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Poetry Collaboration Thread

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posted on Nov, 26 2005 @ 10:12 PM
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The idea, cooked up by myself and encouraged by nikelbee is this;

-write a poem in response to the one posted before
-write it any way you want, rhyme or rap or scat
-try to push the theme in another direction

Here's the first...

Novice Hardball (8 yrs old)

Is it just me
out in left field?
All on me?
Out here standing in left field?
Should I reach deep inside?
Find myself?
Out here?
In freaking left field?

Who hit that ball!
To little old me...?

frozen time
suspended
the ball arcing in a cobalt sky
blotting out the sun
the leather skinned missile
sheathed in a blazing corunna

smelling the grass
the glove
tasting the salt
on my upper lip
with my swollen tongue
squinting through eyelids
burning with sweat

stumbling sideways
falling forwards
lolling tongue
gagging breath
tripping feet
gaining momentum

running on instinct
raising the glove
shielding my face
the stab of pain on my thumb
quickly cradled
in sudden agony
as knees hit the ground
as ears open
as reality floods in
to my stupified brain
finding the ball safe inside-
my glove!?!

Out in left field
Outstanding in left field!

.




posted on Nov, 28 2005 @ 09:45 AM
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Oh goody! I'll play!


What's For Dinner?

dirt streaked
tear stained
sorrow-laden
lump of melted pride

shield down
armor off
defense at ease
eating humble pie

weak sting
flaccid slap
dull head throb
no surprise in this

pride swallowed
craw cleared
face saved
only to eat crow

...again

...another day




I must admit, I liked yours better, Masqua!



posted on Nov, 28 2005 @ 10:52 AM
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Eat Crow, Eat Snow, Eat Hay
Just Eat it all, I say
Open your mouths
and shovel it in
Heaps and mounds of edibles may
fill your bellies or cause dismay
never the less, you spoon it in
Salivating, chewing, yet barely tasting
Never savoring or enjoying
Buffets overflow with your wasting
Greedy eyes and mindless eating
A society in need of dieting
Pay no attention to what I say
Just eat it all, eat crow, eat snow, eat hay

(untitled and inspired by the two poems above)



posted on Nov, 28 2005 @ 10:53 AM
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Upon the headlands of the shore,
does the sea not lay down her love
with heavy poundings, pulse and roar?

I see her face, amid the wild windblown foam,
smiling in the setting sun, wet limbs flashing,
a mass of golden hair flying in a milky froth.

And where her foot touches dry sands,
flowers bloom, garlands rise in joy
to clothe her form, and the earth is reborn.

Natures bride spreads her sweet force divine,
rising to the evening hush, upon this sere world
to spread wide her fertile abundance and bounty.

White Goddess, your soft feminine light
does nourish the seeds with a damp heat.
Gift of the sea, my irresistable, desirable Venus.

.

Hope you enjoy the counterpoint, Queenannie38



posted on Nov, 28 2005 @ 11:41 AM
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Amid the jangle of the teeming turmoil,
From the midnight depths of ocean gardens…
…To heights that duality cannot spoil...
I watch as night falls and darkness hardens
The softness cast by shadow’s pewter glow.

My desire to fly sends invocation
To the ethereal lunatic Queen.
Ignitable in my supplication,
I cut my tepid bond with earthly scene,
Leaving man and his troubles far below.



*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*


Awesome counterpoint, Masqua~
wanna dance?



posted on Nov, 28 2005 @ 11:44 AM
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Worldwatcher--that's a remarkable little ditty--so lovely and fun to read out loud--



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 01:24 PM
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Dance with me, humble pie.
The crows are playing spoons in pines,
rattling out such needled rhythms-
croaking out wan ghosts of words-
to a crackling hot electric beat.

There's a keening in the wind;
faint, but can you not hear it?
Far in the distant dark forests
a buzzing nikelbee there hones her skill,
speaking in the bardic tongues of trees.

And weatherweary worldwatcher...
what, oh, what have you seen?
Rain sodden winds lashing oaks?
Do ghosts of fallen giants scratch
the windows of your memory?



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 02:00 PM
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Ah, windows of my former dances!
Pull back the shade and look within,
Fifty years of avoided chances
To come to terms with life and sin.

Bilious taste of long-gone pie,
Who cares if it is peach or humble?
Deserted deserts of dessert gone by,
Another step, another stumble.

I cannot hear the spoon or crow.
I cannot feel the oak-borne gale
Missing sin and life. You know
If you don’t try, you can’t but fail.



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 02:13 PM
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awesome input, OTS...you rock.
It's gonna be fun to see whut these here youngens come back with, eh?

lol...you're right...I'll take peach, humble or bumbleberry, as long as a slice is set on my place at table. Us old f*rts can't be too choosy.



