Someone write...

Nast

Somebody needs to write something thought provoking.
Someone needs to write something not about themselves.
Someone needs to write something not about someone else.
Someone needs to write something amazing.
Something inspiring.
Something that makes this entire board go "whoa".
Cause it's been a while.
And I'm not feeling inspired.
So I won't be the one to pull it off.
Someone write...

I need to find somebody write!

Ms. Haiku

Nast wrote:

Somebody needs to write something thought provoking.
Someone needs to write something not about themselves.
Someone needs to write something not about someone else.
Someone needs to write something amazing.
Something inspiring.
Something that makes this entire board go "whoa".
Cause it's been a while.
And I'm not feeling inspired.
So I won't be the one to pull it off.
Someone write...

I need to find somebody write!

You just described haiku.

FinsburyParkCarrots

Nah, read a good book.

Nast

I don't get haiku...
Sorry.

I can read them, perhaps I'm reading them wrong. They all have their own message sure.

But it doesn't feel like it's enough.

Even if I were to post on it...

I'd feel mine wouldn't make sense as I haven't read all 100 haiku pages to know what it's all really about....

La Di Da...

I miss all the spanking that used to go on.

Nast

Can anyone here write a poem thats fiction?

A poem that doesn't portray a message.

I wanna see it done.

Felicity

Nast wrote:

Somebody needs to write something thought provoking.
Someone needs to write something not about themselves.
Someone needs to write something not about someone else.
Someone needs to write something amazing.
Something inspiring.
Something that makes this entire board go "whoa".
Cause it's been a while.
And I'm not feeling inspired.
So I won't be the one to pull it off.
Someone write...

I need to find somebody write!

pretty high expectations,i'd say.i'd be up for the challenge but i don't know if i'm that brilliant and would not want to embarrass myself in front of everybody.

that's probably my biggest fear.

Nast

Well get over it, I've used your work as inspiration a lot and felt I've grown myself just listening to everything here that everyone has wrote. I know poetry is expression of self. I'm just more amazed when it's not.

Kwyjibo

I think you need to separate the authors of poems from whomever is the narrator. I write a lot of fictional poems:

---
Walking on the pavement in the summer heat.
Young and barefoot with yellow calloused feet.
When I come upon a mass of black feathers,
picking apart some child’s favorite pet kitty.

My eyes fill with hate for the corvine cowards.
I am ready to chase them from their feasting circle.
I envision a charge and a triumphant victory shout,
but something holds my skin to the sizzling pavement.

Even as evil black beasts, they feel the power of hunger;
even as they pluck out the bits of remaining fur and collar.
I decide they are an anomaly in the cycle of life–
but they are still part of it, and so they deserve their share.

But I can’t remove the image from my youthful mind,
of a tiny child when he finds his mangled kitten,
and the tears in his eyes as his mother tries to describe
the way things happen, when a little kitty dies.

So I run at the wicked black birds. They mostly scatter.
One of their baby black birds will feel the power of hunger.
----

I'm still and quiet.
No one can see me.
I fade into shadow.
The tireless foe is licking
his chops with greed and haste
as I skip across the pool's shimmer.

Sight right upon me.
I can sense its presence.
A shudder shoots up my spine.
My knees buckle
when the bullet hits my leg,
and I fall in the chocolate mud.

Snowflakes fall on my desperate lips.
My tongue flicks out, just one last time.
It runs on up to wet my nose–my last taste.
The white powder I loved so much.
The sick indulgence I always knew
would blow up in my face.
---

I don't know, even the love/despair poems I post generally are pretty fictionalized. Just because a poem is in the 1st person doesn't mean the author is the narrator

Nast

Yes, but even though I use it myself, I hate the word "I"... as many poets use it, feel that it takes a lot away.

-Nast

FinsburyParkCarrots

Good poem, Kwyjibo.

Nast

I want surreal. Landscape and lust.

DopeBeastie

whitecaps rise to meet the prow
settled this morning off the bluffs
white sands fell to meet the sea

where were these skies packed away?

amongst the seashells and wax dripped from a one-night standing candle
the broken mask and rippled satin exposed my eyes for what they were:
racing jewels set afire by a sunrise never seen

where were the keepers of grass's green?

settled prow now unsettled by dolphin's wake
a sea dreamer nettled,
taunted by ancient laughter
felled by siren's luck
kneeling on tar-stuck mahogany and a cotton flax: denim tweed

there were pelicans at play and sharks targeted
sails flown by the southerly gale
a night alone entrances and holds me shy
I cannot look
I cannot return her gaze
so worthy of secrets,
am I,
So shy as to whisper the sun's many names;
Fingertips dragging ripples to a shore
Quiet and saturated by wine and more and more and more

The dolphins have taken their scattered, spritely play elsewhere
And the sharks have tasted better mix

Settled brow by a kiss
So worthy of secrets to miss the lips and come to this
Skin bronzed and a woven bliss of cotton flax and satin sheen:
In my mind a sunrise seen:

Hills of wheat, hours of lust,
A farmhouse, a castle, and a moon...
a cyclone for my bed, a room's seaward view.
These sailing days and our nights of dripp'd wax,
splinters of stain'd wood upon my feet,
Half metal, a stolen throw, discreetly stated needs must
Invisibly share the rippled stone:

a broken chalice once filled with hooded wine,
a king, a queen, and two thrones,
a settled bowsprit of racing jewels aglow with
a wandering sight my eyes have never seen:
a dragon upon the sea, her shined silver iris upon me,
I bow low, humbled, loved, grown,
my tears mixed with salted tea
an ocean's nymph has flown.




lust and landscape for everyone, right?

FinsburyParkCarrots

Nah, I'll stick with a book.

Nast

Both of those are good poems, and inspiring. I haven't read a book since... The English Patient in 1998... and it sucked.
I have "patience" but I don't have "time."

So poetry has become a love.

Nast

Can one be disguised as an artist with tricks of the pen?

DopeBeastie

ever read Plath's Epitaph to Flame and Flower?


check it

it's reallllly good stuff

Nast

Yes, perfect example.
-Nasty

Nast

Btw, I don't mean to insult anyone. I am not saying any of your art isn't great. I'm more perturbed at myself for not feeling inspired lately and not writing more myself. This is a challenge for you all as well as me.

-Nasty

FinsburyParkCarrots

Maybe you could find a creative writing group and join it, if you have the time. They're often much better anything on the Internet for inspiring you and giving you interraction with other writers.

FinsburyParkCarrots

FinsburyParkCarrots wrote:

Maybe you could find a creative writing group and join it, if you have the time. They're often much better anything on the Internet for inspiring you and giving you interraction with other writers.

I should say, "better than anything".

FinsburyParkCarrots

FinsburyParkCarrots wrote:

I should say, "better than anything".

And "interaction." I must be tired. Time to sign off for the night.