Lands Challenge Thread

[Lauren Hynde]

I remember 'freeverse', 'five stanzas', 'internal rhyme', 'BDSM' as 'a metaphor for life, love or work' and i think 'alliteration'. The words '30 seconds' and 'fuck' leap to mind too, but I'm not sure about that...

Thanks a lot, Land

 

[WickedEve]

Thank you, Land.
Lauren, are you busy? Do you have other things to do besides writing poetry? I don't think so!

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Thank you, Land.
Lauren, are you busy? Do you have other things to do besides writing poetry? I don't think so!

You mean things like 8+3 hours of school+commute, per day, finnish classes, sports, being obsessed with movies in general and one very big book in particular, a so-called social life of sorts, a girlfriend, the first chapter of a story to finish for so many months I don't even care to count and er... sleep?

No, not at all. I'll be back with your poem soon.

And Eve? Red left you a challenge in the bottom of last page, did you see it?

 

[WickedEve]

You mean things like 8+3 hours of school+commute, per day, finnish classes, sports, being obsessed with movies in general and one very big book in particular, a so-called social life of sorts, a girlfriend, the first chapter of a story to finish for so many months I don't even care to count and er... sleep?

No, not at all. I'll be back with your poem soon.

And Eve? Red left you a challenge in the bottom of last page, did you see it?

NO, I did not see it! I'm not looking. I know how Red is and I'm not looking! You can't make me!

 

[WickedEve]

I looked. Damn that man!

 

[REDWAVE]

Eve-- LOL

Thank you, sweetheart. I love you, too.

 

[WickedEve]

Re: Eve, honey . . .

Now I remember-- Eve did challenge me way back when, didn't she? I guess that means I should challenge her.

Eve, honey, you can use any form or poetic techniques you like, but I challenge you to write a poem from the point of view of a black person living in a ghetto, or in poverty in the rural South.

That should be interesting.

Red, honey child, ain't you too busy nibblin' on some nice, thick, chewy cock to challenge little ol' white Southern me?
(imagine Scarlet O'Hara saying this)

 

[REDWAVE]

Well . . .

Dahlin', I haven't nibbled on a nice, thick, chewy cock in days now. How about you?

Could you send me one?



You'd make a kinky Scarlet O'Hara, all right!

 

[REDWAVE]

BTW

By the way, Eve, I'm from the South myself. I was born in Jacksonville, Florida, and lived in Florida the first eleven years of my life. I lived in North Carolina for six years, and went to college at Duke. Unlike you, however, I got the hell out of the Southeast as soon as I could.

I don't like cold climates, though. That's why I've lived most of my adult life in the Southwest, mainly Las Vegas.

 

[WickedEve]

I'm not sharing my chewy cocks with you! I'm greedy about cock. You know that Red.
I'm working on the poem now. It may not be what you're looking for, though. I'm relying on stories told to me by my grandpa.

 

[_Land]

kiss kiss lauren, but what did I do

I remember 'freeverse', 'five stanzas', 'internal rhyme', 'BDSM' as 'a metaphor for life, love or work' and i think 'alliteration'. The words '30 seconds' and 'fuck' leap to mind too, but I'm not sure about that...

Thanks a lot, Land

 

[_Land]

Dragonhearted Challenged

Thanksgiving is coming, and i feel like quite a turkey(did i realy say that?) so what i would like from you miss, is a free verse poem about what you have to be thankful for :X

It needs to be a minimum of 5 stanzas at least 4 lines each!



*SMILES* _Land

 

[Guest]

another challenge

I have a new challenge, open to the first who claims it (and anyone else who feels inspired to take the plunge).

As you might remember, my first challenge was to write a poem about your conception of "the middle of nowhere". The result was quite interesting (Lauren Hynde is a silversmith of words). Thinking along those lines, here is my new challenge:

Write a poem (in any form) about your conception of "somewhere"--NOT "anywhere", mind you, because that is different

I'm certain the results will be fascinating

--Xtaabay

 

[Angeline]

For Xtaabay in thanks for her poems

Chichen Itza

Somewhere in heat
the Sun has eyes enough
to reach from the pinnicle
of its universe and cup
slow sensuous deceitful
hands over the Yucatan

Somewhere in green
the foliage full and
grass thick untamed
offers low bushes unfurling
tuberous velvet leaves
and dense webs of fern

Somewhere in sloth
iguana conquers Chac-Mool
draped in stone bowl
life offered barely moving
drunk with light and heat
its reticular lid ticks

Somewhere in sound
a whisper pressed from lips
to ancient limestone
screams the sacrifice
of triumph the paradox
of ball court's distant echo

Somewhere in mystery
cool green cenote is
thick with secrets and
littered with bones of
war and death passing
the quiet forever of time

 

[WickedEve]

Back Door Folk: For Red's Challenge

deleted

 

[Angeline]

Bravo Eve!!!

