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Sunday, November 12, 2017

Group Poem

“O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here – that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be? Walt Whitman

I want to try something different and see if we can write a group poem each adding our own verse. What will your verse be?

Everyone write their verse and at the end of the week I will put them all together as one poem… I’ve done this at open mic’s and it’s fun and produces some interesting poems. When you post your verse DO NOT read the other verses before or after yours. We can make comments when the poem is posted in completion. I will credit each verse to the person who wrote it. I will wait and post my verse after at least one other verse has been posted.

38 comments :

  1. Is "That the powerful play goes on" the actual prompt we are supposed to address in our verse?

    And I have to post this poem, as it's one of my favorite poems ever, and as soon I read the prompt, I thought of a particular line it. I would bet you can figure out which one. And of course it's not a verse for our group poem.

    Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day
    by: Nikki Giovanni

    Don’t look now
    I’m fading away
    Into the gray of my mornings
    Or the blues of every night

    Is it that my nails
    keep breaking
    Or maybe the corn
    on my second little piggy
    Things keep popping out
    on my face
    or
    of my life

    It seems no matter how
    I try I become more difficult
    to hold
    I am not an easy woman
    to want

    They have asked
    the psychiatrists psychologists politicians and
    social workers
    What this decade will be
    known for
    There is no doubt it is
    loneliness

    If loneliness were a grape
    the wine would be vintage
    If it were a wood
    the furniture would be mahogany
    But since it is life it is
    Cotton Candy
    on a rainy day
    The sweet soft essence
    of possibility
    Never quite maturing

    I have prided myself
    On being in that great tradition
    albeit circus
    That the show must go on
    Though in my community the vernacular is
    One Monkey Don’t Stop the Show

    We all line up
    at some midway point
    To thread our way through
    the boredom and futility
    Looking for the blue ribbon and gold medal

    Mostly these are seen as food labels

    We are consumed by people who sing
    the same old song STAY:
    as sweet as you are
    in my corner

    Or perhaps just a little bit longer
    But whatever you do don’t change baby baby don’t change
    Something needs to change

    Everything some say will change
    I need a change
    of pace face attitude and life
    Though I long for my loneliness
    I know I need something
    Or someone.
    Or…..

    I strangle my words as easily as I do my tears
    I stifle my screams as frequently as I flash my smile
    it means nothing
    I am cotton candy on a rainy day
    the unrealized dream of an idea unborn

    I share with the painters the desire
    To put a three-dimensional picture
    On a one-dimensional surface

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Damn, all the formatting went away, but you get the idea.

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    2. Very interesting poem, with many thought provoking images.

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  2. I was never the storm as I desired to be
    Walking down the lonely road, I searched for the stars
    To illuminate the path dwindling in the fog
    Reminiscent of the past that I left trailing behind.

    Luminescent fireflies came to my aid
    Blinking and burping with their bulging backs
    Their hips and the hops on their humping self
    Glowed in the dark, like lightning stealing elf

    I have searched for that elf, in my dreams often, I guess
    I came, all naked, teased me for a bit
    With a grin and a wink, and left.

    I wish I was a goblin, smart and sweet
    With a brain all cunning, with a mind of a thief
    To trick the foolish elf to give me the lightning bolt
    Which would act as my torch as I shall tread alone.

    The forest of the black, is the place I dread the most
    Full of noise without faces, twitching on my toes
    The road in that jungle, never seems to end
    I remember quite well,
    It was Gulliver who was the first to get lost at it's bay.

    Anyways, back to what I was saying, about the forest of the Black
    Folks says, it was where the meteor stuck from the sky
    And at the center of the darkness, glows the buried star
    Drawing lost travelers, to be burnt, to be charred.

    I wish I had the lightning stolen from the elf
    I wish I was not a ragged pauper, but a handsome charming prince
    But alas, with my stick and few loaves of bread
    I must make this quest to the place where horizon rests.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Interesting tale you have woven here. I expect you might enjoy your quest, regardless where it leads you.

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    2. nice to see you back. intriguing poem. this challenge is for one verse from each poet that I will compile into a single poem at the end of the week. I will use the first verse of this one unless you want to do another that is a single verse.

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  3. The rhythm of my life and its rhyme
    coalesce to make the ever changing,
    ever evolving verses that are my self,
    and the song of my self, of my being,
    and the poem that is at its core.
    I weave my harmony into the whole
    as I express, sing, perform, compose
    my part in the chorus, the hymn, the opera
    the symphony that is all of life.

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  4. Here is my contribution to the group poem. I am assuming you wanted a verse, not several? I look forward to seeing the poem when it is done. Interesting exercise. It reminds me of that game we used to play as kids, where you draw part of a person and fold the paper and pass it around. Remember? Then at the end you unfold the paper and see the funny person that results. I expect the poem will be interesting and fun to put together.

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    Replies
    1. yes thank you...one verse and in the end they will beome one poem

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  5. was it only yesterday
    that I turned five years old
    and will it be tomorrow
    that I will turn fifteen
    budding like a tree in Spring
    has Winter crept upon me
    quickly, so silently speedy
    that I never noticed the
    strands of silver
    and the leaves falling
    leaving naked memories
    in drifted snow...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This is just beautiful, Linda, I am in awe!

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    2. yep. it was only yesterday wolfie. time is just something we made up, to stop us going mad.

