Post your own thing
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Post your own thing
I'd really like to read it.
The following thing is the shit I wrote yesterday. It's the first thing I write that I really finish and the first thing I write in English. I shouldn't try it in English if I can't even do it in Spanish...
____________________________________
In winter I stroll as
though I had some errands
to run
or someone to meet.
I think of the number
of apples to buy,
of forms to fill out,
of coffees to drink.
But sometimes it's morning, a foreign
morning, and words resound
like an iron gate.
I'm sorry... some sugar
and the music plays on.
'Cause sometimes some hours
after night falls in Castile, I
am left here
with the last sounds of the day.
______________________________________
Now that I reread it's like something is missing... but well, I tried hehe
The following thing is the shit I wrote yesterday. It's the first thing I write that I really finish and the first thing I write in English. I shouldn't try it in English if I can't even do it in Spanish...
____________________________________
In winter I stroll as
though I had some errands
to run
or someone to meet.
I think of the number
of apples to buy,
of forms to fill out,
of coffees to drink.
But sometimes it's morning, a foreign
morning, and words resound
like an iron gate.
I'm sorry... some sugar
and the music plays on.
'Cause sometimes some hours
after night falls in Castile, I
am left here
with the last sounds of the day.
______________________________________
Now that I reread it's like something is missing... but well, I tried hehe
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
...oh how inspiring...here's my reply...
In the dry season I dessicate
as though I had some trace
of essence to deliver
when I know I'll not drink
from that river again.
I shrink from the picture
of oceans run dry
of tides undelivered
of a crackling white sky
But sometimes clouds gather
and a cool wind strikes
like a hammer
and leaves...like a whisper
from a favourite song
and sometimes, a glimmer,
as night falls, a river of stars
serpentine in the sky...then it's gone
and I'm left with just dust for eyes.
edit: 'the river in the sky'
In the dry season I dessicate
as though I had some trace
of essence to deliver
when I know I'll not drink
from that river again.
I shrink from the picture
of oceans run dry
of tides undelivered
of a crackling white sky
But sometimes clouds gather
and a cool wind strikes
like a hammer
and leaves...like a whisper
from a favourite song
and sometimes, a glimmer,
as night falls, a river of stars
serpentine in the sky...then it's gone
and I'm left with just dust for eyes.
edit: 'the river in the sky'
Last edited by blue moon on Sun Sep 18, 2011 12:29 pm; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
...i used your poem as a template...I can't come up with ideas without the inspiration of something lovely like your poem...and it IS the dry season here...the former lily-ponds are now barren and cracked.
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
On his 21st
Adonis worshipped from afar
invited her to the Animal Bar
for a night of revels to cellebrate
his coming-of-age...oh joy, oh great
the prison bed on which they spent
the hours till dawn in wonderment
if it could speak would say 'o naughty'
because you see the she was forty.
Adonis worshipped from afar
invited her to the Animal Bar
for a night of revels to cellebrate
his coming-of-age...oh joy, oh great
the prison bed on which they spent
the hours till dawn in wonderment
if it could speak would say 'o naughty'
because you see the she was forty.
Last edited by blue moon on Sun Sep 18, 2011 1:52 am; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
Reading Moony's replies I am thinking of a chapter in a novel that was written like this:
I am here today
It's a shame that
thinking that she
she didn't came.
should have come.
I am here today
It's a shame that
thinking that she
she didn't came.
should have come.
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
hehehe
Why did I make up those lines among all the lines I could have made up to exemplify the way that chapter was written?
Subconscious betrayal
Why did I make up those lines among all the lines I could have made up to exemplify the way that chapter was written?
Subconscious betrayal
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
I think it is the recurrent in all cultures myth of the woman that never came hehehe
I was just trying to say that I was reading your replies and the former poems alternating the lines of both.
I was just trying to say that I was reading your replies and the former poems alternating the lines of both.
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
...what'll we call it?
