I felt the emotion in that one, Jazmee.|
My comment about free verse looking unfinished was directed at my own effort. Most of the poems I've done here were on the spot created, then posted almost without review.
The poem Tribute To Okla. City, and Delta's poem are exceptions. I had written both some time ago, while original they weren't recent.
Windswept you have breathed a new life into this thread. We had someone come and play a haiku before Martin, then I haiku'd all over trying to catch the knack.
Now free verse is sparking that tinder.
Reply #241. Sep 01 11, 12:09 PM
I agree with your assessment of Linda's role here, Postal. She's wafted in like a zephyr and brought new life to the thread with her airy (and sometimes-not-so airy) verse. Windswept, indeed! :)|
Reply #242. Sep 01 11, 12:44 PM
Yes, everyone, keep posting and keep writing. Once this happened. A ditty.|
Mornings are sunflowers
Hanging in the air
Waiting for someone
To put them somewhere.
Buck and I were teaching on a naval base then and everyone loved it. It is my only rhymed poem.
I think I really like poems I have fussed over a little bit--they are kind of prettier, each word just right and in the right place.
Enjoying everyone on here too.
Windswept (but I'll be Linda to you, ok?--unless someone wants to call me Windswept--that's fine too).
Reply #243. Sep 01 11, 1:42 PM
Linda, then. I'm not a total newbie, but compared to others---maybe so. My message board etiquette is to call by user name until invited otherwise.|
AS a teammate, you know my name is Dixie. I now invite my fellow poetry lovers to call me Dixie or Postal. If you call me Dixie on a thread outside of this, don't worry, it's been done before.
Oatmeal, do you craft stories as wel?
Reply #244. Sep 01 11, 5:24 PM
Postal, I couldn't write fiction if my life depended on it. I understand literature well, but I can't produce my own. I do recognize that I can turn a pretty phrase from time to time, and I guess that's something. I'm also a decent essayist. |
There's room for those of whose who merely appreciate and support you poets, though, and I look forward to reading more of your work.
Reply #245. Sep 01 11, 6:05 PM
Those of *us,* I meant! |
Reply #246. Sep 01 11, 6:06 PM
Re Linda's rhymed poem:|
Ah, sunflowers. They turn their faces to their lover (old Sol) every morning and every evening. Other languages reflect that action--girasol, girasole, tournesol--but English doesn't. Perhaps there *is* a 'flow' of light from lover to beloved and back again?
You'd think I could write poetry, wouldn't you, as sloppily romantic as it might be?
Reply #247. Sep 02 11, 9:32 AM
We keep trying, or waiting expectantly for the day wen inspiration will smack us in the face|
Reply #248. Sep 02 11, 9:36 AM
There's a lot of truth in what you say|
Inspiration can strike unexpectedly
Maybe today will be the day
We'll just have to wait and see! :)
Reply #249. Sep 02 11, 9:49 AM
I love the first two lines.
Feel you could add a one syllable word in the last line to bring out the rhyme a little more.
Reply #250. Sep 02 11, 10:03 AM
I could forever court the Muse, |
I could ply her with my verse,
But here you have my so-sad news:
My writing goes from bard to worse.
Reply #251. Sep 02 11, 11:01 AM
Well, change that last line to "I just go from bard to worse." Might as well have the correct syllable count, if nothing else. :( :)|
Reply #252. Sep 02 11, 11:03 AM
This Has No Title|
What is concrete
is at hand
at eye level
like waking up
in a sun-filled morning
with nothing to do all day.
There are poets
who ask what is the difference
in fact between
what is concrete
and what is abstract
But really, the answer
is too simple
for its question.
The juice of an orange,
white rind open,
the sun, the moon
and then, the question
coming from nowhere
"White rinds open" forever. lol
Reply #253. Sep 02 11, 12:13 PM
Mine was just off the cuff. The last line might have worked better as:|
"Well, we'll just have to wait and see".
Thanks for the positive feedback Linda.
Reply #254. Sep 02 11, 4:24 PM
Mine was off the cuff, too, as well as off the wall. |
Reply #255. Sep 02 11, 4:46 PM
So is this:|
She lies in wait
For something more,
A dream not quite fulfilled;
But what it is, she doesn’t know:
For memory fades with time.
A vain attempt to capture the lingering effects of dreams?
Reply #256. Sep 02 11, 5:08 PM
Yes Martin, that extra syllable. This board is a fine work in progress--it changes some every day. That's lovely.|
Reply #257. Sep 02 11, 5:42 PM
I wrote this quite a while ago: it is quite a contrast to the nature soaked poems I'm writing now.|
The Three Kings: Later
It is not that we don’t have
gifts and luxurious robes:
the child robbed the cradle
and his daddy’s not home.
The mare is in the kitchen
and the pope’s just on loan.
The food’s all dried out now
and the whistle doesn’t blow.
The roads have all been polished
and the stars don’t hardly show.
The roots are somewhat buried,
the times a passing slow,
we’re moving into darkness
where the candles rarely glow.
Where the gifts we bring
are seldom seen,
where there is no place to go.
Reply #258. Sep 03 11, 4:06 PM
I like that!|
Reply #259. Sep 03 11, 6:28 PM
Thank you about the Three Kings.|
This is a piece from a new poem I've just written.
in the far white
in the mountain village
in a rage of sunlight
Please post any piece of writing. Now, there are prose-poems. Let's get some writing on here.
That village in my mind is in Spain btw
Reply #260. Sep 04 11, 8:55 PM
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