The Poetry Game

[Rhisper]

I really like the Words forum, but the traffic here seems somewhat dismal. I suspect that a possible cause is the difficulty of commenting on other people's poems. A lot of the threads posted here are poems, and I know that I find it difficult to criticize other people's poetry, because it's such a personal thing. So a lot of the comments on other people's work get reduced to the usual "good work, keep it up." That's not anyone's fault, it's just the nature of the beast. However, perhaps we can generate a sustained commentary by keeping the poems flowing in one thread.

The premise is simple: Write a poem or rhyme which interacts with, comments on, criticizes, or builds upon the work of the previous poster. If you would like to comment upon more than one poem in one post, just quote both/all the poems you are reacting to. I'm hoping we can get a real cool flow going on here, where each poem in the thread is connected, lattice-like, to every other poem.

I'll start it off.

Wanderlust

Everything suffered, a blessing
Not in disguise but in reprise;
We see love and revise
Each spied detail, stressing
Disconsolate inconsistencies
To smooth out the wrinkles
Which each petty lie belies
As smooth, shallow seas.
Rather, the ocean is rough!
But when we’ve had enough,
Our love will then unfurl;
We’ll follow the rays’ curl
Upon the water, and lust -
For the Eye will move above us.

 

[ShapeShifter77]

i really like this idea
and your poem



so when a blessing removes it's veil,
don't let innocence go stale,
cause if the ocean is a prison,
then we don't know what we're missin',
so we're sailin' under bridges burnin',
to pass the mad mice and vermin,
while the shadow of a vulture,
looms and lingers on our culture
"is that God or an airplane?"
i say "either one is fair game"

either one is fair game

 

[lostNfound]

great idea



God or an airplane?

apples and oranges
compare you cannot

seen or unseen
you know what i mean

anything suffered
only locked in a cupboard
hidden from view
hidden from you

do you know hold the key
without the key
forever locked away
remains the day

for it is the day
that in the sun resides
and when the suns rays shine forth
nothing is suffered

 

[Mehm]

def a good idea, I'll contribute in due time

 

[BayoFiyo]

there's nothing that you can't compare with the proper twist,
like the real and unreal as they both exist.
there's nothing locked away so we won't see,
just our souls "they" close and throw away the key.

you know who and where they are
and where it's not, if you know thus far.
If you can stand the fetid funk,
the key lies buried deep 'neath the junk.

the stench, you'll find, lasts a lifetime
expanding eternally with each line you rhyme.
oh, what a price some must pay
just to see the sun light the day.

 

[New]

The darkness sheathes what we must find
The weather makes it most unkind
To suggest the world in my palm
Is visibly with aplomb

Harrowing blizzards block our path
Sheltered until the aftermath
The only key I currently see
Locks the stormdoor to protect me

 

[Pez]

Sheltered from the bitter storm, a little farm boy looks forlorn
We mustn't leave his mother says, but reason why's above his head
He looks outside where she sees cold and fright and danger, her eyes old
With disappointment, loss and fears, but love as well from many years.

Instead he sees the magic lost to parents, elders, in the frost
The drops are dancing, falling free, "The snow like jewels they call to me.
Harder now, and harder fast, a bright white blanket 'cross the path
Would surely to another hide, the things I see from here inside.

The crashing blows, the thundered whips of tree trunks cracked with tides that tip.
There's monsters, Gods wage war and knights protect the things worth fighting for.
The path now white with icy dark, the path of justice? Nay, but hark
I hear the winter's calling me. The path's adventure! Now I see!

Protect me no more from the war, I know what lies beyond the door.
No longer need you shelter me." Yet still his mother holds the key.

 

[lyrrad85z]

the eye of the Maker
unseen now and disapointed later
we unravel through time
personal travels sub-divine
forever mountains we climb
seldom consious of greater
frequenting the mind of the hater
walk in the mist
never to fly
marked on the list
the great By and By

 

[psycosynthesis]

The eye of the maker
Was filled with the sand
That he dragged from the ocean
before he shaped man
who imprisoned that
grit of perception
into time.

 

[Pez]

Standing atop a dune
at the enchanting cherry pink of sundown,
I stare across the sea of sand
and a tear touches my eye to think,
I'm making all of this up... And soon,
when the horizon no longer wears his fiery crown,
a tender tide pulls on my mind, my eyes close and
my feet begin to sink.

 

[Rhisper]

I've been called unearthly unreal,
determined to demand standard abstractions,
withheld from my own prophetic perceptions,
settling on a self-satisfied assumption
to uncleanse the unreal.

 

[fuckalfa]

Real is real, and spirit is (ethe)real just the same.
I mind heavenly things but life's still my game;
Dressing this Exquisite Corpse in a surplice
Wondering if loss of life is a fair price
For the immanent insight never really revealed
But for snatches and death-throes and demoniac squeals

I am the sensualist par excellence, Descartes' nightmare
A well-inked tabula rasa, with Providence working upon me
And if the blank page has been scribbled on too many times
That might explain my lack of co-ordination.