fit of passion eyes ablazing
getting tangled words perplexed
losing sight of all important
no devising plans nor context
heart full pumping mad and crazing
finding things aren't quite so easy
shades of grey not pitch and whitewash
doctrines little spurted soundly
hard determination razing
feeling anguish overtake you
out against the false cried notion
that the world is just askew
lost and lonely will unfazing
trying not to lose control now
difficulty in the stillness
rid the mind of strength avowed
fit of passion eyes ablazing
heart full pumping mad and crazing
hard determination razing
lost and lonely will unfazing
In my endless stuggle to try something different, this is trochaic tetrameter. It suits the strong accentual feel I wanted to project in describing overwhelming temper taking hold. There's no punctuation to add to the ambiguity of certain lines.
It's certainly different from my usual voice, but I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing. I suppose if you find most of your poetry being self-reflexive joking iambic, that means something. My natural persona is one of wit (or silly humour) as opposed to anger, depth, sorrow, passion. I am superficial, hollow. Still, writers experiment, it's part of our nature.
