Monday, October 14, 2013

Someone Turns it into Poetry

Post here as a comment the poems you wrote based on another person's paragraph about place.


  1. Here are the three haikus I wrote from Karla's paragraph:

    The beach was a pond,
    and I was like a duckling.
    The sand pinched my toes.

    Feathers lined the shore.
    An airplane passed overhead,
    like a white seagull.

    Ice-cold sea water,
    from feet to ankles to thighs.
    I've lost all feeling.

  2. From Jaime's paragraph:

    We listen for the jingle,
    our anthem of summer.
    The sticky, sugary orange drips
    and Flintstones wrappers
    all that remains of
    a child's cure for the heat.
    Between white fences,
    green lawns,
    and pockets of shade,
    we catch frogs,
    we catch worms,
    to scare our mother with.
    We sit on the porch.
    We watch the sun set.
    And we wait for another hot day,
    for the jingle to sound again.

    1. Really enjoyed your work, Emma, thank you!

  3. This is my poem for Anna's paragraph:

    Despite the castle, nature reigns sovereign here,
    and silence its queen

    Until the invaders arrive,
    quacking and swaggering into our peaceful realm.
    We watch them come in numbers too great--
    Take our breadcrumbs but leave our daughters!
    They could gorge on our offerings,
    but their leader is too greedy
    Honking into the landscape--
    a foghorn in a glass shop--
    He shares little with his troops.

    1. I love it. Thank you so much for this fantastic poem! :)

  4. This is my poem on Melissa's paragraph:

    An orange suburban streaming through a forest of green
    A young, nervous girl behind the steering wheel
    She thinks to herself, "I'm fine, driving is easy!"
    While the rest of her family is feeling quite queasy.
    The only noises that can be heard
    are the rumbling of the motor, and the chirping of a bird.
    Suddenly, surprise!, a little squirrel catches the girl's eyes,
    "What if I hit it and caused its demise?"
    Unaware of the nervous girl's thoughts,
    the fidgety squirrel climbs a tree, fast as a fox.
    The young girl's eyes follow the little creature in its wake
    Before hearing CRACK! and slamming on the brake.
    She had veered off the pathway, smashing the mirror,
    making her family laugh and laugh until dinner.

  5. A kitchen.
    The place where we gather. It is dimly lit.
    The light switch doesn't work.
    In the evenings, the sun hits the windows.
    There is light. There is noise.
    I hear laughter. I can see them all.
    Yes, the room is big but the number of people is bigger.
    There is light. There is noise.
    I hear laughter. I can see them all.
    Everyone gathers around one area.
    Everyone eagerly picks at the food.
    The children are fighting over one of the two bar stools.
    The loud laughter interrupts their childish insults.
    There is light. There is noise.
    I hear laughter. I can see them all.
    They explore the house, but eventually all return to the kitchen.

  6. Here's my poem titled "Swing." I think it was from Emma's paragraph.

    It was the perfect size for me
    With secretly rainbow-colored ropes.
    I aimed for the blue patches between green leaves
    And landed jarringly in grass and dirt.
    The dusty, earthy scent of the yard surrounds me still,
    As do childhood memories of the place I grew up.

  7. This is my poem on Katherine’s paragraph.

    The rain begins to wet the cobblestones,
    But that is not what keeps me in bed.
    The sunlight is pouring in through my open window,
    As I hear my Early Grey start brewing.

    England invades my desert raised lungs
    My excitement
    My reverence
    My soft love melts quietly into the floor

    Outside the white washed Victorian flats are now gray,
    Umbrellas bloom on the ground floor.
    Muffled by the storm’s white noise,
    I hear Scottish, Irish and London voices.

    Feet splash in the puddles between cobblestones.
    Anonymously I hum quietly at the churches.
    Gothic spires twirl,
    Clocks hang from hallways,
    All Gray.

    The clouds remind me to hurry somewhere else.
    Back home, the wide expanse sky
    Has clouds that take their time,
    Drowsing us with summer storms,
    Disappear entirely when they are done.

    There, rain smells like wet concrete and car accidents.
    But here, Cambridge, rain is an excuse,
    Fresh-baked morning bread and brie,
    A cup of tea and splash of adventure on my forehead.

  8. Here is my poem on Craig's paragraph:

    Echoes in the halls, I spent my afternoons there.

    A place where we were close without really knowing how.

    I don't know him now, but then maybe I did.

    I learn a lot, just not the right things

    I know now I should have gotten to know the person rather than the place.

    Our voices now left in the empty space.

  9. It must have been my birthday.
    Outside, I ran through the grass, the arid breeze blowing against my face.
    I was young, I don't recall my age.
    But it was warm. Not so warm that I couldn't play, but warm.
    The gentle conversation of party guests behind me,
    The smell of the end of summer in the air,
    Everything was perfect.

    Screams. That's what I remember next.
    Those behind me were running, running from some unseen foe.
    But what could be happening?
    It couldn't be bad. It was, after all, my birthday.
    They ran inside, still screaming,
    I followed, still confused.
    It was no longer perfect.

    The cool tiled hallway beneath my feet,
    The entry to the kitchen before my eyes,
    The words being screamed became clear:
    "Bees! Bees!" they shouted in a panic.
    They were running in a frenzy.
    Then I felt a soft touch in my hair.
    Then I screamed.

    One of them was on me.
    I wanted to run, to scream just as everyone else,
    But then a tall figure was in front of me.
    It was my father, who gently removed the bee from my hair.
    The screaming quieted,
    My screaming quieted,
    And everything was perfect.

  10. a dim room filled with the smell
    of pine and smoke from a fire
    who's light bounced off excited faces
    of family and soon-to-be family
    Cameras clicked int he silence
    capturing the precious moment
    a sister, soon-to-be bride-to-be
    dressed in elegant white
    her soon-to-be groom-to-be
    sitting in a suit next to her
    joy, happiness, sadness, departure


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.