Hmmm...A game we played in Writer's Guild the other day. Basically, it shows those short-story/novel-only-type characters that you can write poetry no matter how bad you think you are at it. Okay, post your lines according to the following in this thread: (1st line) Write down 2 or 3 household items from your childhood that you distinctly remember. (2nd line) Write down 2 or 3 foods that you always have at your family reunions or that are specific to your family. (3rd line) Write down 2 or 3 phrases that you constantly heard as a child. (4th line) Write down 2 or 3 people (that you've met) that have made a big impact on your life. (5th line) Write down 2 or 3 instances that have changed your life. i.e. A car crash, a movie, a book, etc. (6th line) Write down 2 or 3 places in which you keep your memories. Now, in front of each line, write "I am from..." and you've got yo'self a poem. Oh, it's cheezy and tres high-school, but it can get rather interesting.
Negro, please. I am lawnmowers, organic produce, and spare tractor parts I am cornbread, I am vinegar BBQ sauce, I am hot potato salad I am not those fucking beaurocrats again, trim the sails, and let's just go to the the beach I am Megg Marcella, I am Elizabeth Snow, and I am Keller Williams I am a patchwork quilt, reading books, and the product of living in fishing towns I am a simple plastic crate, I am a gunny sack, and I am lying at the bottom of a 231 year old cellar. I think I got a little odd there, though not as odd as I would have wished.
I am from a Dye-O-La Cabinet on top of a grammaphone, my father's tweed cap, and an old wooden footstool washed up on the beach. I am from an apple pie, a piece of garlic bread and a pot brownie. I am from Jesus Fucking Christ. I am Chantilly Lace, with a pretty face, a ponytail, hanging down, a wiggle when she walks, a wiggle when she talks, makes the world go round. There ain't nothin in the world like a big eyed girl, makes me act so funny, makes me spend my money. Makes me feel real loose, like a long neck goose. Oooh, Baby, that's a what I like! I am from my father,I am George Snow, and I am Marie Lorraine McCreary. I am from a bowl of hot soup in April, I am a stack of letters that shouldn't have been opened, I am a blank tape and a cheap guitar. I am from the crevice between my bed and a wall of midnight ramblings, I am a wicker basket from india, I am a drawer full of notebooks and I am lost inside my head.
I am sink gunk; I am old guitars and pull-out couches I am a pledge drive on public television Look at what I've done-- I am what I've become. Joe and Devin watch the window Looking into dark Fireworks on the horizon Shrubs and a girl who lays below Moths in the quiet A cardboard box at closet's back Unshed tears wait their turn Tried and failed to follow your formula... this just felt right btw... FRUIT BAT I LOVE YOUR SIG!!!!!!!
I am made of whips, I am made of guitar strings, I am pencil shavings. I am of cornbread, hush puppies, and the gumbo. Hearing Je va au discos, mais je manque le Fais-Do-Do, je donnerais peu pres deux cent piastres, Pour une livre des ecrivisses. I am Elvis Presley, Jimmy Carter, and Aaron Neville. I am back to bayou teche, I am at the swim, I am climbing the weeping willows of my childhood. I am my own attic, the basement closet, floating in a perished antique shop.
I am an old-fashioned, charming radio, a brown and worn-out sofa and my mother’s old blue raincoat. I am a cheese plate, a cherry pie and my grandmother’s hot tomato soup. “Don’t forget to hang your coat”, “Never step into a stranger’s car”, “Don’t talk that much in class”, that’s who I am. I am Sam, the best friend ever. I am Carl Barat and Pete Doherty, teaching me to be a libertine. I am Guy, full of respect. I am this one big blunder in love, I am Tori Amos playing ‘Silent all these years’, I am that lad on the London metro that I’ll never see again. I am at least twenty books, full of poems and full of secrets. I’m a song that describes my life. I am a memory, scared to fade.
Heeeeeyyyy, ya'll's poems came out mighty fine. I am from Feival Goes West tape, maggot-filled trashcans, and Earthworm Jim. I am from sweet potatoes and lobster tail. I am from brush your hair for ballet, put some shoes on, and Miss Priss. I am from Mr. Cronin, Mr. Tredemeyer, and my brother. I am from Lester Bangs readings and Mardi Gras parades. I am from my nose, Bosier City, and a tiki bar Down East. Ahhh, I loved that game.
i am from the computer, the pool and the weird mound of playdough that was always laying around. i am from my dads baked ziti, papa johns pizza and mcchickens i am from shutup and be nice to your brother i am from my father and my mother i am from forest gump and lying to my old man about fireworks i am from my heart and my paper
I am a sharp stone, a leftover bone. I am chewing on a mastodon steak, megatherium tail, washed down with fermented bile. I am oogalug and oogalag. I am the shaman, the hunter, the painter of caves. I am the fireball that fell from the sky, the shadow that hid the sun. I am the ground I will be buried in.
I am from Stuffed lepoard, red plastic toy telephone and creaky high bunkbed. I am from raw boned fish, The body of jesus and cold potatoes. I am from, 'Hurry up!, come onn!' 'Ask me later' 'Well done, thats brilliant' I am from modern magician dressed in fubu jeans, Best friend of female muscles and true heart, Broken father not allowed to speak. I am from soaring firebird, held hand and alcohol coma. I am from cupboard corner, tears and laughter
I do hope that's not the lycanthropic relatives of my clan you're laughing at, fruit bat. It would be a 'howling' shame.:X
