EXERCISE National Poetry Month 2016: April 6

Discussion in 'REFINING WRITING' started by RiverNotch, Apr 5, 2016.

  1. Again, the rule is you've got to write something on the topic or form described, with yer poems being in different posts. And that month thing -- prompts'll stop by April 30.

    TODAY'S TOPIC: "Weeded would like to see a poem inspired by the euphoria of the first time you do something (sex, love, drugs, poetry) or possibly inspired by the longing for recapturing that feeling of the first time"
    FORM: Any
    LINE REQUIREMENTS: 8 lines or more

    Credit where it's due; the idea and the prompts come from this site:
    Poetry Forum - - Post poetry, get feedback, give critique.
     
  2. Storms Outside of Thebes

    The first moments of the hate were in long time making,
    Too much like the princes Eteocles and Polyneices,
    They were cursed by fate to take in, raking,
    For a ranking rating by the fairest spring flower,
    Forever from each other taking.

    He sits in the Thebes he won and smiles,
    (Well she was his from the beginning, he knows)
    Begging to begin anew, but not with bitter taste,
    Bitter touch, bitter haste, but with brows
    Not furrowed at their first sight, but at why they weren't friends from the beginning.
     
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  3. Hey, I like that one! although your last line might need a bit of cleaning up -- and I do wonder when the Creon comes in ;). Anyway, here's mine, which has been since yesterday's a-makin'.

    UNDER THE HIJAB

    The first time leaves
    no subtleties of truth,
    only desire -- fear -- then a trace
    of vital memory.

    I saw that morning
    in the heart of a summer wood
    what glows behind the veil,

    brighter than the golden stars and leaves
    traced upon the purple -- not sex,
    which the Prophet says would have struck me blind,

    but a substitute more vital -- and I found myself
    lost in the passage of the woodbird
    and the mosquito.

    How many songs have I written?
    How many hearts have I broken?
    only to recapture that same moment,
    that same stolen sight of golden hair
    and ivory tower neck, then leave
    still starving --

    there is no second time.
     
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