here's one I started

[gatsbysghost]

And I will leave it to everyone to finish. Everyone must participate, this excercise is not optional and will be worth twenty percent of your final grade :)


Lazily, the sun peeks over frost covered hill
Sporting its perpetual lazy shape and grin
It moves upward in a lethargic manner
Lumbering about as slowly
As those who wake with it.

[Jay]

Aren't you an English teacher ;) ? Not saying there's something wrong with it if you are, just wondering... Okay, you really want that? So what about this?
---

Gently, the wind is running through the trees
Making the leaves softly rustling
Shifting the curtains of your room
And you can see a steep hill
With just an old lonesome tree on its peak.

---
Well, this is the first time I ever posted any "poetry". Hope I didn't ruin your good idea and the poem. Might become a nice poem if more people would participate and write few lines as well. I'm anxious to see how's the poem going to continue.

[gatsbysghost]

No Jay, I'm not an English teacher. Your addition to the poem was excellent. Good Job.

[Jay]

Thanks, happy to co-operate. Don't mean to push or somethnig, but seeing as almost no-body's present at any time, don't you want to continue? This way I might write something worthwhile and you could read pieces of somebody else's poems. Even if it would be just mine... You're up to it? Or you just wanted to start the thread/poem and let the others to continue/end it?

[gatsbysghost]

Feel free to work on something else, I will be. I just wanted to see how far this poem would go. Don't be afraid to post your poetry. Poetry is a deeply personal thing that no one has the right to say "sucks." When someone says they don't like one of my poems I don't take it to heart. Write poems for yourself, share them with others. Poetry is therapy. If someone doesn't like what you have written, it may just mean that they haven't had the same experience as you and therefore to them it is irrelevant. At the same time, someone else might read it and find that you have put into words exactly what they are feeling.

[b]

Hello gatsbysghost,

The type communication that you suggest appeals to me very much. When you really want to interfere with poetry, forums like these are best exploited when one actually writes and analyses poetry together.

The expression of feelings - or more generally the utterance of poetry - becomes really interesting when two people compose together: the interpretation of the poem and all its layers of reality intensifies greatly this way.

In the past, I have also tried to set up a project like this - with a couple of friends, actually - and it worked out greatly! Only then, we used proze, which is really less complicated - and interesting - to play with on such an interactive way.

Therefore, I have written an additional five lines to your first piece of poetry: I hope you like it!
______________________________

Lazily, the sun peeks over frost covered hill
Sporting its perpetual lazy shape and grin
It moves upward in a lethargic manner
Lumbering about as slowly
As those who wake with it.

The soft and yet transparant rays of light
Gently fall upon the whitest mask of earth
Forgetful snow reflects our dreamy thoughts
And slumbering in light we sleep
Until consciousness awakes us.

[waxmephilosophical]

Lazily, the sun peeks over frost covered hill
Sporting its perpetual lazy shape and grin
It moves upward in a lethargic manner
Lumbering about as slowly
As those who wake with it.

The glistening drops are seeping down
A sacrifice for their thirsty hosts
Who on the hill do bide their time
In languid, drowsy contemplation
Beneath the now beaming sienna orb.

[gatsbysghost]

I've moved your contributions out of order somewhat and I'm gonna put it all together. Great stuff by the way!


Lazily, the sun peeks over a frost covered hill
Sporting its perpetual lazy shape and grin
It moves upward in a lethargic manner
Lumbering about as slowly
As those who wake with it.

The soft yet transparent rays of light
Gently fall upon the whitest mask of earth
Forgetful snow reflects our dreamy thoughts
And slumbering in light we sleep
Until consciousness awakes us.

The glistening drops are seeping down
A sacrifice for their thirsty hosts
Who on the hill do bide their time
In languid, drowsy contemplation
Beneath the now burning sienna orb.

Gently, the wind is running through the trees
Making the leaves softly rustle
Shifting the curtains of your room
And you can see a steep hill
With just an old lonsome tree at its peak.

Beneath that tree huddle serious men
wiping hoarfrost from the tools of their might
preparing to unleash hell upon the town below
That you call it home makes little difference
For the crescendo of their conquest lies on your doorstep.

[b]

Hello gatsbysghost,

A little 'problem' with this post is that everyone who has written an additional series of lines, has probably assumed that she / he was supposed to react to the first lines only - not to the contributions.

The 'pile of poetry' that you now have composed is of course very interesting and it really adds another dimension to the 'poem', but I don't think your allmost Dadaic act makes the poetical harmony - corresponding with that of (human) nature - any better.

I find the result - of course - very intriguing, but I think that it would have been more poetical when everyone was knowing what she / he was doing.

I suggest that we make our process a bit more clear in the future, for instance by compiling 'a temporary' poem each time after a new (relevant) contribution joines in.

[gatsbysghost]

true, true. But I have to say that I love making a cake out of chaos.

[b]

I understand that, but the first part of the poem didn't imply that you would bake such a messy, crumbly, though sweet pile of cake.

[gatsbysghost]

well put. perhaps I will try again tonight.