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Random Poetry, everybuggy
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Random Poetry, everybuggy
Random Poetry, everybuggy!
And no, this isn't "Dancing clocks singing with the purple pea flowers!" random. This poetry is simply where you type the first things that come out of your head and make it a poem. Here's mine:
Ink Splotches
bit too late
in the moonlit evening
to be singing
alone
in the red room
Isn't it random? And yes, those were the first things that popped in my head. It's really weird, but it makes sense somehow. I like that.
Post your random poems!
submitted by WritingWarrior, age ???, Nowheresville
(July 24, 2011 - 11:03 am)
(July 24, 2011 - 11:03 am)
So we just use the first word that pops into our heads and write a poem about it? Sure. Okay.
...Or do you mean just type random sentence fragments and try to make Art out of it? ...
...I'll do one of both, how's that?
*
So for the first one: "Cemetery" popped into my head.
The tangled weeds and dying grass
clutch at vigilant moon-bathed stones.
Six feet below the guests interred
and given no cause for distress,
rest instead in earthly embrace.
One still living footfall grinds
the gravel graveyard path beneath
its elegant and sharp-toed boot.
Soft voices murmur their greetings,
faces shrouded by midnight mist,
their endless dance begins anew
*
And for the next one... let's see...
Daybreak falls, a curse
like sweet may flowers
or the rainbow after the rain;
the old curtains drawn
and broken shutters closed
to guard against the light,
organ whines underground,
spiders weave elegant webs,
floorboards creak and moan
in an ancient house drenched with night.
*
Um. Yes.
...I feel I should point out that I'm listening to the 1991 Addams Family soundtrack and have been for a few hours now, so the weird macabre-ness isn't my fault.
(July 24, 2011 - 5:02 pm)
*poke*
Also, "May" should be capitalized in the second one. Like the month. This is what happens if I don't review my posts a hundred gajillion times.
(July 24, 2011 - 6:32 pm)
Those were beautiful! :):):):):) And yes, you can either write fragments or do the title thing.
Here's another:
~~~~~~~~~~~
Dust gathering
Beneath plaid-curtained windows
Mix it up in your mother's best cooking pot
And feed it to starry skies
Twinkling above the apartment windows
That lurk on the building
That is covered in a shawl of graffitti
Let the residents be treated
To the presence of dust in their home.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh my. That was...random. We have strange minds. (And for some reason, all my random poetry is about night....????)
(July 24, 2011 - 7:00 pm)
The new day came
She still wished it hadn't
For new days brought
new horrors.
Sorry, that's pretty much just my normal writing with more lines. And I think I've been reading too much dark HP fanfics. But... Ha! That wasn't about night! It was about morning. :P Now something that might actually count as poetry.
The weeds choked up the pretty flowers
Good riddance
Their beauty was misplaced
Therefore, unwelcomed
Urg. That wasn't that good. My excuse is that I'm really sleepy.
(July 24, 2011 - 9:38 pm)
I actually really like the cadence of the first one.
Word: Snake
*
Scales scour frigid stones,
the hiss pierces air
as the shrouded heir
stands arrogant at
his throne. Closed eyes,
the call of blood ties,
undeniable.
The snake heeds, slithers
through rusted, slimy
pipes to perform its
ancient fatal crimes.
*
Aand I've been working on my TMR fanfiction, can you tell? ((I started over again because TMR v. 2 was Not Sociopathic Enough. It's better now though. /off topic))
Move along now, nothing to see here.
(July 24, 2011 - 10:54 pm)
I like your last one, Olive. :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Red velvet
Lies in thin strips across a cutting board
Small snippet
Mailed in her blue envelopes
Covered in doodles of the roses
In her yard
Deep in the woods
He finds a blue envelope
And remembers a game of croquet
On a rainy Sunday afternoon
~~~~~~~~~~
Hmm. I liked that.
(July 25, 2011 - 7:27 am)
This is getting adictive....
`````````````````````
When your purple roller skates
Zoom by Hule Street
You can take the left turn by the shade trees
And stop at my house.
We'll take a cold sip of water
Out of the animal cups
And bask in the sunlight by the dandelions
said the spider to the fly.
``````````````````````
That was....creepy...
Spammy says fbfb. FACEBOOK?!? SPAMMY IS GETTING SUCKED IN! NOOOO!
(July 25, 2011 - 11:40 am)
This looks fun! I'll try it:
Word: Promise.
Poem:
The promise of a lifetime,
Broken,
Shattered at my feet.
Dreams of a future,
Crushed,
Vanished like so many pieces of a rainbow.
The desperate wings of hope,
Stilled,
Drowned in the darkness of despair
And nothing left
But tears
(July 25, 2011 - 12:00 pm)
Here's mine, even though it's not super random.
word: Spider/spiderweb
Poem:
The delicate strands
of lace,
Strung up in the corner
behind a blue vase.
Eight dainty strands
for legs,
Help walk these highwires
each and every day.
Notice the perfect
details,
That are used when making
such a masterpiece.
(July 25, 2011 - 3:04 pm)
Drums
Out from the mists of time it comes
rolling through the world it comes
twisting swirling
heartbeat of the world
time that counts the beats
as motes of dust hang in the air
thudding thumping pounding breaking
waves upon the human shores
breaking wasting
war of beats
of of pounds
thundering through the eons
wrestling emotions
calling to anger
stirring to tears
beautiful and terrible
that primeval sound
that haunting sound
the sound of
drums
Heres amother one on hope.
hope
a tiny glistening life eggshell thin walls of human
ineptitude
anger hate
and tears
straining at the fetters
the chains of the body
of the mind
the soul tries to break free
like that note of perfect harmony
that floats upon the glistening air
a myriad of sounds that calm and
bring the soul back to the light
like the tiniest breath aof wind
a zephyr upon the raging world that twists and bends
and changes the world
but eggshell thing walls break
and the prison
not a prison a ward
a protection
is shattered and the life is left to die
and the musical note
the manna from heaven to the senses
the abrosia to the soul
dies out
leaving an empty space
in the world
and the breath of life
is buffeted until
it ias enveloped by the harsh and cruel
the cold the bitter
winds
and succumbs to them
and becomes them
but hope does not break
assimilate with the world
will not die
for like the eggshell walls
the hatred and anger shelters them
and because tears and listlesness exist
there is hope
(July 28, 2011 - 1:23 pm)
Nick, are you new?
(July 28, 2011 - 7:36 pm)
Kindof yeah why?
(July 29, 2011 - 6:58 am)
Just wondering. I don't think I've seen you before.
(July 29, 2011 - 3:13 pm)
Yeah, I don't usually do Inkwell.
(July 29, 2011 - 4:48 pm)
You're one of the best authors on here, Nick.
(July 30, 2011 - 11:07 am)