A poem in waiting. Write it.

[cymry]

Bone deep warmth
slipping over my skin
with a shivering
heat
as my toes make
a blanket of the sand.
Evening will come soon
and the day
is to perfect to leave
off, to gather my
things
and climb the waiting
stair.

 

[champagne1982]

Thanks Lauren.

 

[BooMerengue]

Boy, I hope y'all get in a better mood today!! These are so depressing, for the most part. But good...lol

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Boy, I hope y'all get in a better mood today!! These are so depressing, for the most part. But good...lol

I want to see your poem.

 

[BooMerengue]

Do you know how long it's been since I wrote a poem? A real one? Months... a lot of months.

I will try. But don't hold your breath. I forgot how.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

No excuses.

 

[LeBroz]

Could be steps up to a parking lot as the clan leaves from a day filled with fun at

a beach ~

or perhaps, a darker vision:


Forever it seems, in tortured isolation
wandering now between granite and sand
looking at steps' promise;

quiet contemplation

fate's railing, erratic as life
points up to the blue void;
and at rail's end, look down into the sky;
beautiful chasm, free air

To share that beckoning freedom;
no rail, restrictions gone, fly ~
exhilaration at last
that elusive moment

serene
................calm
.................................and

 

[BooMerengue]

The Wind speaks gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
to see for the first time
the waves that called to them
and brought the shells
the treasures
to hide and slide in the box
under the bed.

But the Sun fell into the water
and the voices grew faint
and the Sea was jealous
and went away to sulk
and stew and threw
a childish tantrum.

The Wind grew
It swirled and spit
pulled the heat to its bosom
reaching out ever farther
angrier, raging with Her envy
and then She dove
and drove
the water before Her
higher, faster
til She found those voices, and
She pulled them to Her

Out of beds, and out of schools
away from mothers and Daddys
out of cars, and out of Grammys
arms
Pulled and thrashed
clutching
all those laughing voices
and skittering feet

They aren't gone
completely
Listen! The Wind
brings them back
and if you are quiet
you will hear
the Wind speak gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
... for the last time.

 

[wildsweetone]

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhh i wuvs it!

 

[Liar]

The Wind speaks gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
to see for the first time
the waves that called to them
and brought the shells
the treasures
to hide and slide in the box
under the bed.

But the Sun fell into the water
and the voices grew faint
and the Sea was jealous
and went away to sulk
and stew and threw
a childish tantrum.

The Wind grew
It swirled and spit
pulled the heat to its bosom
reaching out ever farther
angrier, raging with Her envy
and then She dove
and drove
the water before Her
higher, faster
til She found those voices, and
She pulled them to Her

Out of beds, and out of schools
away from mothers and Daddys
out of cars, and out of Grammys
arms
Pulled and thrashed
clutching
all those laughing voices
and skittering feet

They aren't gone
completely
Listen! The Wind
brings them back
and if you are quiet
you will hear
the Wind speak gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
... for the first time.

"I will try. But don't hold your breath. I forgot how."

Yeah. Forgot. As if.

 

[BooMerengue]

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhh i wuvs it! *sigh

I'm glad you like it, WSO. But WHY do you like it? my retiring mind wants to know...

"I will try. But don't hold your breath. I forgot how."

Yeah. Forgot. As if.

TY, Liar. I had fun writing this. But I don't think of it as a good poem. Sorry. Not being coy. I got an idea- Lauren gave me another- I ran w/ it and here's what should really be a first draft. But I am glad that it pleased you.

Since I have to do critiques to get critiqued I wonder if I can do my own? Then if I get pissed off it's all on me, right?

 

[Liar]

TY, Liar. I had fun writing this. But I don't think of it as a good poem. Sorry. Not being coy. I got an idea- Lauren gave me another- I ran w/ it and here's what should really be a first draft. But I am glad that it pleased you.

Since I have to do critiques to get critiqued I wonder if I can do my own? Then if I get pissed off it's all on me, right?

That's the spirit.

But...seriously. I'd say that your poem is a good start, but that there is probably room for improvement in regards to chiseling out the style. If I were to hack and slash freely, I would take just the first stanza, not change anything at all about it, and have a delightful and focused image right there.

