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Post  Guest Sat Sep 17, 2011 8:37 pm

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

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Post  Guest Sat Sep 17, 2011 9:23 pm

...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'


Last edited by blue moon on Sun Sep 18, 2011 12:29 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Post  Guest Sat Sep 17, 2011 9:36 pm

I can't believe you wrote that in two seconds

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Post  Guest Sat Sep 17, 2011 9:39 pm

...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.

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Post  Guest Sat Sep 17, 2011 11:12 pm

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.


Last edited by blue moon on Sun Sep 18, 2011 1:52 am; edited 1 time in total

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Post  Guest Sat Sep 17, 2011 11:44 pm

Post your own thing Smileyvault-cute-big-smiley-animated-025

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Post  Guest Sat Sep 17, 2011 11:50 pm

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.

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Post  Guest Sat Sep 17, 2011 11:52 pm

...ah but i did did did...

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Post  Guest Sat Sep 17, 2011 11:59 pm

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

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Post  Guest Sun Sep 18, 2011 12:06 am

...is that a Jungian question ? Post your own thing Hide

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Post  Guest Sun Sep 18, 2011 12:14 am

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.

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Post  Guest Sun Sep 18, 2011 12:33 am

...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.

Post your own thing Random23

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Post  Guest Sun Sep 18, 2011 1:02 am

lol!

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.

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Post  Guest Sun Sep 18, 2011 1:36 am

...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?

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Post  Guest Sun Sep 18, 2011 1:48 am

...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.

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Post  Guest Sun Sep 18, 2011 7:04 am

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?
No, I didn't know number has a double meaning...

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Post  Guest Sun Sep 18, 2011 11:33 am

...my babel fish just melted...

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Post  Guest Mon Sep 19, 2011 12:35 am

Blue moon
I see you make the spoon
ma,
you make the spoonma grow

(Does spoonma mean anything in English?)

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Post  Guest Mon Sep 19, 2011 12:48 am

...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.

Post your own thing 220px-Hey.diddle.diddle

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Post  Guest Mon Sep 19, 2011 12:58 am

There's a word in Spanish that sounds similar to spoonma but I don't remember which one

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Post  Guest Mon Sep 19, 2011 3:24 am

Alright, if you insist, I'll tell you the word: espuma. Yeah, like the espuma in the sea.

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