Topic ID: 10994
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Fand
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 Posted: Sat Dec 30, 2006 11:19 pm Post subject: |
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- in the smell of my best friend's cologne
- in the play of light across Manhattan, as seen from the thirteenth floor
- in the play of light beneath the trees
- in the grass on the hill behind the student union
- in how picky he is about what photographs of himself are shared with others, no matter how adorable he is
- in how he gets angry when I'm dubious about the sincerity of compliments I receive from others
- in a sleeping cat
- in eavesdropped conversations
- in 2 AM phone calls
- in silence and solitude
- in the death of a president
- in the majesty of a lit monument in inverse silhouette against the night
- in the sound of bells
- in the portraits of strangers |
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A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep. |
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hprules13
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| Posted: Fri Feb 02, 2007 3:33 am Post subject: |
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- in the woods in winter among the bare trees
- in the sunset I can see when I walk down the road behind my house
- in the things I see out the bus window on the way to school every morning
- in empty school hallways
- in the air on Christmas Eve
- in the mountains on hikes with my dad
- in the view I see from the fire tower when we get to the top of said mountain |
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extrastapled
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| Posted: Fri Feb 02, 2007 7:13 am Post subject: |
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- in walking late at night, when the moon is full and the skies are clear, and dried leaves whisper secrets for your ears alone...
- in the bottom of the bottle of a 40 you just shared with your best friend because neither of you has any money to get anything better, but you had your $3.08 and your nice spot under the tree by the crick...
- in the patterns in the paint on your living room ceiling while your sister plays video games and your brothers fight over the computer...
- in life |
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Zen
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| Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 4:13 am Post subject: |
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In the green leaves and thorny brambles, and the way they entwine around the teal fence trapping me in.
In the paper lantern dangling from the beam overhead, in all its redness and golden light.
In the warmth of the keyboard going “click, click, click” under my fingertips. |
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Jetman123
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| Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 11:53 am Post subject: |
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Between the lines in a book, where I find the strength to go on, almost as if the author of the book that inspired me is lifting my spirits him or herself.
In the warmth of my room when I'm hit by insomnia in the middle of the night, and begin to slowly type, gradually getting faster and faster and playing out a million different outcomes in my head but not caring so long as I'm writing...
In the deepest depths of my own thoughts as I wander aimlessly, thinking about everything that has taken place... or will, jumping from one thought to the next, endlessly evading me as I pursue it, frustrating me time and time again as my hands grasp at it's trail... only to erupt into triumpth as I finally catch it and dash back to my comfortable perch on my bed to once again begin writing. |
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Leja
Slightly more inclined to writing than previously
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| Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 10:25 pm Post subject: |
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- in the foggy darkness on the way to the bus stop
- in the dark quiet of a moonlit beach
- in the forgotten graveyard on the side of the road
- in the stories of History class
- in the community of English class
- in the camaraderie of my Spanish friends
- in the endless shelves in the university library
- in a trickle at the side of my dirt road after a rainstorm
- in the music from Band class that swirls like mist around the room |
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Sumi H. Inkblot
can divide by zero
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| Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 10:47 pm Post subject: |
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Inspiration lies in the genius of past and present authors coming together to form a brilliant, shining new idea.
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Capitolism is the uneven distribution of wealth.
Socialism is the even distribution of poverty. |
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chocolatechipmuffin
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| Posted: Thu Mar 22, 2007 1:34 am Post subject: |
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-In a blanket of snow in the early morning
-In the silence of the woods
-In the solitude of a race
-In the wonder of the Church
-In the love of friends
-In the sorrow of the Holocaust
-In the beauty of poetry
-In the lonliness of not belonging to a couple |
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"The only winner in the War of 1812 was Tchaikovsky."
~Solomon Short
"We are all of us living in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."
~Oscar Wilde |
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Leja
Slightly more inclined to writing than previously
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| Posted: Mon Apr 02, 2007 5:44 am Post subject: |
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| writing hides in the insomnia of 2am |
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Got YWS? |
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Lancrist
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| Posted: Mon Apr 02, 2007 6:20 am Post subject: |
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- In my head, and it kicked poeticism out.
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Fireweed
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| Posted: Mon Apr 02, 2007 7:00 am Post subject: |
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-In sleepless nights
-In daydreams during math class
-In the brilliance of the winter moon on a clear, frigid night
-In the wisps of fog amongst the Spruce trees
-In the trembling notes of a violin
-In the mournful call of a loon at night in the middle of the Canadian wilderness
- In mythology
-In political debates in the Letters to the Editor
-In bitten pencils and blue-lined notebook paper
Cool thread!  |
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No blinding light
No tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark... |
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Dynamo
Master of Plot Devices
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| Posted: Mon Apr 02, 2007 7:23 am Post subject: |
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-in my closet
-in the fridge
-on a bike
-in the trunk of my car
-at the bottom of a river
-dripping from a knife in large red drops
-in my neighbors stomachs
-in white jackets that bound your arms
-in small rooms where the walls and floor are made of pillows
-inside a courtroom
and finally,
-in the electric chair
Well, that was fun. Good thing they haven't caught me yet. Wait, what does that say? Where Does Writing Hide? Well, that makes more sense!... err, forget I said anything. |
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I have two legs from my hips to the ground,
When I move them they walk around.
When I lift them they climb up stairs,
When I shave them they ain't got hairs. |
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