Author Topic: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language  (Read 73674 times)

Offline caliban1

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #75 on: April 17, 2007, 12:07:15 AM »
Wandering here in a forest of imagination,
we can by mysterious happenstance trail
into a real forest inhabited by unreal characters,
such as the mad mechanic with his crock pot
of chicken simmering in the shop,
while we walk across wet spring fields
carrying three cans of Alberta Draft
to wild haired Cameron Einstein who lives above.
Since I am out to pick Trillium in the woods
for my lady love. We all go tramping out
through swamp and blackberry brambles
onto the horse trail hacked out with machetes,
taking us by birch and fir, cedar, hemlock and plentiful alder.
On the forest floor green curled ferns turn up,
and small purple monkshood begins to unfold.
As the mad mechanic said it is a whole different world
and I am wondering why these two bizarre friends
and a shy twenty year old French girl are all
who come out here in the woods to pick flowers.
It makes no more sense than the rhythm of moods,
with a grim and self murdering darkness in the early morning
becoming a dizzy dancing joy with the sentients of afternoon.
In all of this there is no pattern of discernable meaning,
but we are carrying on forward with the hope of all eternity.
Remembering always that it is better to laugh with the cosmos
than to lie wailing in sorrow in the darkness of the glen.


« Last Edit: April 17, 2007, 10:30:42 PM by caliban1 »
It is all a metaphor.

Leigh

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #76 on: April 18, 2007, 02:42:23 PM »
MWC: Leigh, USA

One humid evening years ago,
we stole into the sigh of darkness,
hand in hand, past the bedtime.
On an itchy blanket,
we laid against the plaid,
and lost our sight to fathoms
of stars, pinning us to the earth.
We felt the rush of aeons
diminish our id. We spun
beneath the cold cold void.
I felt your tremor.
When I asked why, you whispered
your secret fear-
of gravity releasing you,
off the orb into the night.
Last night I lifted groceries
and, passing to my door,
I tried but could not resist
the pull- I turned my gaze
to the yawning heavens,
shot with cold fire.
I see you there, my sister
upon the velvet canvas
falling forever into
eternity.
« Last Edit: April 18, 2007, 04:17:58 PM by Leigh »

Lin

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #77 on: April 19, 2007, 02:01:27 AM »
Lin - EXPERIENCES IN HOLLAND

I miss my hills and mountain sides
The land  in which I live works perfectly
In Harmony with tulips, dijkes
And greenest grass.
A canvas of Rembrant,
Vincent and Franz Hals,
A place of numerous museums,
Tall ships and fishing boats.

But, there is something comforting
About hills. They fold around you
Like Grandma used to do
On a Sunday afternoon visit.
They kiss you when you reach
The top of Great Gable
And Blencathra when you follow
In the wake of Wainwright's footsteps

I cannot stand above a town
Looking down to coastline from above
I cannot sit and ponder by a tarn,
My comfort zone has been flattened
Engineered by years of building dijkes
Men wearing clogs and dressing their
Windmills toward the cold North Sea
Im coming home soon to see it all again
« Last Edit: April 22, 2007, 09:45:06 AM by Lin »

Offline Allie

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #78 on: April 21, 2007, 03:21:58 PM »
MWC:Allie:Irl

I feel a little lost today,
As if my mind were away somewhere
Wandering in a unfamiliar forest
With no comforting landmarks
To guide me safely home.
I suppose we all get days like this
When we are strangers even to ourselves,
And the world is full of goblins and witches
And dragons in caves.
It is the mythical uncertainty that underlies
The apparent reality of our normal hours,
The realisation that perhaps 
All may not be as it seems,
But suddenly the shadows on the wall
Cast by the leaping flames
Seem to hold a message for me
Of a strange time to come.
« Last Edit: April 21, 2007, 03:28:41 PM by Allie »

Lin

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #79 on: April 22, 2007, 09:53:32 AM »
Lin - more from North Holland, The Netherlands


A strange time indeed
Is Sunday afternoon,
Lazy Sunday? Oh no!
A day of garden centres,
New plants
And gardening projects.


All is not as it seems,
Holland has come alive
With coloured stripes.
Farmers stand alone
In fields
That were once green

We all get days like these,
Germans stop by the road
Taking photos of tulips.
They are amazed.
Coloured stripes
Instead of cauliflowers and wheat





« Last Edit: April 22, 2007, 12:51:25 PM by Lin »

Offline Allie

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #80 on: April 24, 2007, 07:00:15 PM »
MWC:Allie:Irl

Whole days like these
Pass as if unnoticed,
Unwritten and unmarked
By strange or cataclysmic events,
Days of contentment or endurance
But not especially joyful or sad.
They have been full of hours
That have each been full of separate moments,
Each one lived consciously but not recalled.
Only the births and deaths
And holidays and tragedies
Are recorded in labelled mental files.
Whole days pass as if unnoticed,
Yet it has not really been so.
Each moment has left its signature
In a cell somewhere,
And in the growing grass
And the constantly changing sky.
If we could interpret the message it has left us
We could read the history and the meaning
Of our lives.
« Last Edit: April 24, 2007, 07:02:30 PM by Allie »

Offline wildlegends

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #81 on: April 25, 2007, 09:24:06 AM »
MWC:wildlegends:UK

I was born to live and live I must
’Till eons of time turn body to dust.
To live is to suffer, to relish a death
And pray to the gods that you draw your last breath.
To live is to suffer, pay pleasure with pain
And curse all the fools who claim to be sane.
Then turn in the evening and look to the west
And feel your heart aching for death in your breast;
Then wake in the morning and gaze to the east
And see ’gainst the sun the dread of the beast.
Image of black on bloodied field,
Image of torment that never can yield
While echoing, ancient screams unfold,
Lost tales of dread and horror untold
Save when in darkness they’re portrayed
In dreams of love long since betrayed.   
« Last Edit: April 25, 2007, 10:53:47 AM by wildlegends »

Offline paramour

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #82 on: April 25, 2007, 04:56:12 PM »
MWC: paramour:USA

Tulip Time in Michigan -
what a time to be alive!
The temperatures are warming up,
and the skies are blue and clear.