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 02:35 PM
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Dance of the masquarade
of dark eyes not revealed
of mystery smiles and
Gallant gents who carry
potent words like snuff in their pockets

A poet dances with us tonight
brocade bows and turn of phrase
dazzling imagery behind the fingers
dipped in incognito
and golden stardust

It is like time stands still
mythology his creation
Venus and Hypatia; Goddesses
flowing like soft white curtains
across the ballroom of our imaginations

We grow enchanted until the witching hour
when Wordsmith dismantles his phrases
packs up his words
the glitter swept b'neath the rugs
and we return to pumpkins


[edit on 1-12-2005 by nikelbee]



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 03:01 PM
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Stumble 'cross the pumpkin patch
shaking fists at lunar sky.
I will not taste your pasty mash,
I cannot eat that humble pie!

Dance with partners fancy fixt,
with doughey eyes and hidden cheeks.
I'll stay planted right here twixt
the rummy punch and candied leeks.

The whispers passt by windy voice
will tempt you with a fine spun thread.
But is there really any choice?
The yams are dry and stale's the bread.


[edit on 30-11-2005 by informatu]



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 03:01 PM
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Pumpkin-pregnant, just into her teens
Cursed by her father as a common whore
Not even sure what the activity means
Hoping that someone will come through the door.

The labor room RN with artificial smile
Swift moving hands as she measures dilation
Don’t worry, honey, they’ll be here in a while.”
Then fills out report in the nurse’s station.

If only she’d listened when they’d talked about sex!
In the seventh-grade health class she had in the fall.
But that one night’s fumbling, its swelling effects
And he never called back, and there’s no one to call.

The pains are much quicker now, waves up her spine,
She opens the window, looks out on the street
Just seven floors earthward! In a final curved line
Her life traces downward in her final retreat.

[edit on 30-11-2005 by Off_The_Street]



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 07:35 PM
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Take life as it comes, no more and no less
Just persevere and avoid the distress
Life is so precious and far too brief
To focus on the bad and drown in your grief
A smile may not seem the easy way out
But damn sure works better than wearing a pout
If you hide from the light all things are dim
You will not see good if your outlook is grim
I wish I could give you a small piece of me
To ignite your hope and set your heart free
Keep your mind busy and your attitude light
Then soon you will find life again right
These things I hold as the truest of true
To rescue me from the darkest of blue.



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 08:17 PM
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For often I have failed
To get my ship to set a sail
Rotting deck and hollow rails
Too much water for me to bail

These lines that once held her fast
Have long since become her past
Her sails now tattered and torn
Never to feel the winds blown scorn

Once accompanied by the singing loon
Now strangled into a crowing tune
As the waves danced upon the sea
Smashed upon the cliffs violently

So I sit on the rotting deck
Drunk with sorrow of this ship I wrecked
Never to weather another storm
Never to set sail, to sail back home.



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 08:22 PM
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All I need is a piece of you;
Something soft and fleshy
on which to chew.

Preferably, it should be small,
like a niblet, a giblet,
a round little ball.

You could scoop it out with a melon baller,
and drop it in my outstretched palm,

What's that dear? Oh please don't holler,
Please, sweet love, just remain calm!



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 08:33 PM
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Scrub the deck and climb the mast
settle not for winters past

Spoke the wheel and wright the cart
spring is waiting for your heart

Plow the field and plant once more
forget about the summer's whore

Fix the wire, and fence the hen
fall for love, yet again



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 08:58 PM
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Fall in love time and time again
For love is the only wealth we can really gain
Money will come and go
Offering comfort but just for show
However true love will always flow
Allowing us to grow more and more
Opening both our hearts and minds
Leading to a better mankind
Love today, love tomorrow
Love a friend or your lover
Love your sister and your brother
Hold on them and never waver
For love is our only savior


(I sound like a freaking greeting card
oh well )



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 09:24 PM
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Tossed upon this heaving sea,
dreary and lovesick men are we,
daring to taste fruit of the tree
will surely be the death of me.

To a thousand nights of wanton bliss
I fondly wish to you could all relate
counting softly by the serpents hiss
a thousand seeds in a pomegranate.

For golden comfort on cold lonely nights
when ladies hearken to waylay slumber
by craft design woo bold brave knights
to rocky shoals and smashing lumber.



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 09:38 PM
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A sailor I must once have been
My life spent tossed upon the sea
At ease amidst the rowdy din
Toil, sweat, and a heart set free

Intoxicating briny air
Mist lacing each breezy caress
All my senses fully aware
Of a time sweet, blue, and endless



posted on Nov, 30 2005 @ 09:39 PM
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For it was not love my young friend
It was the lust of many sweet fruit
and calls to young mens hearts
that wrecked this ship upon the sand.

Pride was my flag
an immortal shroud that hung from my shoulders.
Keeping me above friend and foe
not unlike a wall of boulders

Arrogance was my sight
and I had eyes like the hawk
No challenge could stare me down
I could not turn away and walk

Power was my Stallion
always seeming to be within my grasp
I tried to catch him time and time again
and each time i tried he was to fast.

I had 100 men at arms
Their women screamed and thier children cried
as I pulled them from their farms
and went racing across the horizon.

They followed me to the end of the earth
and none would be able to return.
For I never measured what life was really worth
and they paid my debts for it.

I sit her, now, upon a little hill
overlooking the battlefield I lost
Everything was deathly still
their bodies covered by winters frost

If only I had tasted that humble pie
Instead of dancing with death that day
So many of my friends need not have died
their women happy watching their children play



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