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Original fic: Poetry



So, for this month's original fic post, since clearly I have not had time to write any more in any of the fics that some of you so very kindly prompted me for a couple of months back (I shall keep those prompts for future reference though, so thank you!), I have decided to ask about poetry!

Who amongst you writes original poetry, and would you share some with us? What are your favourite kinds/poems, and how easy do you find them to write (if it's something you do)?

Personally, I am into haiku and limericks, and love to pop those out whenever something springs to mind. I think I like that they both - while very different - have short and often snappy little bursts of things to say, and as they have a definite pattern, you have to make them work right or they don't work at all. The limit of them satisfies me; if left to a more free-form poem, I'm as likely to never make my point or find an end!

I don't have any handy to share with you right now, but I'd love to see some of yours, and/or give me a one or two word prompt and suggest either haiku or limerick and I will try to come up with one for you as quickly as I can! It will add a little to my word count, and stretch my brain a little too, since it's been a while for me. ;-)

And if you've never really written any poetry before but want to, now's good! Ask me for a prompt (or steal something someone leaves for me)!

Comments

( 12 comments — Leave a comment )
chesneycat
Nov. 10th, 2014 01:50 pm (UTC)
*raises hand*

I wrote a couple of pieces in the last week - a random happy haiku [coffee in the sun / falling leaves snatched from the sky / lifting autumn luck ] and a longer piece for an exchange. Sometimes I stick to a definite structure, and sometimes I opt for something more free-form, but it really depends on my mood.

But I don't edit them as well as I should. Here's one from August that seemed to work quite well at the time but I'm having doubts over now.

Fever Birds

These are the Fever Birds come to roost:
drawn down through glass, amorphous and artless,
forced cries of colour on cellulose sclerae.
And they come, and they come,
shunning the decoupaged catalogue-gardens
to be shaped and stippled, field-guide posed
in the details of beak, of claws and one blind eye.
Graphite and wax scrape suggestions of feathers:
a meniscus of shading that hides their fury
while wood-skirted dancers scatter and crumble.
These are the Fever Birds come to roost.
The colours have flown and my fingers are raw.


I don't really know what to make of it now. Something about the rhythm seems just too regular, like it wants some pauses and room to breathe, or more length to be stifling and achey inside.

Anyway.

Prompts!

Yes please?

Edited at 2014-11-10 01:50 pm (UTC)
asphaltcowgrrl
Nov. 10th, 2014 06:32 pm (UTC)
It might be a bit too regular as far as the rhythm goes, but I still like it. Gave me a bit of a Poe-esque feel (probably the birds themselves). Nice work. :)
haldoor
Nov. 14th, 2014 08:44 am (UTC)
I love your poem! I think it works extremely well, although don't ask me to analyse why that is. It's one thing I'm not so good at! I like the haiku too.

Prompt: a spring in your step.

Edited at 2014-11-14 08:45 am (UTC)
asphaltcowgrrl
Nov. 10th, 2014 06:34 pm (UTC)
I don't normally write poetry unless it's for a challenge, or back in high school for either English or a creative writing class. I've never been very good with it.

A few years ago, I did discover cinquains, which I found I liked. Here is one I wrote in January 2007:

Raindrops
Refreshing, peaceful
Sprinkles, pours, spits
Never enough desert springtime
Showers
haldoor
Nov. 14th, 2014 08:59 am (UTC)
Oooh, that sounds like an interesting style of poem - what are the rules? I would look it up, but I have so many things to do this month! I like your one, anyway, so don't tell me you're not very good! ;-)
asphaltcowgrrl
Nov. 14th, 2014 04:24 pm (UTC)
They're challenging, but fun!