There is always better and worse efforts. But don't gimmie the "oh, little me can't write at all" and then ad-lib stuff like that.

 

[cymry]

I wonder how it would feel
to run my hand
over the rails of those stairs,
the splintered texture
against my grip.
How long have they
stood against the sinking
sands,
watching the sea
nibble at their grainy
foundation?
Myriad lives have tread upon
these bony shoulders.
Perhaps one,
just one, paused for a moment
to note the feel of those rails
under their hands.

 

[bluerains]

sighs...double sighs...

I wonder how it would feel
to run my hand
over the rails of those stairs,
the splintered texture
against my grip.
How long have they
stood against the sinking
sands,
watching the sea
nibble at their grainy
foundation?
Myriad lives have tread upon
these bony shoulders.
Perhaps one,
just one, paused for a moment
to note the feel of those rails
under their hands.

this is my favorite view...am a bit jealous...I didn't write down what we already know...ty...

 

[BooMerengue]

That's the spirit.

But...seriously. I'd say that your poem is a good start, but that there is probably room for improvement in regards to chiseling out the style. If I were to hack and slash freely, I would take just the first stanza, not change anything at all about it, and have a delightful and focused image right there.

There is always better and worse efforts. But don't gimmie the "oh, little me can't write at all" and then ad-lib stuff like that.

lol

I love you, you Bozo! I never said "oh, little me can't write at all" !!! What I have said, and truly believe, is that I'm not really a poet, but I do get lucky with a turn of phrase now and then.

But what do you mean- just the 1st stanza? Its an image, yeah, but to what end? You don't want the rest of the story?

'splain, pleeeze!!

 

[BooMerengue]

I wonder how it would feel
to run my hand
over the rails of those stairs,
the splintered texture
against my grip.
How long have they
stood against the sinking
sands,
watching the sea
nibble at their grainy
foundation?
Myriad lives have tread upon
these bony shoulders.
Perhaps one,
just one, paused for a moment
to note the feel of those rails
under their hands.

I like this, Cymry. To take such a small part of the big picture and enlarge upon it- cool idea, and I felt it right away. There were stairs like this on a rocky beach in Maine I love, and splinters aplenty! Now I wonder, too, who might have paused, and why.

Thank you.

 

[BooMerengue]

The Wind speaks gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
to see for the first time
the waves that called to them
and brought the shells
the treasures
to hide and slide in the box
under the bed.

But the Sun fell into the water
and the voices grew faint
and the Sea was jealous
and went away to sulk
and stew and threw
a childish tantrum.

The Wind grew
It swirled and spit
pulled the heat to its bosom
reaching out ever farther
angrier, raging with Her envy
and then She dove
and drove
the water before Her
higher, faster
til She found those voices, and
She pulled them to Her

Out of beds, and out of schools
away from mothers and Daddys
out of cars, and out of Grammys
arms
Pulled and thrashed
clutching
all those laughing voices
and skittering feet

They aren't gone
completely
Listen! The Wind
brings them back
and if you are quiet
you will hear
the Wind speak gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
... for the last time.

I should know better than to go back and read after I'm done.

I changed 'first' to 'last' in the last line.

Sorry.

 

[cymry]

I like this, Cymry. To take such a small part of the big picture and enlarge upon it- cool idea, and I felt it right away. There were stairs like this on a rocky beach in Maine I love, and splinters aplenty! Now I wonder, too, who might have paused, and why.

Thank you.

 

[twelveoone]

The Wind speaks gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
to see for the first time
the waves that called to them
and brought the shells
the treasures
to hide and slide in the box
under the bed.

But the Sun fell into the water
and the voices grew faint
and the Sea was jealous
and went away to sulk
and stew and threw
a childish tantrum.

The Wind grew
It swirled and spit
pulled the heat to its bosom
reaching out ever farther
angrier, raging with Her envy
and then She dove
and drove
the water before Her
higher, faster
til She found those voices, and
She pulled them to Her

Out of beds, and out of schools
away from mothers and Daddys
out of cars, and out of Grammys
arms
Pulled and thrashed
clutching
all those laughing voices
and skittering feet

They aren't gone
completely
Listen! The Wind
brings them back
and if you are quiet
you will hear
the Wind speak gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
... for the last time.