In winter I stroll as
In the dry season I dessicate
though I had some errands
as though I had some trace
to run
of essence to deliver
or someone to meet.
when I know I'll not drink
I think of the number
from that river again.
of apples to buy,
I shrink from the picture
of forms to fill out,
of oceans run dry
of coffees to drink.
of tides undelivered
But sometimes it's morning, a foreign
of a crackling white sky
morning, and words resound
But sometimes clouds gather
like an iron gate.
and a cool wind strikes
I'm sorry... some sugar
like a hammer
and the music plays on.
and leaves...like a whisper
'Cause sometimes some hours
from a favourite song
after night falls in Castile, I
and sometimes, a glimmer,
am left here
as night falls, a river of stars
with the last sounds of the day.
serpentine in the sky...then it's gone
and I'm left with just dust for eyes.
In winter I stroll as
In the dry season I dessicate
though I had some errands
as though I had some trace
to run
of essence to deliver
or someone to meet.
when I know I'll not drink
I think of the number
from that river again.
of apples to buy,
I shrink from the picture
of forms to fill out,
of oceans run dry
of coffees to drink.
of tides undelivered
But sometimes it's morning, a foreign
of a crackling white sky
morning, and words resound
But sometimes clouds gather
like an iron gate.
and a cool wind strikes
I'm sorry... some sugar
like a hammer
and the music plays on.
and leaves...like a whisper
'Cause sometimes some hours
from a favourite song
after night falls in Castile, I
and sometimes, a glimmer,
am left here
as night falls, a river of stars
with the last sounds of the day.
serpentine in the sky...then it's gone
and I'm left with just dust for eyes.
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
Seeing it written like that is making me laugh hard
This is my favorite part:
and a cool wind strikes
I'm sorry... some sugar
like a hammer
and the music plays on.
No.
This is my favorite part:
when I know I'll not drink
I think of the number
from that river again.
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
...I like this most...
when I know I'll not drink
I think of the number
from that river again.
(do you know there's a double meaning for number, as in 'grab the stash and roll me a number' ?)
edit: the subconscious betrayal again?
when I know I'll not drink
I think of the number
from that river again.
(do you know there's a double meaning for number, as in 'grab the stash and roll me a number' ?)
edit: the subconscious betrayal again?
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
...pinz...asdf's suggestion...
On Bob Dylan's 65th Birthday On his 21st
A rocker who at sixty five
Adonis worshipped from afar
Is still alive and full of jive
invited her to the Animal Bar
And better yet with every utterance
for a night of revels to cellebrate
Makes ladies' hearts go all a-flutterance
his coming-of-age...oh joy, oh great
Doesn't need an ode or sonnet
the prison bed on which they spent
Or a great big cake with candles on it
the hours till dawn in wonderment
To make it worth his while to rhyme
if it could speak would say 'o naughty'
"Utah" with "me Pa" one more time
because you see the she was forty.
On Bob Dylan's 65th Birthday On his 21st
A rocker who at sixty five
Adonis worshipped from afar
Is still alive and full of jive
invited her to the Animal Bar
And better yet with every utterance
for a night of revels to cellebrate
Makes ladies' hearts go all a-flutterance
his coming-of-age...oh joy, oh great
Doesn't need an ode or sonnet
the prison bed on which they spent
Or a great big cake with candles on it
the hours till dawn in wonderment
To make it worth his while to rhyme
if it could speak would say 'o naughty'
"Utah" with "me Pa" one more time
because you see the she was forty.
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
No, I didn't know number has a double meaning...blue moon wrote:...I like this most...
when I know I'll not drink
I think of the number
from that river again.
(do you know there's a double meaning for number, as in 'grab the stash and roll me a number' ?)
edit: the subconscious betrayal again?
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
Blue moon
I see you make the spoon
ma,
you make the spoonma grow
(Does spoonma mean anything in English?)
I see you make the spoon
ma,
you make the spoonma grow
(Does spoonma mean anything in English?)
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
...nope, don't think so
...sounds like you're channelling this:
Hey diddle diddle,
The Cat and the fiddle,
The Cow jumped over the moon,
The little Dog laughed to see such sport,
And the Dish ran away with the Spoon.
...sounds like you're channelling this:
Hey diddle diddle,
The Cat and the fiddle,
The Cow jumped over the moon,
The little Dog laughed to see such sport,
And the Dish ran away with the Spoon.
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
There's a word in Spanish that sounds similar to spoonma but I don't remember which one
Guest- Guest
Re: Post your own thing
Alright, if you insist, I'll tell you the word: espuma. Yeah, like the espuma in the sea.
Guest- Guest
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