy scent of lingering fresh musk.

Beads of sweat on skin forming an aromatic musk.

Scent and Touch

Eating fishy cusk and crunchy rusk.

There by rainy, wet dusk.

Touch and sight

The slippery sliding and gliding slimy mollusk.

Protruding sharp and long, like fangs

impaled deep and deadly the tusk.

Sight

I'm just an empty dried husk,

of my ancient former self.

Hurt and lusk, unmoving, sunken in a sofa.

From bright noon to darkening dusk.

A single undulating foot of a dark shelled mollusk.

Gone far by final dusk.

Although not as brief, the verses seem to have a little more weight and detail. Next post I'll take a look at how many adverbs and adjectives I can reduce vague description and make more detailed and exact.