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  6. The universe while large is small
    we are all one individually in need
    of each other’s differences to exist
    In harmony and understanding.

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    Replies
    1. SO TRUE!!! Nicely said, friend.

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    2. " we are star stuff contemplating star light " carl sagan.

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  7. one verse huh? here is one i wrote yesterday.

    very good an honouring the dead in this country
    pity we don't honour the living
    the dead don't need their bellies filling
    if only the living could be free.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Truth is in these words,as you say. And, do you mean at rather than an, by chance?

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    2. oops! i meant at. thanks tash. think i need some new glasses.

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  8. My messages are not my own,
    seem to be made of trite proverbs.
    If at first you don't succeed, try,
    try again. Don't count your chickens
    before they hatch. Enjoy life.
    This is not a dress rehearsal.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. All familiar, yet when you put them together, they sound new.

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    2. my chicks can always count on me. trouble is, i can't count on them ha ha - love and peace - paul.

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  9. Out of makeup, halfway
    between costume and
    street clothes, too thin
    for real world chill wind,
    maybe I'll make it home, or stop
    at Uncle Willie's for a boilermaker.
    Either way, I'll sleep soundly.
    Or such is my plan.

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    Replies
    1. How existential is this! You know how to do it, yes you do.

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  10. Winters been so long and cold
    my heart is longing for Spring
    the cold is making my bones hurt
    the warmth of Spring is a wonderful thing

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  11. People cross a line good or bad
    it's a choice which line you
    will cross. The people you think
    that will cross the good cross
    the bad. we are taught not to
    judge so watch where your
    feet are and don't cross
    if you don't want to don't
    make a mistake.

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  12. sssshhhh everybody. bonita said we aren't allowed to comment or read each others poems till she puts iy all together, though i may cheat and slip a couple of comments in. don't tell bonnie ha ha - love and peace - paul

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  13. if i could be presumptuous. but i've got another verse, if nobody minds.

    i had a bad dream. it lasted eleven years eight months and five days
    when i first wrote poetry i was in a daze
    wandering around in an unleavable maze.

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    Replies
    1. hhmmmm a few double meanings in there breanne. very clever. like the multiple use of the word cross in different contexts - love and peace - paul.

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  14. Looks like everyone has given us a verse. I have arranged them into a completed poem and am going to post it now to give everyone time to comment on it and to let us know how they would have arranged the verses. I am going in for a surgical biopsy Friday so that will not be a good day (obviously) as I am told I will be there for several hours and saturday I will be sore under my arm where they are taking the lymph node. So let's have some fun with this poem and comment away. Poem in a separate comment box.

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  15. The Poem

    The rhythm of my life and its rhyme
    coalesce to make the ever changing,
    ever evolving verses that are myself,
    and the song of myself, of my being,
    and the poem that is at its core.
    I weave my harmony into the whole
    as I express, sing, perform, compose
    my part in the chorus, the hymn, the opera
    the symphony that is all of life. (Tasha)

    was it only yesterday
    that I turned five years old
    and will it be tomorrow
    that I will turn fifteen
    budding like a tree in Spring
    has Winter crept upon me

    quickly, so silently speedy
    that I never noticed the
    strands of silver
    and the leaves falling
    leaving naked memories
    in drifted snow… (Linda)

    Winters been so long and cold
    my heart is longing for Spring
    the cold is making my bones hurt
    the warmth of Spring is a wonderful thing (Paul B)

    Out of makeup, halfway
    between costume and
    street clothes, too thin
    for real world chill wind,
    maybe I'll make it home, or stop
    at Uncle Willie's for a boilermaker.
    Either way, I'll sleep soundly.
    Or such is my plan. (Tad)

    My messages are not my own,
    seem to be made of trite proverbs.
    If at first you don't succeed, try,
    try again. Don't count your chickens
    before they hatch. Enjoy life.
    This is not a dress rehearsal. (Victoria)

    I was never the storm as I desired to be
    Walking down the lonely road, I searched for the stars
    To illuminate the path dwindling in the fog
    Reminiscent of the past that I left trailing behind. (Anindya)

    The universe while large is small
    we are all one individually in need
    of each other’s differences to exist
    In harmony and understanding. (Bonnie)

    People cross a line good or bad
    it's a choice which line you
    will cross. The people you think
    that will cross the good cross
    the bad. we are taught not to
    judge so watch where your
    feet are and don't cross
    if you don't want to don't
    make a mistake.

    (We are) very good an honouring the dead in this country
    pity we don't honour the living
    the dead don't need their bellies filling
    if only the living could be free. (Paul F)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Wow I am very impressed that it fell together so nicely with your help of course, Bonnie. Such fun!!!

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    2. I forgot to credit Breanne with the second to the last vere... People cross a line good or bad.. I'm sorry Breanne!!!!

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    3. think we all did really well on this one. being restricted to one verse, helps me stop getting all melodramatic. hmmmm that could be a future promt " a poem no longer than six lines "? well done everyone. good luck in the hospital bonita. don't let them quacks give you any bullshit - love and peace - paul.

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    4. This certainly went together better than I thought it would. Nice job!

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  16. Great Job!!! I am impressed both by the good way you put it all together and by the way our poets all seemed to coalesce into a group. My fond appreciation!

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  17. Thank you all for doing this with me. I do think it worked well and shows how random verses can become a complete poem. each verse complementing the next.

    ReplyDelete