peruban
(888 posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:00 AM
Original message |
|
"Untitled"
Sing to me your bird call echo dew breeze sun kiss! Were I a grass blade finger pointed up to sky, or Standing pillar tall with jutting hip like coconut tree, or Spiky sable with pineapple stem exploding firework fingers, or Her royal majesty, slinky, slender, dancing with the wind The sun would drip in droplets on my tongue and Bathe my face in yellow warm caress.
But I will not shun the sun, no I will not give insult to the sun, for though
The concrete veins of man do feed the metropolitan heart, pumping legal tender to a bureaucratic nervous system, and though inside the stucco jungles ice junkies hide under florescent veils wearing asbestos hats, sipping caramel-colored gutter juice, and nibbling cardboard
The clouds do gather in crowds and gossip about the Earth, ungrateful earth, who never returns their tears of joy.
And no one wails like the sun, whose quantized photon tears Trickle light speed onto day.
Only the birds can hear.
-Peruban
****************************************************************
Anyone else want to improv something?
|
Droopy
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:04 AM
Response to Original message |
1. Beans, beans musical fruit, |
|
the more you eat the more you toot, the more you toot the better you feel, so let's eat beans with every meal.
|
peruban
(888 posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:06 AM
Response to Reply #1 |
|
I meant something original.
|
Droopy
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:11 AM
Response to Reply #2 |
3. Okay, but I'm a terrible poet. |
|
That hasn't stopped me from trying to write poetry, though. :) Here's one of my "better" ones, but it's not improv.
Beer
If wine is divine then beer is heavenly.
You know when life gets going strong that there is absolutely nothing wrong with throwing back a cold six pack to ease you of your panic attack.
And when it seems like life is hell and everyone is ringing your bell invite them out to have a drink and drink the brew until you stink.
And if your mate leaves you one night old beer never grows trite it will be there ever faithfully to share in your poor misery.
But you really don’t need an excuse to put good beer into use all you really need is a five spot and a place to keep it from getting hot.
|
peruban
(888 posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:15 AM
Response to Reply #3 |
|
I'm always impressed when someone can stick to meter and rhyme, my poems are usually more chaotic, formless, free verse.
And the subject matter is hilarious!! I'm a bit of a drinker and so that just hit home for me. Well done!
|
Droopy
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:18 AM
Response to Reply #4 |
|
Your's is over my head. :dunce:
|
peruban
(888 posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:29 AM
Response to Reply #5 |
8. It's pretty basic, really. |
|
I was just thinking about my days working in a miserable cubicle and how I would often dream of being outside with nature, like a tree.
My basic trick is to never say what I want to say outright, but instead to allude in metaphor.
|
Tuesday Afternoon
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:18 AM
Response to Original message |
|
that is pretty frantic, kinetic.
not much for improv, myself.
Miss Peggy might contribute something if she sees this thread.
|
CaliforniaPeggy
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:46 AM
Response to Reply #6 |
10. I just might, my dear Tuesday Afternoon... |
trackfan
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:26 AM
Response to Original message |
7. Cot Fantasy - from my office poems of 1996. It's an acrostic - note the first letter of each line: |
|
Cot Fantasy
After I rise from my soft warm bed, and I drive off to work, a cot would be nice there. My shiny desk could be used to conceal the evidence. When I would start to feel I was falling asleep, I'd go to my cot's secret drawer and hurriedly open it up. Then into the cot I would jump with joy. No one out in the hall would know that inside of the room I lie, sleeping peacefully, and my mind would be freed from the nagging noise that disturbs it all day. The others would not even note my presence, or lack thereof, as I quietly made up for all the rest that I'd lost from a lack of sleep. They go on with the daily toil, while I snooze and I curl up under a blanket. They can not view me, for there is no clear, glass window to see through. They'd need an x-ray to see through the door. I yearn for a world where my work day zoomed by, as I lie there sleeping.
|
peruban
(888 posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:32 AM
Response to Reply #7 |
|
I've never even thought of writing something like that. It must have been challenging sticking to that form while keeping to the subject so clearly.
|
CaliforniaPeggy
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:52 AM
Response to Original message |
|
Improv is something you never want to see from me!
Trust me on this...
Every poem is written, sweated over, polished to within an inch of its life...
And then maybe it's acceptable...
