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unlazypoets

Haiku

Apr. 6th, 2006 | 06:13 pm
mood: peacefulpeaceful
music: what is inside me
posted by: kiddalee in unlazypoets

The wind is like one
Caressing my hair's full length
With sweet smelling hands.

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unlazypoets

Untitled Sonnet

Mar. 25th, 2006 | 02:00 pm
mood: hopefulhopeful
music: "Courtyard Lullaby" -Loreena McKennitt
posted by: oenone_borealis in unlazypoets

Hello, I'm Julie and quite glad to have stumbled across this community. I prefer rhyming poetry, but I've always been somewhat reluctant to share it. I used to love to write poetry, but I stopped inexplicably. This is the first poem I have written in four years.

SonnetCollapse )

As you can see, I'm fond of iambic tetrameter.

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unlazypoets

New Icon

Mar. 19th, 2006 | 01:56 pm
mood: sluggish
music: Civilization IV Opening Theme just ended
posted by: kiddalee in unlazypoets

Everybody thank calann for our new icon. It's much better than the older one.
And now, it is time for me to change the overall look of this place.
Edit: And now I've done it, though I'm surely going to do it again.
Edit again: Almost done making this place look decent.

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unlazypoets

Taking up the challenge.

Mar. 18th, 2006 | 10:41 pm
mood: okayokay
music: China Swallow - Midwinter
posted by: calann in unlazypoets

Hallo.

This would be my first post on here. Sad that the place is still very much tiny. I hope it'll grow.
Anyways. I've always written freeverse, mainly because a) no one taught me at school anything about different forms, in English anyway, b) I felt that trying to capture my words into a certain metre or form would take away from the natural flow of my writing and c) there might have been something else, too. But I guess it just required some confidence in my work on my part, and now that I have that, I'm ready to take on new aspects of poetry.

Although I suspect that the majority of my poems will still be written in freeverse.

But, now that I've said 'hi' in a longish and roundabout way, I'll be getting to the other point of this post. My second ever poem written in something other than freeverse, a dabble in rhyming couplets. I think I actually spent more time on this than any other poem of mine.
And yes, you can trust that I'm completely aware of the words 'heritage' and 'sage' not rhyming. Let's call it an intentional deviation, shall we? (Truth is, I couldn't figure out anything that would rhyme with the former, but I didn't want to forsake the idea I had. So, there it stays.) Mind you, this was somewhat bold of me, since I've held the notion that I can't rhyme to save my life. But here we go.

The poem, which as of yet is untitled.Collapse )

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unlazypoets

Userpic?

Jan. 1st, 2006 | 10:58 am
mood: sleepysleepy
music: David Bowie - Diamond Dogs
posted by: kiddalee in unlazypoets

Yep. I deleted our userpic, because I think it may actually chase prospective members away.
Please spread the word that we exist... please!

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unlazypoets

BLARG!

Dec. 5th, 2005 | 05:16 pm
mood: sadsad
music: I am whistling, "Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow!"
posted by: kiddalee in unlazypoets

Bowled over by lack of energy,
Lucy stared at the ceiling,
Arrogantly challenging it to fall on her.
Roof, sensing her sour disposition,
Growled, "I won't even dignify that with a response!"

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unlazypoets

Essay Rant

Nov. 18th, 2005 | 09:32 pm
mood: calmcalm
music: Supertramp - Dreamer (in me head)
posted by: kiddalee in unlazypoets

Singin' scat is not something I do because I have no choice,
Nor particularly is it just so I can show my voice,
But, despite the way the world sucks, I have chosen to rejoice.

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unlazypoets

Impracticality

Nov. 13th, 2005 | 06:19 pm
posted by: kiddalee in unlazypoets

"Are you kidding me?"
Said the ghostly funny man,
And the people laughed.

There is something more to us
If we're so impractical.


I wrote this American tanka for school. It's not my favourite; it's too blunt. But it's there.

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unlazypoets

Oh, come on...!

Aug. 5th, 2005 | 12:21 am
mood: angryangry
music: Millenial Fair theme from Chrono Trigger, on SNES (but their soundtrack is actually very disappointing)
posted by: kiddalee in unlazypoets

There was a rich American who lived below the sky.
In spite of this his colleagues chose to place him very high...
For this American had worked for an amazing skill:
He had the power to decide whether disease would kill.

This Doctor, which we know him as, could stop debilitation.
His rival was cereberal palsy, known in every nation.
So taxing was his work that he could only do so much,
But he remained advisor to the foreigners with such.

One day, however, he received a movie from far.
The boy it featured, in his teens, had stretched as made of tar.
The failing of his spine could someday suffocate and kill.
The boy's surgeons, lacking skill, had made it harder still.

The Doctor then recieved some books of poetry from there.
All written by the boy, they had words which raised his hair.
Insanity and beauty, oh! Erotic sense and mirth!
No child could write such things unless he'd had a gift from birth!

A normal child the Doctor would have sent advice and left,
But let to die a genius when he was a surgeon deft?
He wouldn't dare, and so he cared to meet the boy himself
To offer him some surgery and fix his warping shelf.

The child agreed, for he could read and write while stuck in bed.
With this, the Doctor summoned colleagues adding to his head.
They straightened him right out, and now the boy will stay alive.
He'll write more poems with power to eternally survive.

The Doctor didn't do this for himself to gain the West.
Though he would die, the boy would still live after gaining rest.
This was the Doctor's greatest service to the artful nation.
A thing on Earth that won't decay is worth civilization.

Although this story has its fame on national TV,
Not one above the Mob has taken stock of what they see.
Despite the many twisted forms that made the poet cry,
His ART's what wouldn't let one claim, "This boy is soon to die."

What's wrong with you, you idiots? The boy is human too!
And so is every other child whose bones are wrenched in two.
I understand about the ones whose bones are only smoking,
But must one look like more than human to be saved from croaking?

---
^Based off a true and recent story.
crossposted to my own Lj

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unlazypoets

Member number four!

Jun. 3rd, 2005 | 07:59 pm
mood: amusedamused
posted by: deltablues in unlazypoets

I'm glad this community exists. I can't create freeverse that doesn't sound pretentious. I actually doubt I can create any poetry that doesn't sound pretentious, but a whimsical romp with strict meter makes it more acceptable. I love whimsy. Here are two poems.

The Ice Monster

Far deep within a shady nook that barely knows the light
There grows an icy beast that thrives on being out of sight
Quite steadily and silently it feeds on what it finds
And nearby foodstuffs want for hope when fast to them, it binds
Its crystal fingers fondle in a cold reconnaissance
And several silent days may pass till, suddenly ensconced,
Are half a dozen TV meals, whose silent, helpless pleas
Are muffled by the monster’s tyranny within the freeze.

The monster thrives in solitude and works throughout the night
And icily stops silent when exposed to outside light
The chisel, hammer, hairdryer: they each will have their chance
To beat the icy beast at its own crystalline slow-dance
The hacking, clubbing, melting bring the monster’s quick retreat
But soon as lights are out again (and this time more discreet)
The crystal fingers bloom once more and slowly feel around
Resume assimilation steadily and without sound.


And recently (by that I mean this morning) I discovered the double dactyl. Here is an early attempt at the form. One ought to know I have a prissy cat named Mitsie.

Jingly jingly
Elegant Mitsiebelle
Perched atop cushions she
Surveys the room

'Hind her the orange cat
Opportunistically
Pounces, ensuring his
Ultimate doom.

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