The Dome by Ron Woodruff (BlueDemon77)

DRY grassland | BROWN, withered | REEDS flowing | SEA-like boughs | BREAK upon | WOODen beach

MEM-or-ies | SPEC-ter like | CROWD the mind | BRINGing past's | TOken mists | Phantom smells

WELLsian | VENture to | VIEW the once | KNOWN shapes of | GRACEful neck | STRETCHing reach

HAND grown cold | CHEST pallor | DRAINED to know | PAIN of loss | HUMan hells

I'm not sure of my stressed or unstressed words as I tend to get it misplaced. But here it is.
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5th attempt

More More guns gathered, gun groups declared mission
People sitting as ducks, in this cold world
Evil driven psychos, destine to kill
As gun rights groups, make their wishes, well known

More guns/ gathered/ gun groups/ declared/ mission
People/ sitting/ as ducks/ in this/ cold world
Evil/ driven/ psychos/ destine/ to kill
As gun/ rights groups/ make their/ wishes/ well known

I saw the first of them today.
Little flashes of yellow riding
the breeze across in front of me.
Migration from tree to ground has begun.
Soon now this back road will be covered.
Leaping into the swirling air as I pass by.
An orange and red and yellow announcement.
Fall has returned.

Please don't go, stay with me, I will cry if you leave.
If you go I will crack and fragment into two.
Though broken I will wait patiently for your love.
Look behind you will find I am here loving you.

Please don't go / stay with me / I will cry / if you leave.
If you go /I will crack / and frag..ment / into two.
Though bro.ken / I will wait / patient..ly / for your love.
Look be.hind / you will find / I am here / loving you.

Second attempt:

Acid Reflux is no disease

just freeze
drink gallons of water
and inhale fresh breeze
never keep a stomach empty,
keep munching…
the stomach keeps producing acids
where and how will poor tummy use it
lest you arrange some feed

but never gorge
as all acid will
through ones throat forge

That much said in poetic form
my regrets
no clichés
no norms
nor metaphors
what for….
Poetry is just an expression
of the inner mind,
you may call it soul

Since everyone is moving onto Anapest here is my example. Remember we strive for strict form for the purpose of the workshop. Seldom will you write a poem entirely Anapestic. Help yourself by using polysyllabic words (words of many syllables). They, more than single or double syllable words, tend to mold to a meter surrounding them.

In a poem unaware lurks a line Anapestically true.

It is not very often that poems of this type are complete.

So then try as we might we are likely to fail at this form.

The dirge of damp dreams scream
plumes of puce
streams
that carry the seed of Satan's spawn
to the charnel house

The rising tide miasma might meander
if not for the corner charnel room
where evil form
evil does what evil will
forever

rain limmerick
sharp as crystal
falling through
summers vents

passing
in gloss jewel
fragments

burgundy
gathered
on the iron
lip

falling
down
the dark
drain well

a thrown wish
coiled
bred
emerged

struck
smooth
tactile
the boney
verbs

rivers of nouns
and a hall
of stained nerves

Far off, in the eastern sky
there flies a ranging vulture;
as a shadow in the rising sun.

It is called across the desert
and its song is wind and woe.

As its somber feathers flutter
lifted on the lofty airs,
tortured currents sweep it higher,
bear it on its carrion's call.

In the east, the dying, calling,
sing the song of all the damned.
On the west the rain is falling,
falling for the words we lost.

I will not follow you into the heart path of hate
to be torn by the claws of the beast within.
I'd rather be beheaded
than commit this inner sin.

Though you stab me with multi layered raw emotions,
plunging down into my chest and twisting in.
better that my soul be flayed
than I rouse the beast within.

I will not let your demon take away the brightness
that quells the shadow scratching inside my skin.
Peering from my deep insides
through flesh that's paper thin.