It's Still Life

The Architecture of a Moment

Notes: Rooted in the oldest English tradition, Anglo-Saxon accentual verse follows the rhythm of breath and heartbeat rather than syllable or rhyme, where meaning is carried by cadence, image, and pause.

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The Architecture of a Monster (long form)

It did not hate the trees,
that held a thousand years of dawn.
They were simply in its way,
and so it broke them
like toothpicks.

And it did not intend to scar
the white cliffs,
to carve its name
with a furious, salt-soaked hand.

It was a tidal wind breathing.

And it did not seek
to reshape the coast.
It was an artist with
a single, brutal momentum.

And the shore was its canvas, waiting.

We called it a monster,
its force beyond our naming,
a reminder
that nature is never tame.

It was the earth
turning in its sleep,
and we were the ones
who woke, screaming.

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The Architecture of a Monster
(Accentual Verse Variant – four-beat, Anglo-Saxon pulse)

It hated nothing.
Not oak, not dawn.
They stood in its path,
and so were broken.

It carved the cliff
with salt-slick hand,
its roaring breath
a tidal wind.

It shaped the coast
with ruthless art,
one brutal sweep
of stormborne will.

The shore lay bare,
a canvas waiting.

We named it monster,
a force past knowing;
wild reminder
nature’s not tame.

Earth turned in sleep;
its dream was wrath.
And we were those
who woke, screaming.

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Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge prompt word: Monster”. Poems/prose, some AI/images ©Misky 2006-2025.