Jonathan Riley
from Memphis, Tennessee is reading Flashover by Gordon Highland March 6, 2013 - 5:40pm
This month's prompt:
Case
voodoo_em
from England is reading All the books by Ira LevinMarch 7, 2013 - 8:06am
Escape
My legs are bent.
Cramped and folded.
Inside the old family suitcase.
The soft stink of last years beach holiday,
Caught in invisible grains of sand.
Scratching my back.
In here I'm Nosferatu.
Teeth bared, arms crossed against my chest.
What only looks like luggage offers the kind of dark you can forget little kid fears in.
OtisTheBulldog
from Somerville, MA is reading The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot DiazMarch 7, 2013 - 7:36pm
Nice, Em! Very visual.
I'm working on one for this myself. I mean to participate in this thread from hereforth. JR, you have permission to call me out should I not do so. Poetry is something I blow at, and I want to get better, and I want to read my fellow LRs work.
Jonathan Riley
from Memphis, Tennessee is reading Flashover by Gordon Highland March 7, 2013 - 8:41pm
Very cool Em. Hope people get into this again. I didn't think many people arround here enjoyed reading or writing poetry too much so I didn't do one last month, But hopefully it will pick back up!!
Write something for this Otis!!!
voodoo_em
from England is reading All the books by Ira LevinMarch 8, 2013 - 6:46am
Thanks guys :)
iamsnaggletooth
March 8, 2013 - 1:03pm
That was nice, Em.
police man garbage can
flash light suit case
bad man good man
sad man 'hood man
baseball bat slam gat
bone mash wood crash
red big flood gash
split skin get in
life is trash life his trash.
Strange Photon
from Fort Wayne, IN is reading Laurie Anderson lyricsMarch 8, 2013 - 2:41pm
Nice to see even a little bit of appreciation for poetry here. That's not to say it didn't exist before, but when I was here last, there wasn't a forum such as this thread. Thanks for starting it, Riley, I shall indeed be participating.
voodoo_em
from England is reading All the books by Ira LevinMay 15, 2013 - 6:00am
Hmmmm... anyone seen JR?
Time for a new prompt I think.
Jonathan Riley
from Memphis, Tennessee is reading Flashover by Gordon Highland June 8, 2013 - 12:34am
PLIGHT OF THE POET. BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND:
Or maybe just because VoodooEm asked. She is very Popular.
Jonathan Riley
from Memphis, Tennessee is reading Flashover by Gordon Highland June 13, 2013 - 8:45pm
the springboard echoes
in a full natatorium-
the diver spills
into the drink-
her back spanks the
blue-sheet
and the 1.0's flash
behind her.
when the black stars
before her eyes subside-
she surfaces to a standing ovation.
voodoo_em
from England is reading All the books by Ira LevinJune 10, 2013 - 3:06am
JR who you been talking to, I am sooooooo not popular :)
And yay ~ new prompt!!
Poem coming soon....
Flybywrite
from Rocky Point, Long Island is reading The Bride Comes to Yellow Sky, by Stephen CraneJune 11, 2013 - 7:14am
Well, I want to get on the way to completing short stories and poems that are at the very least coherent. So it's cool that this thread is here at the top and active. Shorter forms riding an emotional wind are all I have time for because my work increases in the summer anyway. My poems do tend toward the ridiculous, which is why I write prose, but lately there all winter through spring it's been a constant fight through already completed material to be as clear as possible, but also free enough to be able to make those choices between words and scenes that are my own, made by my own stylistic lights. So in a sense that can be a grind, the search to be completely free of any other clamor, and also to be interesting plus to readers.
What's freeing about poetry even if it isn't your specialtly, is just the sound of the word seems to get the wings for subjectively free flight beating. So it'll be fun to bust loose a bit, now that I've got a novella posted, and am putting aside my other two except to study hard copies of until the fall, and I plan to start a spillage poem today.
A Biblical warning against undue spillage I recall being recited and commented upon by a nun when i was twelve or so,begins roiling; but then, too, I'm very sick of the perverse, and hellfire, and Christian collisions of all sorts. It seems there's gotta be a cute poem, a spilt apple juice memory or two, some, wasn't it funny when Daddy slipped and fell on his ass kind of thing, hanged up somewhere in the old attic. Anyway, looking forward to searchin about, and spillin't the beans for whatever. Rx, Flyby
Flybywrite
from Rocky Point, Long Island is reading The Bride Comes to Yellow Sky, by Stephen CraneJune 11, 2013 - 8:58am
Okay, so, bad poem below. Twisted Christian: that's a Long Island band if I'm not mistaken.
Mind Your Soup Boys:
Big Sister made up her mind that until she explained to her boys the temptation to spill their big choices to come might not come from free will. To make big hard pictures bright, and to make them dark too, she could tell, required a Biblical hand date. And when it fell upon her boys what they'd used in wasted earth, she could see, her read aloud voice had more power than God’s mandate.
Two boys tittered one laughed, and the latter drew wrath, the entire class silenced in big sister’s eyes blazing bath. A red monster appeared when she warned of God’s hatred, in this wasting of our most precious features; then drew a dark picture, dying, gasping spilt fishes, mud lost to the building of filthier creatures.
voodoo_em
from England is reading All the books by Ira LevinJune 12, 2013 - 1:18am
Functioning
Two in the afternoon
And she’s drunk already
Over emotional and irrational
Irritating the way people always are
When you’re the sober one
Tugging at my shirt sleeve
And my heart strings
Those big sad eyes
She spills her guts
And her emotions
Over white porcelain
Every morning
Every night
Lost at sea
Swimming for the shore
She says: I’m trying to cope
She says: This is self-help
But all I see is drowning.
