Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Wed., 11/6

Write about anything you like or write a poem.

11 comments:

  1. Dark drips down like paint onto a cloth
    Of gossamer folds
    That sinks
    Slowly
    Like someone shook it out like a blanket
    Catching the air, billowing as it
    Falls
    To earth
    And night touches down,
    Blotting out the sun.

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  2. Suicides and pain
    Running on no sleep is hard
    Gold plaques are worth it

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  3. Therein, a leafhopper, with a white dot.
    Quicker than I.
    And now it’s not.

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  4. It is the color of mushy potatoes
    and it would be a squeeze for most hippos
    It has been painted and repainted
    and after hours of homework we are well aquatinted
    With no knob, it is a mysterious door
    and it is begging me to explore
    It is the door to the hallway nook
    where for now I will just read a book

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  5. Knot around my chest
    I am socially drained
    But now, I can rest

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  6. Change, it can tear you apart.
    No more warm embraces every night.
    No more kisses on the forehead.
    Just stress, just anger, just worry.
    Just nothingness.
    Dad comes home, mom is already home.
    Dad sits at his computer, he continues his work.
    Mom makes food, we eat dinner.
    Go to bed.
    And then it starts.
    Starts all over.
    Same routine,
    Every day.

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  7. Tongue-burning sweetness
    Sipping liquid chocolate
    Whipped cream on my lips

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    Replies
    1. I love this, Emily! I really like how simple it is but I think it really captures something we all know really well. The first line especially I can really feel what you are talking about. I like how you decided to do it with a Haiku, I think it makes it concise but also very descriptive and powerful. Really nice job.

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  8. I don’t feel like writing today
    my hand is tired, my head feels heavy
    I don’t feel like writing today
    my thoughts are raw, my mind is foggy
    I don’t want to write today
    my heart hurts, my feet sting
    I don’t want to write today
    my fingers cramped, my eyes rainy
    I just can’t write today
    my lungs ache, my chest is sore
    I just can’t write today
    the house echoes, my room is empty
    I just won’t write today…

    yet, my pen is moving

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    Replies
    1. oh there are supposed to be breaks after every 4th line.. whoopsiesss

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  9. Stretching,
    Reaching,
    Fingers extending trying,
    To grasp the small object,
    Each bone moving farther from the next,
    Trying to lengthen just enough,
    but suddenly it is gone,
    each muscle releases,
    and the feeling of failure sets in.

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