Bare Bones Poem - Collaborative Poetry

Part V

Be a magician, arch your wand.
Let doors quickly open
around your feet and head.
At the end of your show,
bow deep, then savor,
letting silence, gasps, cheers, and applause
mingle like unholy ancient chants
of a sacrifice
before you dissapear into smoke
like a starman sent from the sky
getting breath from the anticipation
(or a collective scream).

In this ReadWritePoem Prompt #41, we posted a poem of ours missing most the nouns and verbs. Then we chose the "stripped down" poem of another poet, and filled in the words. Here is the bare-bones poem I had to work with posted by A~Lotus:

Part v.
Be a _____, arch your _____.
Let _____ quickly _____
around your _____ and _____
at the _____ of your _____.
_____ deep, then _____,
letting _____, _____, _____, and _____
mingle like _____ _____ _____
of a _____
before you _____ into _____
like a _____ _____ from the sky
and getting _____ by the _____
(or a _____ _____).

(This poem with all its original words may be found HERE.)


I orginally chose another longer poem, because I simply liked the shape. But I was stumbling a bit and not really having fun, so I chose this one, of which I immediately liked the tone. I ran right through it, filling in the words like I was reciting something learned. I only changed a couple small words in the 2nd to last line and the punctuation in one other line. It was easy (and fun)--until the end line.
Obviously, this line should somehow turn the poem around, but I couldn't do it. It is frustrating me. However, I really like the picture it paints.

Here is my original poem I posted as a bare bones model for others to choose:

I am not connected with nature
The trees don’t sing to me
The winds deny the pleasure
Of coming around to me
I have felt the sun on my face
But it has not set me free
I am not connected to nature
And she’ll have nothing to do with me.

It's a silly lil thing, but I was actually very desperate when I wrote it. It is simple and boring, because I just didn't care; I was so apathetic with my life at that moment. I would love to see it improved by another.

Well, I am off to read the REAL Part V.
Also, I want to thank Dana at ReadWritePoem for a surprising exercise and A~Lotus for a great model to play with!!


Technical Difficulties

Sorry for the absense. My internet has been sketchy at best. But as the problem does not seem to have an end in sight, I will try to catch up with all of you between getting thrown off, frozen up, and going depressingly slow.


Sibling Rivalry

Word on the street is
Abraham is your daddy too
but that doesn’t mean much to you
snarling and smashing
crashing and quick
with the tongue and fist.
That shit list of yours
is set in stone
and when you’re done
I’ll prop it on your grave
to remind us to save
some prayers for those
drug down with you
on fast-forward to the last scene
no time for plot or meaning
eyes fixed on the screen
for a climax.
And when the curtain falls
it brings an axe.
And you drug us all
down with you.

(ReadWritePoem Prompt #39)


Watchful Fruit

The other night, I cut a piece off of an avacado. Then I started fiddling about the kitchen. When I turned around, here was this scary eye looking up at me!
I don't know what made it red, but it made an excellent guacamole all the same.


Poetry Prompts

Happy Global Poetry Prompt Appreciation Day!

Take Part!

I love prompts. I don't think my best stuff comes from prompts, as usually I am rushing to meet the deadline, but they are very useful. I have learned new poetry forms and processes. They also give me a reason to write a lil more often and a lil more regularly. Yes, I am one of those people who needs a reason.

However, the best thing about prompts is reading other poet's work with the same prompt that I have been working with. I love to see the different ways people interpret one drawing or even one word! The poetry prompts that give you a handful of words to include are especially fun. It is like rune reading. One person takes the words, shakes them up, lays them out, and sees certain thoughts, emotions, and circumstances appear. Then I take them, and toss them out into a totally different story.

I see prompts as exercises for the poetic muscles, which need to stretch different ways to truly be healthy and strong. It is impossible for one person to come up with every which way on their own.