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The traditional cinquain is based on a syllable count.
line 1 - 2 syllables
line 2 - 4 syllables
line 3 - 6 syllables
line 4 - 8 syllables
line 5 - 2 syllables
in this game, take the last line of the previous persons cinquain, the same way we play the shared Haiku game.
I'll start:
These words
are black and white
but bring color to mind
lemons, sun dried blue-bonnets and
red barns
next person begins with red barns
Red barns
come across the
car window as one drives
across the Pennsylvania
country
How's that? Cool. A little harder than haiku but not as hard as tanka.
This looks really interesting! :banana:
Red barns
present in farms
are to little children
a source of entertainment
and fun
(Is this the right way to play this game? :D)
and fun
such a strange word
sometimes makes me wonder
if, maybe, Speaking's not pretty
at all
at all
of these swollen
rivers churning around
the halfway drowned and willing blind,
I look.
wow....this looks really hard but im up for a poetry challenge! great idea Riesa!
I look
Past the beggars
Grime and caked blood
No importance ,I have deadlines
Pennies
Pennies
swing the swollen
stack of change we treasure,
each lends its weight to our amount
of time.
I apologize for the double post, but I couldn't resist.
Of time
and human faults
we grow restless, anxious
to see the end of our parade
of pride.
no need to apologize, cinquain away!
of pride
she knows little
though she's witnessed it in
others reeling drunk with their own
glory
glory
that with a shift
of image becomes a
warrior singing, his voice
like rain
Glory
glazes the eyes
of those to remember,
parchment no proper tomb to store
the dead.
Like rain
a poem will fall,
splashing like a rogue fish
upon the surface of senses,
unkept.
oops, sorry IP. :D but damn that second one is a great one.
unkept
benevolence
flushes from fog-strewn hearts
frightening those unaccustomed
to gain
To gain
Sweat leaks on cards
Body shakes, picks it up
To win, lose my dier misfortune
I lost
I lost
the thoughts that float
and quiver in a breeze,
like snow they gather only in
the cold.
The cold
scares timid sense,
who in heated chambers
finds her cure, emboldened by rapt
fluid.
Fluid
Liquid sorrow
Floats up to glassy eyes
Sucked back in with masculine fear
No tears
No tears
are killing me
they have no care for me
cruel tears do not hear anything all
brutal tears.
Brutal
tears tremble down
cheeks of blasted glory,
the callous face grows soft again,
melting.
melting,
I am melting.
naughty girls get what they
deserve, just ask the wicked witch,
she knows.
she knows
all and too much
but before she is done
the dark sky will burst forth anew
with truth
I like this better than the Haiku, i can work better with more lines =P
With truth
comes God's wisdom.
Today I walk alone
with His eyes looking down on me.
Praise Him.
Praise Him
My heart cries out
Words that do no justice
living sacrifice speak more clear
Shabach!
Shabach!
two words are one
religious and torture
A subject which i know to little
To say
Shabach is a really hard word to use :sick:
I had a really good one last night...but i never remember stuff i think of right before bed. Oh well.
To say
I love you, dogs
is very hard but you can
ask brainstrain to say these words,
he will.
He will
Plunges with zeal
Ripples dance round flailed arms
Screams fade, spot lifeguards empty arms
False hope
False hope
Springs ever in
The breasts of those who dwell
In worlds of self delusion or
In love
in love
she finds her peace,
knowing it is of God
with no holds or expectations
attached
Attached
nowhere,
the boy drifts from earthly
pleasure to manhood, his old age,
and dies.
And dies
Fur a grey silk
Cold pellets go untouched
Beady eyes warmed my wheel-like heart
Hamsters
Hamsters
And guinea-pigs
And little mice and cats
And smooth white rats and fluffy dogs
Are pets.
are pets
but extensions
of our true selves unleashed,
purity of thought , love freely
given
Given
It is, when a
Pragmatic idea
Comes to life and
It bursts
It bursts
into flow'r and
wide casts its heady scent
warm, soft, about the fragrant bow'r.
Sleep on.
Sleep on
Chloroform spreads
Amorous stealth leads us
To jewels cascading dresser drawers
Stolen
doh. Too slow.
Stolen,
fleeting nature
led astray by whirwinds,
past innocence sunken treasure,
rotting.
good idea, Riesa! :)
Rotting
Summer apples
When snow has swallowed trees,
Only these are left to languish
Slow sour . . .
*curtsies*
slow sour
your sway away,
hammocks, the damaged weave
made with worn mexican sisal;
still flows.
still flows
through the dark sea
slowly floating away
breaths coming in slow, choking gasps
drowning
Drowning,
I find to be
perhaps the slowest,and
most artful of all of the ways
to die.