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Thread: here's one I started

  1. #1

    here's one I started

    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.
    Permit me to doubt.

  2. #2
    Good morning, Campers! Jay's Avatar
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    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.
    I have a plan: attack!

  3. #3

    k

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

  4. #4
    Good morning, Campers! Jay's Avatar
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    Feb 2003
    Location
    Czech Republic
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    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?
    I have a plan: attack!

  5. #5

    Jay

    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.
    Permit me to doubt.

  6. #6

    Interesting idea!

    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.

  7. #7
    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.
    It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.
    --Aristotle

  8. #8

    hope you alldon't mind

    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.
    Permit me to doubt.

  9. #9
    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.

  10. #10

    lol

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

  11. #11
    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.

  12. #12

    hmm

    well put. perhaps I will try again tonight.
    Permit me to doubt.

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