Author Topic: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language  (Read 69285 times)

Lin

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #15 on: March 31, 2007, 09:18:27 AM »
MWC Lin - Holland


There was pain, such pain
His last journey to the roundabout
We had passed through so many times.
I braked, he fell off the back seat,
I cringed and silence fell
He tried to recover as I carried on driving
He would never know where I was going,
I felt like the ulitimate betrayer.

Our last journey like the man
Who walks the thin green line to his death
There was pain, such pain
Tormented, I reached the traffic lights
Will we never return this way together?
Goodbye sweet brown hairy friend
You cannot go on feeling this way,
I love you, I hope you understand.




« Last Edit: March 31, 2007, 01:55:54 PM by Lin »

Offline Camille17

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #16 on: March 31, 2007, 10:49:24 AM »
Wishing and hoping for something more…
a futile preoccupation.
The SECRET, as many are now discovering,
is “knowing” it is ours, and envisioning as already present
that which we most truly desire.
Who could have imagined the fire
burns inside us all the time
and all we have to do is activate the power
and claim it.  Ain’t life fine!

Offline Bubbles

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #17 on: March 31, 2007, 01:21:21 PM »
MWC. Bubbles. Wales, UK.


I sit quietly, in luxury, or what passes for it,
thanking my angels through salt tears.
Longing for the past and its static reassurance.
I shuffle through the rooms of vanishing scents,
searching him on my intaken breath.
An envelope, hastily opened, the white triangle of a broken corner fallen to the floor
from his desk, the quick last action before he closed the door.
After he'd packed his clothes, after he'd searched for his keys,
he'd seen that letter. 
His fingers touched it, and disgarded it.
I do the same, in fury, it was just junk mail.

I look as I did before, everything appears the same,
and yet he is gone.
His absence has ripped my features, weighty invisibility pulls at my mouth,
I am coated in ennui,
I am covered by grief as thick as black treacle, sticking me to this empty certainty.
He has gone.
Away, to uncertain horizons where other women will hold his hand,
And kiss him and feed him meals I cannot.
To a shiny new job.  To a life just started.
Oh, how I miss him.

I am to start a new life, they say, free from his dictatorship,
Or see the world.
Perhaps it is long overdue, one friend said,
He stayed too long, so this is good,
that he has gone.
But I recall his white fluffed head turning to my voice, how he cried for me, lustily.
In the ancient days when I was his world.

Seven o'clock comes, and the meal is for one,
mechanical TV laughter.
No need for routine, should I walk around naked, or take a lover, or turn his room into a shrine?
Oh, how I miss my son.
« Last Edit: May 28, 2007, 09:18:01 AM by Bubbles »

Offline fordy

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #18 on: March 31, 2007, 07:23:57 PM »
MWC:fordy:NZ

Sons are a heritage from the Lord
So the psalmist said.
I wonder what mine is doing now?
Probably just gone to bed.
But that's sons for you;
wake when you sleep
sleep when you wake.
Odd that.
I was a son once.
« Last Edit: March 31, 2007, 11:29:11 PM by fordy »
If I always do what I always did, I'll always get what I always got.

Offline caliban1

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #19 on: April 01, 2007, 12:51:21 AM »
In contemplation we are one thing
it is what we do that makes us.
One dark night only forty years ago
I met my college roommate just return from Asia.
a young man from Hope, Kansas,
captain in olive drab with  Silver Star
speaking across the table from his empty sleeve.
Two cigarettes burning and his hands shaking.
It was easier for him to hurl the live grenade
out the door of the helicopter
than to meet my pretty young wife
with his face so scarred.
Today he is an honored man,
not one to forget that visit,
so long ago, always fresh in my mind.
It is hard to say what forms a friendship
and makes it last through war and peace,
choices which took him south to Florida,
me beyond the artic circle.
Yes, we are the people unpeeled
by burning in fires of action
or simply eroded by the water of years
playing on some rock of character inside.
For so long only words on paper
kept our souls in tandem
despite waves of change
sending us to poles of distain.
There was in that first shy handshake,
faded by time,  some communion
that has outlasted the upturning of the earth
a thousand times in kaleidoscopic patterns
never imagined in strangest dreams.
After all these years our souls
are pared down to what we are.