Daddy told Mister 'bout Uncle Cob and the wake.
"Oh the wailin', Mister!" Daddy got all big when spinnin' -
he was a shadow looming over checkered squares
that stayed grainy with salt.
I'd drink buttermilk till it overflowed,
clinging hand-me-downs to my skin,
while daddy told Mister 'bout how Uncle shot up out of that casket
and how Ol' Gray Eyes leapt out the window,
taking curtains and glass with him.
Uncle Cob weren't ready to go over yonder
to that place far away.

What an incredible evocative piece this is! The images are powerful and the voice authentic. This is just masterful. You go, girlfriend!

 

[WickedEve]

I rites good cause I's south'n.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Ah! So that's the secret! Thank God, I guess I can blame my Northern Soul, then

 

[WickedEve]

Lauren, your sig line is way too sublte.

Did anyone get that "Last year of dry days" refers to prohibition which ended in 1933 or did ya'll think I was talking about a drought?

By the way, the poem is a blend of fact and fiction. Thanks Poppy for all the stories.

 

[REDWAVE]

Very good poem, Eve. Now, that wasn't so painful, after all, was it? One constructive criticism: I don't think you have to spell out so much who's white and who's black. I think the poem would be stronger if you just implied it through the language used.

 

[WickedEve]

Very good poem, Eve. Now, that wasn't so painful, after all, was it? One constructive criticism: I don't think you have to spell out so much who's white and who's black. I think the poem would be stronger if you just implied it through the language used.

I agree. I'll polish it some more before I submit it anywhere. Thanks for the challenge Red one.

 

[WickedEve]

Re: For Xtaabay in thanks for her poems

Chichen Itza

Somewhere in heat
the Sun has eyes enough
to reach from the pinnicle
of its universe and cup
slow sensuous deceitful
hands over the Yucatan

Somewhere in green
the foliage full and
grass thick untamed
offers low bushes unfurling
tuberous velvet leaves
and dense webs of fern

Somewhere in sloth
iguana conquers Chac-Mool
draped in stone bowl
life offered barely moving
drunk with light and heat
its reticular lid ticks

Somewhere in sound
a whisper pressed from lips
to ancient limestone
screams the sacrifice
of triumph the paradox
of ball court's distant echo

Somewhere in mystery
cool green cenote is
thick with secrets and
littered with bones of
war and death passing
the quiet forever of time

This is beautifully written, Angeline. And a great challenge, Xtaabay.

 

[Guest]

Re: For Xtaabay in thanks for her poems

Chichen Itza

Somewhere in heat
the Sun has eyes enough
to reach from the pinnicle
of its universe and cup
slow sensuous deceitful
hands over the Yucatan

Somewhere in green
the foliage full and
grass thick untamed
offers low bushes unfurling
tuberous velvet leaves
and dense webs of fern

Somewhere in sloth
iguana conquers Chac-Mool
draped in stone bowl
life offered barely moving
drunk with light and heat
its reticular lid ticks

Somewhere in sound
a whisper pressed from lips
to ancient limestone
screams the sacrifice
of triumph the paradox
of ball court's distant echo

Somewhere in mystery
cool green cenote is
thick with secrets and
littered with bones of
war and death passing
the quiet forever of time

Jach ki'ichpam! A ts'ibtik mayat'aan ti' bey k'iin.
(That's Yucatec Maya for "Very beautiful! You write in the Mayan way (path) of the sun.") --if my Yucatec hasn't become too rusty.

I am going to print this out and hang it on the wall! It brings back a lot of memories
--Xtaabay

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Lauren, your sig line is way too sublte.

Did anyone get that "Last year of dry days" refers to prohibition which ended in 1933 or did ya'll think I was talking about a drought?

By the way, the poem is a blend of fact and fiction. Thanks Poppy for all the stories.

You hate it, don't you? I knew it, it's annoying... Just testing these things...

And yes, you don't need to change that, it's perfectly clear. I agree with Red, though.

 

[Guest]

L.H.'s sig line

You hate it, don't you? I knew it, it's annoying... Just testing these things...

And yes, you don't need to change that, it's perfectly clear. I agree with Red, though.

I don't know... Trying to read it drives me crazy, but somehow I maintain the urge to stare at it. I now understand how cats feel.
--Xtaabay