Show Us Your Verse

1
a thread for your unfinished, offhand or neglected scraps of poems.

we've got tons of good poets & writers on this board.
they (well, everybody) oughta set down an occasional line
here that's been floating around in their heads with nowhere
in particular to go.

no epic poems, just a line or two or three.
(btw, in any language!)

in the spirit of fair use, it should be clear to you that anyone is welcome to use your lines for whatever, though it'd be nice to give credit where it's due if it ends up in a song or something. could turn into an occasional source of inspiration when you're in a lyrical jam. in any case, an ongoing, collective, often-nonsequiter, mammoth-only-allowable poem thread poem.

i'm thinking it'd be good to avoid comments or keep them to a minimum,
what for the good of da flow & all, but, hey, i'm not your dad.

guess i gotta go first:




subway wind,
i don't wanna have parts
or be a part.
Last edited by jimmy spako_Archive on Thu Jul 03, 2008 6:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Show Us Your Verse

3
I hate free verse
And curse it to the purgatory
Of the lazy and the random
Line
break

Find a rhythm or a meter or
at least a coherent
and consistent trope
you pretentious wannabe
diarist*




*Walt Whitman, all is forgiven because you are so sexy
You had me at Sex Traction Aunts Getting Vodka-Rogered On Glass Furniture

Show Us Your Verse

7
I wrote this in about '86. Not free verse though.

A fiddler man of some reknown
Had played his songs each night
For forty years and more he'd played
And tried to make it right
The children used to gather round
And dance with youthful glee
But now he plays alone because
The kids have MTV

Show Us Your Verse

10
Ty Webb wrote:I hate free verse
And curse it to the purgatory
Of the lazy and the random
Line
break

Find a rhythm or a meter or
at least a coherent
and consistent trope
you pretentious wannabe
diarist*




*Walt Whitman, all is forgiven because you are so sexy


Rhyming
-is
damned
cliche-
best
leave it
to
the past
and
the
elderly

no sense
in writing
like
you're on stage
in drag
going-
through
the
motions
of a
million past poets

use your own
words,
and
throw caution
to the wind,
stop rhyming-
it's contrived bullshit.

[this poem sucks, but you get my drift.]
Marsupialized wrote:I want a piano made out of jello.
It's the only way I'll be able to achieve the sound I hear in my head.

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