Maybe.
Here's one I did recently:
"Seeing With My Heart"
When my vision fails And my eyes cannot see What stands before them
Then I hope I’m Seeing with my heart
For there the vision’s true No filters hide reality
So I let the scales fall And open up myself To see him With my heart
I wouldn’t want to miss This wondrous vision Because I could not see
Because I would not let My heart speak its truth
I‘d have missed So much That has mattered In my life
I must not be afraid Not all hidden things Are false
I will trust my heart Its vision tells the truth...
|
peruban
(888 posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 01:06 AM
Response to Reply #11 |
14. I can see how that one must have cost you work. |
|
Edited on Mon Nov-24-08 01:16 AM by peruban
I especially like the lines:
"Then I hope I’m Seeing with my heart
For there the vision’s true No filters hide reality"
I often take my time with my poems, lying around thinking, writing a word or two then erasing them for others. I tend to have my head in the clouds when I write rather than my feet on the ground, that's why I like detailed, ornate poems.
The writing process is boring for most people, that's why there are so few movies about poets. Plenty of movies about painters, composers, and sculpturers. But nobody's really interested in seeing somebody go through the ordeal of composing a poem.
I also find improvisation keeps my mind abstract and focused. It's always fun to see what you can pound out in a short sitting.
Oh, and btw, great to see you again!
|
CaliforniaPeggy
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 01:19 AM
Response to Reply #14 |
17. I don't recall that this one was very difficult... |
|
And I thank you for your praise!
Great to see you too!
I enjoy talking with you too...
:hug:
|
bridgit
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:54 AM
Response to Original message |
|
Edited on Mon Nov-24-08 12:56 AM by bridgit
Oh what fun another one Quite nearly done in the oven After which I'll likely pull it out Maybe even twist & shout Oh what fun another one!
Peanuts and cashew shells Left in the vestibule twixt Remnants of spy hunters Where the aspens have already turned The summers are not hot They are colder than ice And the ice it is not slippery nor firm To any extent but watery instead Nearer still to inside where The head it sings in lieu
"Oh what fun another one Quite nearly done in the oven After which I'll likely pull it out Maybe even twist & shout Oh what fun another one!"
The sing song suckle... The lyme of a tic-toc malady T'ween the shells of peanuts and cashews Dropped in the vestibule with less cares than warrant Where they are come in due course And in the fullness of time found
|
peruban
(888 posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 01:11 AM
Response to Reply #12 |
|
It's playful. I also like the refrain, gives it a cohesion that the details counter.
|
Blue-Jay
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 12:57 AM
Response to Original message |
|
Big brother, checksigner and compiler of my yearly holidays my urine tester boiling fester creativity molester You cling to me with a paisley noose and dangle me from the building top with a double windsor knot like the puppet I've become.
|
peruban
(888 posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 01:13 AM
Response to Reply #13 |
16. Hey, that's kind of like mine above. |
|
I see parallels in the misery of being under authority. Fuck authority, I say.
|
pokerfan
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 01:29 AM
Response to Original message |
18. sheepskin seat covers |
|
sheepskin seat covers winter warm and summer cool little lambs no more
|
peruban
(888 posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 01:35 AM
Response to Reply #18 |
|
Almost Zen, really. Reminds me of Ezra Pound's "In a Station of the Metro".
|
Lyric
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Nov-24-08 08:50 AM
Response to Original message |
20. Not improv, as I am lazy this morning. |
|
God at the Fruit Stand
Every time I spend a dollar I cross off your name. It offends me to see it, like faith is something we can trade for California oranges on a hot highway shoulder.
When I was nine, Sister Sandra cut an apple in half and said that your story was there in a circle of seeds. I almost believed her—except
fragile flesh, rigid core, small round infants deep inside, and a skin speckled brown with the sun. An apple is the fruit of a mother.
You can burn a bush or part a sea, but you can never know how it feels to grow a universe, to feel him curled asleep in your middle, pressing your hand from inside, to weep and curse and part like the sea to bear him.
How can I trust you with eternity when you've never felt agony in creation, never risked your existence for the sake of bringing forth?
How can I do anything but cross you off every time I spend a dollar and buy a roadside orange?
|
DU
AdBot (1000+ posts) |
Fri May 10th 2024, 12:06 PM
Response to Original message |