subscribeOct 21, 2008
skeleton poem up for grabs!
No, not a scary Halloween skeleton poem. I don’t like scary and I don’t do scary. I prefer to ignore Halloween and hope that one year people will come to their senses and stop celebrating it.
What I mean by skeleton poem is the kind we played with over at Read Write Poem recently. (In case you missed that writing prompt and want to know what the heck I’m talking about, here’s the link: Bare bones, stripping the work down.)
Here’s what I did. I rummaged around and found a very old poem of mine. It’s dreadful really. I stripped it down and am posting it here for people to “complete.” I have some rules, though:
- Try to make it good. It can be funny or whatever — I like funny — but make it good. Don’t treat it like a Mad Libs game. (Or do. That might yield the best poems.)
- Don’t feel like you have to follow the spacing lengths for each word you choose. I simply included the spaces the way I did so you would have an idea of the overall form of the original piece.
- I want everyone to do this. And if you are not a poet, that’s no excuse (see item #4).
- Don’t feel like you have to be a poet to do this. C’mon. Just do it. I mean you, Churlita. And you, Neil. And you, Palinode.
- Feel free to post your poem on your blog, but please link back to this post so people will know where you got the inspiration.
- Either leave the link to your poem, or the poem itself, in the comments of this post.
To sweeten the deal, I will mail a poetry prompt/memento to the person whose response floats my boar. I mean, my boat.
To clarify, my boar does not float at all. He is heavy and meaty and hairy and somewhat dirty and wild and friendly and omnivorous. He is all those things. But he is not a swimmer or a staying-above-water-er. He sinks every time. Every. Damn. Time. I even had him fitted with a little flotation device. But still. He sinks. And sinks again.
OK. Enough about my boar. Here’s the skeleton:
[title]
__________ on _______
[body]
___ _______ _______ ______
in ______ and ____, ______ ____________
of _______, the _____
of a _______.
__, ____ a _____ _____. _____,
the _____ _____, a _____
of ___________ _____.
_________ in ___ ___ _____.
____ ___ ___ _____
______ the _______ of a ____,
___ _______ ______ in the ___.
______ _______.
An _______ ______, ________.
___ __ ___ the ________
_______ ____ ____ ___ ____
____ the ________ of
___________ _____.
____.
The _________ and the ___.
__ _________.
____ the ____ of _________ and ___.
The bones of Saints part 2
flesh on dust
holiest pages illuminated flames
in centuries eye and blinked, recalling marrow
the papacy, the piracy
of a god vision.
burning, staking a fierce soul. claim,
the fried gold, a sinew
of dry dogma_.
roasting in hell’s barbeque of judgement.
sputtering welts and sparks
unaware the martyring of another god,
who had prayed in the heat.
without air.
An arriving, choking.
flickering between smiting the smoke
swirling in the torturing of love and faith
of lovingkindness.
dust.
The dirt and the smudges.
breath in .
blessing the bones of saints and sinners
{Hi Ellarose!}
I’ll try. I may have to wait until the weekend when I have more time and my brain isn’t being sucked out through the beige walls of my cubicle all day.
hope that was’nt too scary…
hey what about the wowit?
really like to know…
e
Hi. I came here from the Quarrel page. I’m going back there after I copy and paste your skeleton. I might put your boar in the poem too, for good measure. Chao.
Churlita, you can wait until the weekend. No rush!
Ellarose, too scary? Nope.
Christine, yes! The boar!
here is my poem…this was challenging!
uh-oh, the link didn’t happen…
lostkite
OK, I added a few extra “the”s and I understand if I’m disqualified for the prize..wait, no I don’t understand. This was difficult! Anyway, here goes;
Merchandise on Display
Shoppers sway and swagger
in leather and denim, under the gaze
of recliners, the leer
of a lamp.
Display, seduce a soup can. Display,
the low bend, a flash
of skin entices.
Disrobe in the office supplies.
Shoppers wrestle and fight
for the right of a payment,
leave their ethics in the aisle.
Caress tags.
An employee’s trampled, casually.
Consumers stampede through the frozen
foods humping fish sticks and
stroking the bags of
cheese ravioli.
Patrons.
The vacuums and the diapers.
They’re watching.
Grab the can of Coke and dance.
[...] used the skeleton of a poem from Dana for this piece. I tried to keep to the form as closely as possible, but changed a few things. [...]
I gave it a shot:
http://thisisonlytemporary.wordpress.com/2008/10/23/well-ya-know-its-a-start/
Thanks, dude.
Holly, I just now saw your link to the piece you wrote. It’s amazing! I am sorry I didn’t comment sooner. I don’t know how I missed your comment.
I’ve decided to give prizes to everyone who responded to this prompt. The entries from Ellarose, Nathan, Holly and Blythe were all so amazing that I couldn’t name one winner. You are ALL winners.
To claim your prize, email me at mygorgeoussomewhere (at) gmail (dot) com, and I will get all the information I need to mail the prize off to you ASAP!