sorry,,,,,
the word is well, 'word''
Printable View
sorry,,,,,
the word is well, 'word''
Word, dude! Whassup? Yo!
Ain't nothing but a thang, man.
Keeping it real, dawg.
Makin' Presidents, you dig?
If Almighty let me breathe...
Raindancer
Hey, you ole scum,come
the stage is set for ole grits
to make most of time
youth gone will never return
enjoy the moment and die!
Maz not only did not leave a word for me, but I cannot see how his tanka ties into my word, which was "raindancer". So I will choose my own word, and that word will be insult
Cor, mate! In a twist?
Guy thinks 'es a ruddy twee!
Loose yer mum, now, Luv?
No glass. Baby needs bottle.
No, mate, called yer poofter...
the word is Raindancer
sorry, Pen, I forgot to leave a word and it's okay that you used your discretion
BTW
rain dancer is (also) a festival where old grits make most of their time in jolly pleasure/entertainment. There could be other meanings but I don't know what was in your mind
old chimp
and a baboon
dance in the rain with joy
and sing a song of olden days
all wet
sorry got all mixed up - here is the tanka
drops of rain water
flush the visage of flowers
give them a new look
the garden shines with rubies
dancing in the atmosphere
insult
Your breath offends me,
the way you draw it in and
out oppressively.
Go, stop your ceaseless clamour
for life, end it for our sakes.
Sadness
Ah! I see you have down that you live at the edge of the Arabian Sea. You would not know then of Native American Raindancers. The Raindance is a ceremony preformed by a Shaman or other tribal leaders or special dancers intended to appease the Rain God and send rain to grow crops. I am pleased that you knew I didnot intend the insult tanka to be pointed at you, just a silly poem in Cockney!Quote:
Originally Posted by mazHur
Raindancer
The dancer's feathers
Brush moistureless barren soil
Voice chanting prayers
Head and eyes looking skyward
Send us water, Grandfather!
Dear Pen
thanks for apprising me of the background of Raindance ---American style.We also have rituals to summon rain in times of drought in Indo-Pak subcontinent
and the world literally meant what you said. However, I know there is some esoteric background to it as well.,,,wherein old people try to relish the memories of their youth by merry making. Anyway,,,,,,
Since this activity is fun neither I nor you or any one else here has reason to get offended at such 'friendly fires' ( I mean the so-called insults or 'flirts !!!lol)
Sadness was the last word, left by Fifth.
Sorrow fills the eyes,
Tears travel along creases,
Drop like rain off chin.
Broken spirit reaches out--
Beyond veil of falling tears...
Live Oak
towering
into the sky
shading the naked earth
the phantom with all its glory
lives on
krill
sorry, I mistook it for cinquin
here again,,,,,,
like a towering giant,
like a Big Foot trampling earth;
a cloud in the sky;
a many legged hydra ;
a phantom screws on
The tiny krill shine
Bioluminescence,
Very important
Creatures so small feed the whales
Never underestimate size...
Film Noir
this is a good one !Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
film noir
une tableau noir
let the whole world be black
but don't let 'film noir' wrap up
your heart
here again......
brightened by sunlight
is the visage of this earth
everything bustles
with the joy of life and love
keep darkness of night away
le poisson
I could be wrong, but that means "the fish" right? (learned by a quick google search)
Anyhow, I'll write my poem as if it did mean fish; if in case it doesn't I apologize.
Silver flop fashions
ripples to blend the heated
glare, cool blue infused
with rapid tale-flip motion;
spirals tease the looming sun.
the contours of a book
stiff straight leather spine,
nice hand worked inlaid covers,
protect the leaves--
rich parchment calligraphy
emblazed, a tome of value…
sleepy little town
peaceful hours of sleep
in this haven with neon
lights growing brighter
as the night crouches low, and
fills the dusty roads, and me.
The smell of dusty old books
every book lover knows
that entrancing, lingering
musk of ancient books--
smell of adventure hidden,
secrets undiscovered...