Cinquain poems have the following pattern:
Line 1 2 syllables
Line 2 4 syllables
Line 3 6 syllables
Line 4 8 syllables
Line 5 2 syllables

So, they're short and sweet. :)

Aw, thank you!
haldoor
Nov. 28th, 2014 11:02 am (UTC)
Thanks for explaining that! I shall definitely have to give it a go sometime! (sorry for the late reply!)
asphaltcowgrrl
Dec. 4th, 2014 11:50 pm (UTC)
You are very welcome! :) And don't worry about it. I'm not going anywhere. LOL
goneahead
Nov. 11th, 2014 03:40 am (UTC)
Sigh. I'm actually a poet, but my muse keeps wandering off into fic. I am also currently in a free-verse phase, but that could change at any time. My poetry journal is currently parked at dreamwidth: goneahead.dreamwidth.org

Here's my most recent poem:

Two moths flutter
inside the walls of the greenhouse,
unaware summer has fled.

I do.

At night, my dreams
are full of summer, but when I wake,
the bed is still cold.

haldoor
Nov. 14th, 2014 09:01 am (UTC)
And a very good one too! I've seen some of the ones you'd put up in the mini_wrimo posts and I'm really enjoying them.

That one is extremely evocative. I've got shivers just thinking about it.
hiddlepinebatch
Nov. 12th, 2014 04:45 pm (UTC)
I used to write poetry in high school (wow, over 4 years ago...) and I actually have a lot hanging out on my laptop. I was always about free form. Very rarely did I conform to anything. I was always about how poetry is freeing and doesn't actually have to be structured. I was really angsty (wait, I still AM!) in high school and had this boy crush and this one novel going through my head all the time and it influenced a lot of my poetry. I don't write it much if at all anymore. I've moved on from that part in my life. But it was definitely noticed by my English teacher in school :D

Some examples:

A SHADOW OF MYSELF

I am a ghost
I am a shadow
I walk these halls invisible
Everyone is oblivious to my existence
I am ignored
I am here in the flesh
I am living
But my existence is not noticed
I am somewhere else
I don’t belong here
My mind drifts to another world
My world revolves around no one
You can’t make me wake up
I am a ghost
I am a shadow
This is my life - my very existence

---------------

Untitled

NO!
The cry echoes in a room full of people
The world starts to fade
It’s a hopeless cause
She rushes towards him, hoping, praying
But everything fades
He stands looking at her, waiting, watching
She cries, begging
But the judgment has been called
He disappears, ready to meet his fate
She whimpers as someone drags her away
Oh for her soul wouldn’t feel this hurt
Oh that he would come back to her
But no
The sentence is carried out
Over and done with
No more a husband then a man then a killer
I’m innocent
She drops to her knees, weak and frail
All she ever had was him
He’s gone
In his place, a memory
And she’s lost, lost to the world

------------

Christmas Star

What does this Star mean?
This star that shines in the night sky
Even during the day
Proclaim it to the Heavens
We shepherds we are
We tend to our sheep
The bright light on us few
Angels, proclamations, stars
What a journey
Bethlehem beckons
For what has been told to us
A king, yes, a child born
Great news, and great Tidings!
Rejoice all of you, all in one
A Savior, a king - our Lord
Bow down, give greetings and gifts
No matter smell, job, ethnicity
Gender, race, or age
All may come
Even us lowly shepherds
Who tend to sheep in fields
With a Star brightly shining on the world
To announce that yes, the world is not all lost...

---------

Forever

She's a step away from forever
Her bright white wedding dress sparkles in the noon light
She's only been ready for forever
She kisses her hands as they fold together
It was supposed to be their day
The day they said "I do"
She gently puts the red rose on the casket
Holds back the tears
She turns, back to the past, face to the future
Two rings symbolizing the love they had and what would have been
Are in her palms
She brushes a tear away and as they bury her love
She drops one of the rings blindly into the grave behind her
She takes a step away from her lost forever
And she is gone...

-----

EDIT: just realized that a majority of my actual original poetry (apart from the few on my laptop) are all in a poetry notebook from high school (buried in my closet at my parent's house, lol). Darn. Those actually had form, like a haiku and... yeah.


Edited at 2014-11-12 04:48 pm (UTC)
haldoor
Nov. 14th, 2014 09:27 am (UTC)
Ha... I won't even mention how many years since my high school poetry!

These are really good; thanks for sharing! I used to write some free-form stuff too, but haven't in years. It's a great way of expressing oneself, isn't it? I just find now, I work better knowing I have a limit, as time is so much busier. ;-)
( 12 comments — Leave a comment )

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