The crocus push their pointy heads
out of the frozen earth,
unfurling their purple and yellow coats
the most colourful around!

Next to rise are the Narcissus -
Daffodils the common name.
Buttery, bright and pink these days -
not just yellow anymore.

Finally the tulips reign
the royalty of the season.
Every colour of the rainbow seen,
the cooler temperatures work their magic.

Reds as deep as the richest blood,
Whites and creams and blues.
Blushes of pink, violet and green,
flames of orange, and black as night.

So, curse if you will the winter days
when the snow and bitter winds blow;
If not for this lull and rest for the bulbs,
they simply would not bloom.
« Last Edit: April 25, 2007, 05:20:46 PM by paramour »
~paramour.

Offline Gyppo

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #83 on: April 25, 2007, 07:05:44 PM »
MWC:  Gyppo  UK

So curse if you will the cold Winter days,
when the waggon ruts are frozen like iron,
and you have to break ice to water your horse
and long before dawn you're all woken
by the muskero (the copper)
with a sheet in his hand,
full of words,
but you don't have the readin'.
So he spells it all out, and it's time to move on
because some nervous gauje's been bleatin'.

So you harness the horse then struggle
to break the cold iron rims from the mud,
and your shoulders are raw
as you heave at the waggon,
and the kids are all wailin' and weepin'.
And the muskero looks on,
sixteen stone of hard brawn,
well fed and well rested
but not interested
in muddying his hands on the wheel.

But later that year you awake before dawn,
just turned three am, it's already too warm,
It's barely three hours since you went to bed
with the music and tales still filling your head.
You forget the cold winters,
the starve belly time,
it's Appleby Fair, the whole tribe is here,
with horses to sell and chop tacho.
With boxing an' courting and straight dealin' too
it's a time to be thankful for livin'.

Gyppo

(Glossary:  Gauje = Non-Gypsy
                   Chop  =  Swap
                   Tacho = True/Honest
My website is currently having a holiday, but will return like the $6,000,000 man.  Bigger, stronger, etc.

In the meantime, why not take pity on a starving author and visit my book sales page at http://stores.lulu.com/gyppo1

Offline chillies

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #84 on: April 26, 2007, 04:05:47 AM »
MWC:  chillies UK

Living, is that what you call it?
More like existing.
One day fades into another.
Weeks turn into months,
and then into years.
I still remain in the same state,
not progressing - not moving on.
I am a statue:
I see the world, I grow old with time,
but I am unable to connect.

Offline paramour

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #85 on: April 26, 2007, 01:54:49 PM »
MWC: paramour:USA

I woke up this morning
and looked into the mirror.
I saw a woman
where a girl should be.

Though the hair is grayer
and the lines are deeper,
the smile is more vibrant
and shines through the eyes.

The smile has gained
sentinels at the corners,
to guard against the blues.
Hope springs eternal.

I am alive.
~paramour.

Offline Johnorman

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #86 on: April 27, 2007, 12:40:15 AM »
Good Lord!
I am still alive.
Impossible I'm . . . mumble, mumble.
With me teeth out.
Kids almost as aged as me.
Looking even older.
Sick of asking how I am.
If my life insurance is paid up.
How much more to pay.
On the house.
Seldom do I tell the truth.
Preferring devilish satisfaction.
Such as keeping them guessing.
Unaware I'm just ahead of.
Bankruptcy.
Penury.
Senility.
Not being normal is great.

Offline Allie

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #87 on: April 29, 2007, 07:39:49 PM »
MWC:Allie:Irl

Today I feel bankrupt of ideas, poor in
Desire to write down my life.
Perhaps it’s a form of senility that makes
Everything around me look the same
As it did yesterday, and the day
Before that. The question is,
Should I write, no matter that what I write
Might not amount to anything much?
Should the act of writing something, anything
Down, be a simple one of defiance
Undertaken in the face of mundanity?
Who says that only the perfect piece
Has the right to be called poetry? Surely
The recording of a world that is imperfect
Would be better done through a poem
That is itself imperfect? Would the words then
Not more truly reflect it back to itself?

nassj

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #88 on: April 30, 2007, 03:20:36 AM »
MWC:Candy:Scotland

It's three weeks since my fingers danced,
put words to screen, my mind in trance.
Now they have a differant chore,
that crackes my skin, dry and sore.
A saviour, I know, is on the way,
my hands will dance again some day.

Lin

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Re: Sticky: MWC Attempt to Write the Longest Poem in the English Language
« Reply #89 on: April 30, 2007, 10:07:24 AM »
MWC Lin - The Netherlands


Its been a long time since I danced
The Twist or Mashed Potato,
My father taught me how to waltz
And on his toes I used to stand
Kneehigh, looking up at the belt
On his grey trousers, and the zip
That hid a secret only Mummy knew.

His old brown shoes and my little feet
Would slide around the floor
Falling over each other in clumsy steps
Forward, side, together, repeat and...
One, two, three.  We laughed
At how I would never make a dancer
If I didnt stand up straight.

I grew up remembering how to Waltz
I never forgot the days I stood
On my father shoes, pretending to dance.
The days of Rock and Roll and Johan Strauss
Were somehow intermingled in time.
Many years have passed and I reckon
Just maybe, I could do it all again.



« Last Edit: May 01, 2007, 01:33:40 AM by Lin »