Since I was asked - whatever you do, has a wonderful song-like quality to it.
Specifics - Liar is right, the first stanza can stand on its own, the last makes a good complement to the first. The third, I have a minor problem with:
angrier, raging with Her envy - this line I would consider dropping or changing, don't think you need nor want angrier, certainly not raging (too stock) and Envy mystifies me.
higher, faster - reconsider, drop whole line, or at least one of the words change.
In refernce to the wind, at least reconsdier "spit" , think what you want the wind to portray, this doesn't seem to work for me.
It swirled and spit
pulled the heat to its bosom .
The second and the fourth stanzas are not needed, cutting them gives it a more mysterious aspect. - before i go further, is this a hurricane, or tsunami? There are sections of both, you may want to keep.
Best ~1201

 

[BooMerengue]

Since I was asked - whatever you do, has a wonderful song-like quality to it. Thank you!
Specifics - Liar is right, the first stanza can stand on its own, the last makes a good complement to the first. The third, I have a minor problem with:
angrier, raging with Her envy - this line I would consider dropping or changing, don't think you need nor want angrier, certainly not raging (too stock) and Envy mystifies me. Maybe my fault- I'm trying to show that the Wind is 'upset' that the little children left the beach; she's all of the 7 Deadly Sins, the worst of which is Envy. She wants them to come back.
higher, faster - reconsider, drop whole line, or at least one of the words change.
In refernce to the wind, at least reconsdier "spit" , think what you want the wind to portray, this doesn't seem to work for me.
It swirled and spit
pulled the heat to its bosom . Its the heat of the Gulf water that changes a normal hurricane to a Katrina
The second and the fourth stanzas are not needed, cutting them gives it a more mysterious aspect. - before i go further, is this a hurricane, or tsunami? There are sections of both, you may want to keep.
Best ~1201

The Wind speaks gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
to see for the first time
the waves that called to them
and brought the shells
the treasures
to hide and slide in the box
under the bed.

The Wind grew
circular in her rage,
gathering the forces to
her heart, darkening,
ravenning (This is a Stephen King word- is it ok?)
and She dove
and drove
the water before Her
higher, faster
til She found those voices, and
She pulled them back to Her.

They aren't gone
completely
Listen! The Wind
brings them back
and if you are quiet
you will hear
the Wind speak gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
... for the last time.

Liar and 1201- Thank you for the comments. I hope this is better.

 

[mojo_cat]

it was the colours, maybe. i don't know.

the forum won't let me keep myspacing, so im attaching it as a doc.

 

[40% non-bleach]

the thief departs
with white gold
and fists of green

as empty blue eyes
search for the sun
above the flat earth

 

[BooMerengue]

it was the colours, maybe. i don't know.

the forum won't let me keep myspacing, so im attaching it as a doc.

everytime I try to open it my computer shuts off. to get your spacing just use .... til you start the line where you want and then color the dots white. I'm sure there are more professional ways but it works for me.

like this

...... hey!

 

[mojo_cat]

everytime I try to open it my computer shuts off. to get your spacing just use .... til you start the line where you want and then color the dots white. I'm sure there are more professional ways but it works for me.

like this

...... hey!

i will try that!

if you right-click and "save as", it should be ok...if you click on it it will launch Word and that may be why it crashed your computer?
i feel bad!

 

[BooMerengue]

The Wind speaks gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
to see for the first time
the waves that called to them
and brought the shells
the treasures
to hide and slide in the box
under the bed.

The Wind grew
circular in her rage,
gathering the forces to
her heart, darkening,
ravenning (This is a Stephen King word- is it ok?)
and She dove
and drove
the water before Her
higher, faster
til She found those voices, and
She pulled them back to Her.

They aren't gone
completely
Listen! The Wind
brings them back
and if you are quiet
you will hear
the Wind speak gently now
of the laughter and tiny feet
that skittered down down
to the sand
down
to the sea
... for the last time.

Liar and 1201- Thank you for the comments. I hope this is better.

but now I don't like it too much.