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Post by Demonic Neko on Feb 2, 2006 20:01:00 GMT -5
Okay I need to create a collection of original poems for my Creative writing class. So I'm gonna list a few (some with my isprations for em) and you guys tell me whatcha think ok?
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Post by Demonic Neko on Feb 2, 2006 20:04:50 GMT -5
This is a vilanelle(sp?) that I had to create for a class assigment
La rueda de los Abuelas
Bent back, hunched over a sink,
Creating for the familia a meal.
It’s the little things that make one think.
The Abuela pauses for want of a drink
As she scrubs away at a potato peel.
Bent back hunched over a sink.
Los niños' mouths are wide and pink,
They let out a hungry squeal.
It’s the little things that make one think.
Like her own Abuelita she doesn’t think
Taking care of children is such an ordeal.
Bent back hunched over a sink.
For she knows she’s another link,
In the familia’s ever growing wheel,
It’s the little things that makes one think.
La hija joins, her hands in sync,
With her Abuelita’s-- it seems surreal--,
Bent backs hunched over a sink.
It’s the little things that make one think.
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Post by Demonic Neko on Feb 2, 2006 20:20:35 GMT -5
Okay this one is kinda dark, but basicially for this assignment we had to mimic a poem called "Famous" which repeats the word, well famous mutifle times throught the poem.
Blood
Blood spills on the counter.
Drops of blood seep into the grout,
splattering on tiles,
staining white porcelain.
The razor blade is coated with blood,
the edge glowing crimson in the faint light.
From the cut, blood trickles down skin.
A smear of blood mars the counter
where a hand places itself to steady the body.
Veins pump with blood,
forcing it out of the cut
at an alarming rate.
A stream of blood flows down,
from wrist, to palm, to fingertips.
The counter is now coated with blood,
the older drops starting to turn from bright crimson,
to the brownish hue of rust,
as the blood begins to oxidize.
The blade falls into the blood,
as the fingers grow too numb to hold it properly,
making a dull cluck as it hits the porcelain.
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Post by Demonic Neko on Feb 2, 2006 20:25:05 GMT -5
This one is what we called Found poetry, where you find things and put them together to create a poem. I created this one using quotes from a lunch money game.
Hi!
You have EYES
yet you do not
SEE
You cannot posses me
Love=Violence
HURTS...
don't it?
Distance makes
the heart grow
DARKER
Nowhere
to run to
BABY
Nowhere
to HIDE
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Post by Lolua on Feb 2, 2006 23:16:55 GMT -5
La rueda de los Abuelas
Bent back, hunched over a sink.
Creating for the familia a meal.
It’s the little things that makes one think. "It's the little things that make one think" is more grammatical, unless you had it that way on purpose. Which, in poetry, seems likely. :-P It's a repeated line through the poem, so if you change it here, you should change it there. The Abuela pauses for want of a drink
As she scrubs away at a potato peel
Bent back hunched over a sink
Los niño’s mouths are wide and pink
They let out a hungry squeal
It’s the little things that makes one think. I think it's as correct in Spanish as it is in English to say "Los niños'" with the apostrophe on the outside, since there's more than one niño to whom these mouths belong. Like her own Abuelita she doesn’t think
Taking care of children is such an ordeal
Bent back hunched over a sink
For she knows she’s another link
In the familia’s ever growing wheel
It’s the little things that makes one think.
La hija joins, her hands in sync
With her Abuelita’s it seems surreal
Bent back hunched over a sink
It’s the little things that makes one think. Let me propose some ways you can tighten up this last stanza, and you don't have to do any of them if you don't want to. La hija joins, her hands in sync
With her Abuelita’s -- it seems surreal --
Bent backs hunched over a sink;
It’s the little things that makes one think.That said, I think this is a great poem with a nice, steady rhythm, and I only suggest changes that I think will enhance the message. I, uh, tend to find grammar errors distracting in things I read... >_>... so it's easier for me to enjoy a poem for the poem's sake if I get the grammar stuff out of the way first. ^_^ |
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Post by Demonic Neko on Feb 7, 2006 12:23:09 GMT -5
Finaly poem for my portfolio, another villanelle
I am (yo soy) Boricua by night.
A single star shines so bright.
Over the glow of phosphorescent bay
I am (yo soy) Boricua by night.
Framed by lines of red and white
A triangle of blue like ocean spray.
A single star shines so bright.
The coqui sing out their delight
Until the dawn, their songs they play
I am (yo soy) Boricua by night.
The ghost of Taino walk the night
Dancing the areito, a lively display
A single star shines so bright.
Cemis created as if to invite
Gods into little figures of clay.
I am (yo soy) Boricua by night.
To know my people brings me delight
I will soon return, I hope, I pray.
A single star shines so bright.
I am (yo soy) Boricua by night.
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