As my eyes wander from words on the screen
I wonder how actions so long ago
imprint themselves so clearly
on this sun drenched day in spring.
« Last Edit: April 01, 2007, 12:53:03 AM by caliban1 »
It is all a metaphor.

Offline chillies

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #20 on: April 01, 2007, 03:44:08 AM »
MWC chillies UK

Ah, spring again
How time seems to fly
Seasons merge unnoticed
Without you I feel only winter
When will my summer return?
I cannot know

Lin

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #21 on: April 01, 2007, 04:27:57 AM »
MWC Lin -Zwanenwater Nature Reserve, Holland

There was just one moment a second of thought,
“Sit down” I said “Sit and contemplate
The first day of Spring”
I sat,
I pondered,
I listened,
To the song of the Greenfinch,
A raw scraping sound, mean and territorial.
I felt the Maron Grass, blown westward,
Sprouting from within
The Reindeer Moss.
A day of sun and warm feelings

Seeking birds, I longed for the return
Of the magnificent Bluethroat.
His song, bursting waxlyrical.
I sat,
I waited,
I listened,
Robin sings beside the pool whilst
Blackbird is chased by her beau.
She bows low and runs away,
To the bracken below,
Alarm calling.
He knows where to find her.

Greylag Geese are swimming in the pools,
I count, six, seven, eight nine, ten.
Making notes on species found today
I watched,
I saw,
I wrote,
Oh! Wait!  Just one sound I know so well,
Bluethroat, back from the North,
Such a teasing glimpse.
My chest pounds,
Spring is really here and I'm alive with joy.
« Last Edit: April 02, 2007, 03:41:57 AM by Lin »

Offline Allie

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #22 on: April 01, 2007, 04:57:24 AM »
MWC:Allie:Irl

Yes, spring is here again,
And with it my ambitions
To renew myself.
I have laid out new plans
The way a farmer does his furrows,
And now intend
To plant the seeds
Of my tomorrows.
It all needs patience,
The slow treadmill walk
The calorie-counted days,
But the journey in itself
Is interesting in prospect,
The reaching out towards something
That is surely the essence
Of being human.
I may not be about to turn
The world on its head
Through my vision,
Or discover a cancer cure,
But there is a simple pleasure
To be found in laying out the map
Across the table of my life,
And choosing my own road
To summertime salvation.



Offline Amie

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #23 on: April 01, 2007, 06:41:51 AM »
MWV: Saturnine: UK

like Gyppo, I've been head-hunted;
the same gentle, steady pressure
Post something, post something, add to the poem
We need everyone.

But, what can I say?
I never write about my daily life...
still, this morning I woke, uncharacteristically late
My husband lay, sleeping sweetly still
still smiling in his dreams
and one cat, the baby substitute,
was nestled in my arms.
The other stretched, furry belly exposed
on a make-shift pillow-bed on the ground.
And I was happy, grateful.
It's like Al Zolynas says:
It's the same new gift every day
and I can't believe it
...the same new gift, every day.
Despite the repetition, I am always amazed.
« Last Edit: April 01, 2007, 01:19:32 PM by Saturnine »
"You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet." - Kafka

Offline Bubbles

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #24 on: April 01, 2007, 07:19:30 AM »
MWC. Bubbles. Wales, UK.

The same, the same, always the same.
Tread the known steps with wearisome feet and greet
The sure morning.
For it is always present, our sleep but plays hide and seek
With the light.
Touchstone for our darkness, sublime new day.
All around newly born, our slumber ebbs and living beckons
us to worship.
Disgard the blindness, tear away the ailment, scourge your senses.
Purge the scab of detachment.
Hush, Lark is talking to the wind, mountains sing
siren songs of the ages.
Beaded grass a-whisper with spiders' webs rest underfoot, glistening.
The butter sun in majesty arises, her prism servant beams bestowing
Jewels on the land.
The salmon sky departing as Sapphire takes her hand.
And a soul with blinkered eyes watches.

Offline Johnorman

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #25 on: April 01, 2007, 08:18:09 AM »
MWC:Johnorman. NZ

I leap involuntarily
As the salmon at the gurgling
Frothing foot of the rushing weir
Anxious to comply with the insistent
Call that more than I have is yet to be
That much I know while all else is unproven
I flick to the junction where stream bows to gravity
Missing the point again would be tragedy perhaps for me
Not being normal is great.