Superhero
damnit, this has fallen low enough. sorry Pen!
Red cape flaps agape,
his silver luster eyes stare
from perched horizons;
scanning evil networks, smog
tackling sky and scorched remains.
that homeless guy hearing voices on the corner.
this whole world is mine
yet I stand on the corner
of the street and hear
voices dinning into my
ears: there is no room for you!
casualty
blood drips from her eyes
while she clutches the baby
life passes before her--
shrieking wails under bosom
open pale lids to see...dirt
aches
the bones of my heart
crackle under time's brute load,
its joints are worn out
it stands on the corner of
the Love Street just sighing
contradiction
:( I wish no one felt this way. But alot, do.Quote:
Originally Posted by mazHur
why? arn't we humans?? we feel, don't we?:D :)
:nod: but it hurts though.Quote:
Originally Posted by mazHur
useless blathering
spews off her inflamed mouth. Words
laced with ignorance
awe her peers to mindlessly
worship faux intelligence.
Robots!
Yes, it does.:(
angels are better
than us humans as they work
and do their wages
without ever feeling grief
or the slightest thought of love
destiny
On the corner of
the page I see words written
in a hand unknown.
Read on, silent voyager
they say, and so I read on.
An old newspaper.
Dried windy crackle,
faces printed to the curb
whipped with disinterest.
Streaked and filthy caravan
society's countenance.
the aftereffects of spinning
I've never seen stars
so close before; as I lie
against the cool grass
motionless yet in motion,
spinning with the Earth.
Early evening stars
Slowly filtered from
a sleeping mind, summer stars
robe a naked sky,
every silvered light a drop
taunting of a lasting touch.
down in the earth
Sparrows and the bones
of beasts decay alike to
our cerebral skull.
Pockets dug to carry change
ahead of dreams are empty.
a fruit carrying vine
Tangled leaves grapple
the stone, seeking holes, boring
tendrils deep within,
sapping life from dirt and air,
bursting, a glory of fruit.
sitting, doing nothing
laziness has its
own rewards; you just sit
and do nothing yet
anytime and anywhere
a fly may enter your mouth!
flummox
hooorrah! participants!
Bulbs glare into night,
an encroaching awareness
of dim breaths behind
moths that scatter with the light,
this cloud of perturbation.
light spread through the atmosphere
It starts at the edge
of the clouds, spreading along
a dark horizon,
consuming like hungry ants
munching, until the sky glows.
children at play
Hey guys it's my first shot in Tanka writing so don't be hard on me while evaluating it ;)
Serene existence,
voices of little angels spread out
all aver the place,
at a complete ease
drowning my heart in happiness.
Flaws in perfection.
Hiya naomi, welcome to LitNet! :)
There're generally no criticisms here in the fun game threads (except in the picture and form poetry rounds), though anyone's free to express their admiration or confusion or anything on anyone else's pieces. :) Your tanka was very nice, though there was, i thought, some deviations from the given syllable format. But then, who said we always have to follow rules? :D
The waters ripple
the moon. And the trees, standing
so tall in the night,
are made blurry by the wind.
Time, tonight, is pocked with age.
Thats an interesting avatar, by the way, Fifth.
A dusty bible.
No time for God's word—
the leather bound forgotten
volume sits lonely,
companion to cobwebs and dust
when it should be read daily...
It's My Life...
please leave me alone
let me drink joy from the cup
of my loneliness;
it is not only soothing
for the heart but gives me life !
''surrender'
surrender is sweet
when you are willing to bend
to the will of love
but surrender is bitter
when all it achieves is loss.
"family"
Here we all belong
Unity is very precious
Knowing who we are
People we completely trust
People whom we dearly love
"lost"
My friend my heart used
to be but it's my friend no
more; what has gone wrong?
my heart has totally changed
sides and speaks for you!
barbarism
--------------