silently, shaking, lips taped for the
complete silence they drove, she by his
tense frightened eyes, pierced the cold and dark
all untruths spat from alcohol, he
his treat, her fear gave him thrills, was his
hands bound with leather, she prayed to be
smirking beside her, the faces she
insurmountable thrill, gained from her
young girl, starting out her life as a
breathing uncontrolled they drove past the
she knew if she fought her pain would be
remnants of her life flung out from her
dragged out, forced on knees told not to look
whiskey breath, he sliced, had pleasure in
©jmtacken Feb 2014
So tempted to put boowahaa on the end…
Tony at Dverse http://dversepoets.com has us writing on the following – I don’t know where my brain is sitting right now..oh and Happy Valentine’s Day…
Bouts-rimés (boo reeMAY) is French for “rhymed ends”. It is the name given to a poetic game in which a list of words that rhyme with one another is given to one or more poets who then make their own poems, all of which use the same rhyming words in the order in which they were given at the end of their lines.
The words are: drive, side, night, lied, wage, saved, made, face, nurse, church,worse, purse, back, that
As you can see, there are fourteen words, so a fourteen line poem is what we’re after. You might want to stretch yourself and try writing a fully formed sonnet in iambic pentameter (that’s 10 syllables in a line, with the stress on the even-numbered syllables), but you don’t have to … smiles.
I stretched myself had them all in the wrong order and re-did thanks to a nudge from Brian once again – so thank you.