Tag: prose
group name: originaliterate
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July 21, 2007 12:31 PM EDT --
This poem is based on true events reported in a local newspaper.
She loved him so much
She shot him twice
Left him once
For dead
In love’s name
Anyhow, he lived, somehow
Her guilt drove . . .
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October 04, 2007 08:39 PM EDT --
I think this is pretty amateurish, but I dashed it off today and am hoping for some comments on what is wrong, either content or technique. It's pretty impossible to offend me, as long as you confine . . .
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July 12, 2007 11:44 PM EDT --
She danced away from his eyes when she spoke
Of the green and deep serenity of Vietnam
Because his eyes filled with body bags
And miles of discarded limbs and lives for Sam.
His eyes burned circles . . .
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October 24, 2008 12:35 PM EDT --
She had grown to fear the river. At times, it flowed peaceful like the lush green valley surrounding it. At other times it raged, victim to the rains that pounded the tobacco fields during . . .
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July 20, 2007 05:49 PM EDT --
We had picked up the mooring lines the night before. Now there was a bellowing wind from the south building seas and creating wave sets that smacked us abeam, stretching those mislaid mooring lines taut. . . .
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July 18, 2007 11:19 PM EDT --
If you enjoy poetry, it is obvious that you enjoy or will enjoy willie shakespeare. this is sort of a homage to him, he took the measure of the thing...
He took the measure of the thing . . .
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October 16, 2007 06:40 PM EDT --
The Satrap’s paramour
thought him parsimonious;
not even that apartment
with golden drapes near the park
would he buy for her
(just the common sparse parlor),
where under lilac parasols, . . .
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November 24, 2008 11:27 AM EST --
God's love is like a breeze wafting over us on a hot summer day. We know it is there, but we cannot see it with our eyes...though we can see evidence of that love all around us.
We . . .
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August 29, 2007 02:17 PM EDT --
The best winds return to Southern California in the early winter. The day-sailors, oblivious to rhythms more complex than a weekend sunset, end their sailing season when August, summer’s last breath, . . .
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August 31, 2008 04:10 PM EDT --
She had worn masks all of her life. Masks had served a purpose in her growing years. She had laughed when things weren't really funny. She had pretended to be surprised when she always knew what . . .
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June 22, 2009 10:03 AM EDT --
Love is the answer in a world filled with questions.
Where there is sadness, love can bring joy.
Where there is intolerance, love can bring acceptance.
Where there is bitterness, . . .
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October 24, 2009 12:20 PM EDT --
She walked along the shoreline, moonlight guiding her footsteps. Waves kissed her ankles, and the breeze whipped through her hair. She didn't care. For this moment, she didn't have to look perfect. . . .
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July 27, 2007 06:15 PM EDT --
I know Gatherers prefer shorter poems but this is an experiment that I couldn'tsay no to. I've done something unusual with a standard form just to see how it would work. . . .
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August 03, 2007 12:05 AM EDT --
We were drifters.
Our voices had fallen on hard times.
No one heard us
As our shabbiness hid our nobility.
We wandered north during the summer
To catch the warm rains.
We went to the eastern . . .
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September 22, 2007 06:55 PM EDT --
Pre-dawn, eyes hazy and blunt.
Sojourn to shower, familiar fount.
Bowing to spigot, library of liquid love,
of hot-off-the-press caress and solution-borne soliloquy.
I hike the heat by vanquishing . . .
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October 24, 2009 03:02 PM EDT --
Your brutal attack began years ago. But here I am…still standing.
Sometimes you whisper to me, and fear invades my soul. You come in daylight or darkness. It doesn’t matter. Suddenly I . . .
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June 14, 2008 01:03 PM EDT --
Sometimes she would fall into The Angry Place...that place she was so afraid of. It was a place of demons and monsters...a place where even her smile was not enough to fill the darkness.
. . .
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September 13, 2009 04:49 PM EDT --
The air is chill with Here Comes Fall. You know...that certain smell and crispness that is in the air when summer is saying its goodbyes. I have a sudden urge to pull out my sweater and wrap . . .
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July 18, 2007 03:34 PM EDT --
I read this poem at my father's funeral.
Spindly, black and ashen legs
Sprouted from brown, high-top shoes,
Rose and lost themselves in baggy blue jean shorts
These silent bell clappers . . .
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July 26, 2007 02:24 AM EDT --
The following lyrics were penned by an old school hip hop artist known as Rakim. In the early days of his career, he was part of a duo named Eric B and Rakim. Eric B was the DJ and Rakim the Emcee. As . . .
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