Young Writers Society

First time ever...this should be as linguistic as pasta in water...

Threads of golden light

Who said that poetry must symbolize something?
Could it not be the gentle summer breeze
That wafts through the supple green leaves?

Who said that poetry must have a theme?
Could it not be the beat of wings
Towards the azure sky?

Who said that poetry must be written out in words?
Could it not be the song of your heart
Locked away on a golden thread?

Who said that poetry is poetry?
Could it not be?
The golden irises of a feline cat?

Laure, I love this one! Especially some of these lines. They're brilliant! Keep posting! <3

D'awwww, thanks Scar. I read yours and that was pretty awesome too!

Lots of questions, but strong imagery, yes. c: Keep going!

Linguistic coldness

Sharp shafts of autumn wind drifted across the empty pavement
Picking up trails of amber and orange leaves, light as pixies
I stood by the corner, an intruder upon a hidden world
And felt
That the linguistic coldness had ceased my heart
And turned it to the ethereal wisps of autumn wind.

(Well, I have no idea what I just wrote....)

Special dedication: To my grandpa, whom placed joy and love in my childhood. I love you.

Clockwork angel

I remember your smile
Crinkled around the edges
As you pushed me up
Towards the azure, cloudless sky
In that moment of joy
You were my angel

I remember your hands
Sinewy with the march of time
But you were able to
Fashion the most delicate paper star,
In hues of indigo, violet and rose
And as the star dangled above my eyes
You were my Sirius

I remember your eyes
A rich, dark chocolate brown
That chuckled and smiled
As I toddled towards you
Mumbling words of candies and toys
Eyes that twinkled in delight
As I fell into your waiting arms

And though now, you cannot push my high up into the star
Nor fold paper stars and trinkets
Though I will lose you to that inevitable abyss
With each tick and tock

You will always be my
Clockwork angel
Ingraining your love in my heart
With each tick and tock

Chocolat

Is Easter again

As the season of Chocolat comes round again

I find happiness, not only in the bittersweet cocoa

But also amidst the crinkles

Of Cadbury wrappers

My rabbit scratched me

You see, one day.

We had a discussion about scars.

And the origin of them.

'I sliced myself with a metal ruler.' One said, a glorious two inch scar crawling up their arm.

'I fell out of a window and crushed on my arm.' Said another, as they proudly gestured to the centipede on their wrist.

'What about you?' The final one asked, gesturing to a thick, bunched-up tissue across my thigh.

'Oh,' I said, 'my rabbit scratched me.'

Laure - linguistic pasta intrigues me so much, I want to write a poem revolving around what that could mean o.o Do you take/are interested in linguistics, because I totes am as well! We should totes chat it up one day.

Threads - I love your word choices, supple, irises - very nice to the tongue!
Linguistic- ooo, there's definitely some nice crisp imagery in this one.
Clockwork - This one is my favorite <3 It is very genuine/sincere and I can feel the emotions

Your rabbit poem has a strange whimsy to it, but...

I fell out of a window and crushed on my arm.' Said another, as they proudly gestured to the centipede on their wrist.

THIS LINE <3 GAH! <3

Keep it coming

@Audy, aww, thank you. xD

Linguistic Pasta

This is what linguistic Pasta

Should look like, my dears.

You've seen penne, pici and Pellizzoni

And Cencioni, Campanelle and Corzetti

But have you seen

Linguistic pasta?


You see, it has a rather special form

It takes on the form

Of your thoughts into food

Do you see? This poem ?

This is linguistic pasta.

Do you see your fingers?

The curves and the edges

The creases and the indentations?

Those are also linguistic pasta.


.....Pasta....

^ That's gotta be the worst poem I've ever written in my life.

False

Why do you accuse me?

When

I have not committed this act?

Why

Must you make my tears fall

By making these

FALSE accusations..