| User | Oli | | Topic | Make a poem | | Message | Fall
Peal
Brown
Call
Loud
Solitude
Bright
Sorrow
Dog
Softly
Tomorrow
carbon
somewhere
sky
green
cold
creep
lose
sweet
sour
huge
far
joyous
Try to creat a poem using these words. You can use other words as well but try to use all these in your poem. It doesn’t have to rhym or make sense. Just have fun with it. I wish you luck. Be creative.
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| User | whendt | 2005-08-19 | | | Subject | Patsy Cline Drunk | | Message | I fall to peaces each time I turn brown, then I call out loud but I`m left in solitude.
I fall to peaces ....I go out walking after midnight and its so bright in the moon light,then I go home full of sarrow and people think I`m crazy, crazy for feeling this blue and crazy for loving you and I`m crazy as a dog . Softly I fade into sweet dreams and tomarow will fade into carbon and I go out walking somewhere and the sky turns green and I `m crazy for this creep and cold and so lonely for this sweet and sour pork. I pour out walking after midnight then I lose my huge far away but.
thank you folks and have a joyous christmas and a happy July 4th... |
| User | Rokhal | 2005-08-14 | | | Subject | untitled | | Message | Clangor-a Clangor-a Clangor-a Clunk.
Pleals bleak, bright and dauntless
Cold hands, carbon-black and bitter,
And a bucket of wrenches, batteries with no sour taste left in the plugs,
A call, no, a scat to the creep of the terrier dog,
For the sweet green god on the jacks
All for you, who wait in your solitude
As we, in our sorrow for money, paw in the rag-box
Drop hands to a glinting young eye in the street
Till behind us loud skrunts some expensive disaster
And we, we errants in grease, grind, and willful genius
Hail the far throom of our huge, joyous somewhere-tomorrow,
Gray sky, skurry leaves, blue paper Tahiti. |
| User | WolfStar | 2005-08-12 | | | Subject | untitled | | Message | Ignore that last one. I forgot "sorrow".
Somewhere far away
people are dancing
beneath the full, bright moon
joyous as they move under the huge summer sky,
feet crunching on the sweet green grass,
hands dusted in soft brown earth,
as they celebrate love in all its glory.
And yet I am alone,
in this quiet place of solitude,
straining to hear the call
of the love I expect to hear
softly padding down the cold, empty street
like a lost dog seeking a home within me.
What is it about carbon-copy love?
Is an imitation of bliss
enough to sustain the life in us,
to fill the hollowness in me?
Why is it that as we hear the imaginary peal
of wedding bells loud in our hearts,
we fall inexorably down
spiraling away from life
as we lose all sense of time and memory
through a huge hole of sorrow
and sour regret?
I watch the hours creep
passing me by as I wish for tomorrow
for the burning sun to reduce my empty husk
to ashes,
not wanting to think,
not wanting to feel,
only wishing for the searing truth
of daylight.
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| User | WolfStar | 2005-08-12 | | | Subject | untitled | | Message | Somewhere far away
people are dancing
beneath the full, bright moon
joyous as they move under the huge summer sky,
feet crunching on the sweet green grass,
hands dusted in soft brown earth,
as they celebrate love in all its glory.
And yet I am alone,
in this quiet place of solitude,
straining to hear the call
of the love I expect to hear
softly padding down the cold, empty street
like a lost dog seeking a home within me.
What is it about carbon-copy love?
Is an imitation of bliss
enough to sustain the life in us,
to fill the hollowness in me?
Why is it that as we hear the imaginary peal
of wedding bells loud in our hearts,
we fall inexorably down
spiraling away from life
as we lose all sense of time and memory
through a huge hole of broken hearts
and sour regret?
I watch the hours creep
passing me by as I wish for tomorrow
for the burning sun to reduce my empty husk
to ashes,
not wanting to think,
not wanting to feel,
only wishing for the searing truth
of daylight. |
| User | Oli | 2005-08-11 | | | Subject | untitled | | Message | Wow. Nice job chrls. Very great use of the words. you painted a really pretty and yet sad and nastalgic picture. Great job.
--Caitlin (Oli) |
| User | chrls | 2005-08-10 | | | Subject | The Church Bell | | Message | Leaves fall to the ground
I hear the peal of the
the old brown church bell
I hear it call with it’s loud, broken clang
and I can feel its solitude
I have sorrow for the times it rang
and no one was there to hear
A dog walks softly by and listens
Will the bell call again tomorrow
Suddenly the carbon black sky
forces my thoughts to somewhere far away
where huge, green, sweet and sour fruits grow
Then a cold creep ascends my spine
and I lose the joyous day dream
to the clanging of the old brown church bell
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