Cuando me siento inca, le rindo vasallaje
al Sol, que me da el cetro de su poder real…

José Santos Chocano

From mist-shrouded Macchu Pichu,
runners bring news
encoded in the Kipu.
From heights of Tawantinsuyu
Inti smiles upon the singer,
enthroned in Andean splendor;
Cuzco and Titicaca,
golden heart of the sun, Koricancha—
all release their showers;
vapor-born of snow and tropic humidity…
until, through jungle gorges
the waters descend
and finally flow
into their own names:
Orinoco, Amazonas.

Pachakuti Inca Yupanqui
blesses the many streams
and the plaintive flutes sing
of Viracocha, Pachacamac.

Yes, this IS about a Taylor Swift song.

Merriam-Webster put together a list of ten words from Taylor Swift songs.
[…] select one these words, and write a poem that uses the word as its title.

Some poets love these foreign syllable-based lyrical forms…
But what if it is just attraction to the exotic
And ultimately said syllables contain no message?

Although God has established His new covenant in Christ,
And although Christ’s sacrifice on the cross atoned for sin,
Still, preaching the Gospel confirms sinners in unbelief.

PROMPT #28:

try your hand at writing a sijo. This is a traditional Korean verse form with three lines of 14-16 syllables. The first line introduces the poem’s theme, the second discusses it, and the third line, which is divided into two sentences or clauses, ends the poem – usually with some kind of twist or surprise.

    The  ACCUSATION

Your verse has offended the Muses. The blame
Must be laid on your poetry: limping and lame
As it drags itself over the last crippled line;
A dead-end for your readers (but you missed the sign).
Your scrawling has challenged the unwritten code
And it’s far more than meaning your readers are owed…
We need RHYTHM with ORDER and measured RESTRAINT;
More range in your palette might help you to paint
Us a picture where color and nature, enhanced
With the music of syllables leave us entranced.
But instead, all your verbiage has put us to sleep,
For your lines are as shallow as Boredom is deep.

The ARGUMENT

Rhythm is ORDER and order is key.
It is only through measure that music is free
An offense to the Muses, depressing to hear,
Is a verse without rhythm, insulting the ear.
Lyric STRUCTURE brings LIBERTY. Freedom gives life.
Free verse?  Oxymoron—and morons are rife.
Confessional slop . . . yes it’s free, like a prison;
But MEANING grows clear in the service of reason.

The JUDGEMENT

Your poetry’s up for the yearly review:
Mostly sighing and dithering. Sorry, it’s true.
Your muses are clueless, so send them all packing.
Your modernist drivel is found to be lacking
In context, coherency, substance and wit.
Upon careful re-reading, the Verdict: it’s shit.
As regarding the rambling verse you call “free”,
A real Muse, unimpressed by your English degree
Would imprison your lines and then throw out the key.

Promoting freedom’s flame to distant lands
Sparking transgender fires to backwards folk,
IF they obey the Pentagon’s commands
Or lose the loans they signed for (what a joke);
Progress and stability up in smoke
In the name of Savior America;
Preaching fake democracy as a cloak
For Malthusian esoterica—
Don’t know what that means? Then go look it up
And show us that you are not merely slow,
Drinking from your low-information cup.
As we bomb villages to dust—hello. 
And then pave it over to build a mall
Paid for with your taxes . . . this is your call.

PROMPT #27:  write an “American sonnet”.