Offline SweetRosalyn

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #26 on: April 01, 2007, 08:28:21 AM »
MWC: SweetRosalyn: Wales, UK

I watched on Saturday
Tears bubbling over like the blood
that's seeped for sixty days now,
watched her shake as platitudes lined
her stained knickers.

I watched on Sunday
a green screen that blurred the world
and shook a finger at me,
that said 'she's dying' as I made glasses
of whiskey and vodka and ale
for old men, and smiled as
barmaid of the year.

I watched on Monday
as she rocked back and forth
on the floor, with her firstborn son
on her lap, redirecting tributaries
from his sight, and aching
for the waters that had washed away
her hope.
[the baby still lives.]

I watched on Tuesday
holding the hand of her husband
who spoke through a fetus
lodged in his throat,
as the nurses said one day
or two days
or ten
And one in five chances echoed
through the room
[the baby still lives
in her tightening womb]

I watched on Wednesday
as five became twenty
as the flood became worse
and they said it had started:
her baby was gone
[the baby still lives
sent forth a placenta
as a gift to her mother]

I watched on Thursday
as they still heard her heartbeat
still waved her hand on the screen.
Her mother grew blurry, unfocussed,
uncertain, saw the world through
long syllables that ran through her veins.
Her husband grew bolder,
hung onto the words
[the baby still lives
our baby still lives]

I watched on Friday
as they talked of two weeks
two weeks and she'll make it
she'll crawl through in red.
(they tried not to think
of the shape of her head.)
My best friend informed me
she wished she was dead.
[but her baby still lives]

I watched on Saturday
tears boiled out
like the daughter inside her
as she walked from the hospital door.
And I'll watch her tomorrow
And I'll watch her on Monday
And I'll watch when she stands
by the side of the grave
with a headstone as big as the coffin.
I'll watch as she cries
for this unfinished person;
her baby;
Amber Margaret Pierson.
« Last Edit: April 01, 2007, 09:16:45 AM by SweetRosalyn »
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Lin

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #27 on: April 01, 2007, 09:56:59 AM »
MWC Lin - Holland

Her baby son is listening to the song of the sea,
Ear to the shell that sends him messages from Mummy
The rain is coming
The herring gull is mewing
Dogs are tugging at sea weed
And barking glee to passers by.
Enchantment

Where is she now? What does she say?
The wind is warm with just a gentle bite.
Whilst children play in Cornish seas,
We turn to Sally Port and head for home.
The child ,shell to his ear,  still listening,
To the whisper of sound within
Hope


Along the road to Hugh Town the ship has sailed,
Peace prevails along the once busy street,
The child carries his prize
The shell, means more to him
Than just a message,
Assurance that soon he will see his mother again.
Satisfaction





« Last Edit: April 02, 2007, 03:44:45 AM by Lin »

Offline caliban1

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #28 on: April 01, 2007, 12:13:43 PM »
Our poem is the quilt of life
together we weave the story of this world.
For those who sing in fresh spring
we celebrate and dance free footed.
With those others who face
the sorrow of ongoing being
we weep awhile feeling the enternal drama
and our presense in the joy of strife.
It is all a metaphor.

Offline Allie

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #29 on: April 02, 2007, 03:31:44 AM »
MWC:Allie:Irl

Yes, the dramas of our lives
Seem to be repeated over.
We always work the same quilt
With slightly different patches.

When I was a little girl
My mother would answer the door
To find the Half-a-crown Woman
Standing there.
She always asked for the same thing,
A half-a-crown to tide her over.
I hated my mother being so mean
Sending her off empty-handed.

It wasn’t till years later
I found she had diddled my mother
Who, young and short of money herself
Had fallen for her story.
She was well-known as a begging ass,
For never returning her borrowings,
Some people work, said my mother,
And some live off others.

Now I’m a grown-up woman
When I switch on my PC each day
The Half-a-crown Woman’s children
Are queing up to talk to me.
My loan request has been approved,
Just fill in a simple form,
Or check my Barclays bank account
And send the number on.

There’s dodgy software from Verna
With moneybak guaranty,
While Mr Buba Diallo
Wants an urgent word with me,
It seems he’s got millions waiting
In an African bank somewhere
If only I will kindly stash for him
A hundred million more.

Whatever the advances
In technology or science,
It seems that nothing changes,
In human nature’s design.
« Last Edit: April 02, 2007, 03:44:53 AM by Allie »