Met, or: Four

sound mallet through thick skull
splatters mind upon cranium
on the inside
you are 
disoriented
eyes rolling back 
along with other vowels
flipping images back right 
side up on your retinas
flutter eyelids 
butterflies
ascend from your 
stomach uneasily queasily
through shuddering esophagus
choking back your tears
streaming camera
angled
at your face
it - you can't handle
such explosive rush of metaphor

The above poem is my take on d’Verse’s ‘Opening lines…beginnings’ prompt.

d’Verse prompted us to think about find that “best first line” –

  • see if you can hook yourself a new reader with upfront vivid images and unusual word use;
  • maybe stick with tradition (starting top left) or forge out in a new direction, maybe even a one line, or even a one-word poem;
  • perhaps try your hand at some found poetry, make something shapely or striking or something off the fridge;
  • or perhaps a poem beginning with a line by a poet who’s provoked or enthralled or charmed or annoyed you (don’t forget to link to the original poem in your post).

53 thoughts on “Met, or: Four”

  1. Great imagery…. A really creative piece. I actually loved the gore 🤣. Enjoyable read 😊🌹

  2. Your opening line certainly hammers home, David, with violent imagery that was unexpected, but I suspected you were playing with an extended metaphor when I read ‘eyes rolling back / along with other vowels’. Clever ending!

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