Covewriter
from Nashville, Tennessee is reading & SonsJune 13, 2013 - 8:40pm
Ya'll are all so good. I re read some of my postings and think cadence is my issue. I'm trying to go by all the craft rules, but Ned to work on the sound of the sentences. Does that make sense? Poetry is what it is all about.
Renfield
from Hell is reading 20th Century GhostsJune 15, 2013 - 11:05am
Did I derail the popular prompt thread or is nobody online over the weekend?
jyh
from VA is reading whatever he feels likeJune 16, 2013 - 7:29pm
This month's prompt:
Case
Escape
My legs are bent.
Cramped and folded.
Inside the old family suitcase.
The soft stink of last years beach holiday,
Caught in invisible grains of sand.
Scratching my back.
In here I'm Nosferatu.
Teeth bared, arms crossed against my chest.
What only looks like luggage offers the kind of dark you can forget little kid fears in.
Nice, Em! Very visual.
I'm working on one for this myself. I mean to participate in this thread from hereforth. JR, you have permission to call me out should I not do so. Poetry is something I blow at, and I want to get better, and I want to read my fellow LRs work.
Very cool Em. Hope people get into this again. I didn't think many people arround here enjoyed reading or writing poetry too much so I didn't do one last month, But hopefully it will pick back up!!
Write something for this Otis!!!
Thanks guys :)
That was nice, Em.
police man garbage can
flash light suit case
bad man good man
sad man 'hood man
baseball bat slam gat
bone mash wood crash
red big flood gash
split skin get in
life is trash life his trash.
Nice to see even a little bit of appreciation for poetry here. That's not to say it didn't exist before, but when I was here last, there wasn't a forum such as this thread. Thanks for starting it, Riley, I shall indeed be participating.
Hmmmm... anyone seen JR?
Time for a new prompt I think.
PLIGHT OF THE POET. BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND:
Or maybe just because VoodooEm asked. She is very Popular.
Find the rules heer!
This months prompt: Spill
the springboard echoes
in a full natatorium-
the diver spills
into the drink-
her back spanks the
blue-sheet
and the 1.0's flash
behind her.
when the black stars
before her eyes subside-
she surfaces to a standing ovation.
JR who you been talking to, I am sooooooo not popular :)
And yay ~ new prompt!!
Poem coming soon....
Well, I want to get on the way to completing short stories and poems that are at the very least coherent. So it's cool that this thread is here at the top and active. Shorter forms riding an emotional wind are all I have time for because my work increases in the summer anyway. My poems do tend toward the ridiculous, which is why I write prose, but lately there all winter through spring it's been a constant fight through already completed material to be as clear as possible, but also free enough to be able to make those choices between words and scenes that are my own, made by my own stylistic lights. So in a sense that can be a grind, the search to be completely free of any other clamor, and also to be interesting plus to readers.
What's freeing about poetry even if it isn't your specialtly, is just the sound of the word seems to get the wings for subjectively free flight beating. So it'll be fun to bust loose a bit, now that I've got a novella posted, and am putting aside my other two except to study hard copies of until the fall, and I plan to start a spillage poem today.
A Biblical warning against undue spillage I recall being recited and commented upon by a nun when i was twelve or so,begins roiling; but then, too, I'm very sick of the perverse, and hellfire, and Christian collisions of all sorts. It seems there's gotta be a cute poem, a spilt apple juice memory or two, some, wasn't it funny when Daddy slipped and fell on his ass kind of thing, hanged up somewhere in the old attic. Anyway, looking forward to searchin about, and spillin't the beans for whatever. Rx, Flyby
Okay, so, bad poem below. Twisted Christian: that's a Long Island band if I'm not mistaken.
Mind Your Soup Boys:
Big Sister made up her mind that until she explained to her boys the temptation to spill their big choices to come might not come from free will. To make big hard pictures bright, and to make them dark too, she could tell, required a Biblical hand date. And when it fell upon her boys what they'd used in wasted earth, she could see, her read aloud voice had more power than God’s mandate.
Two boys tittered one laughed, and the latter drew wrath, the entire class silenced in big sister’s eyes blazing bath. A red monster appeared when she warned of God’s hatred, in this wasting of our most precious features; then drew a dark picture, dying, gasping spilt fishes, mud lost to the building of filthier creatures.
Functioning
Two in the afternoon
And she’s drunk already
Over emotional and irrational
Irritating the way people always are
When you’re the sober one
Tugging at my shirt sleeve
And my heart strings
Those big sad eyes
She spills her guts
And her emotions
Over white porcelain
Every morning
Every night
Lost at sea
Swimming for the shore
She says: I’m trying to cope
She says: This is self-help
But all I see is drowning.
Ya'll are all so good. I re read some of my postings and think cadence is my issue. I'm trying to go by all the craft rules, but Ned to work on the sound of the sentences. Does that make sense? Poetry is what it is all about.
Did I derail the popular prompt thread or is nobody online over the weekend?
Permanence is so gauche.