Strange ships, tall ships
Pass in the night
Through the mists
And out of sight
Out of mind.
Bound on their voyages
Plotted is the chart
An unexpected, fateless tryst
So soon to part
And leave behind
Lost ships, hard ships
Filled with raucous singing
Pass beneath the silent skies
And seagulls winging
On the wind.
|
| Writing Prompt |
Share with us one of your oldest pieces of poetry, exactly as you wrote it. I want to see all those excessive ellipses, capitals at the start of every line, the abundance of semi-colons, the pretentious repetition, the unnecessary line spaces that are.....
SO.....
IMPORTANT....
to my art!
I want you to swear on your honour you won't edit it before posting (adding an image is allowed, as we're in Fanstory Land). Other than that, no limitations. For example, I have one in my repertoire entitled 'Political Correctness' that's literally just a blank page (I was a very sarcastic teenager). For a more useful example, here's the first recorded poem I have of mine - my Nan confirmed I was 8 at the time:
The Snow
Quietly the clouds move in,
Looking like the hair of an old person.
Then very slowly,
The dandruff starts to fall.
Everything as still as the sleeping mouse,
Everything as quiet as the forest at night.
Until the morning spreads over the soggy landscape,
And children chant their cheers from their places of rest
As they look at the white floor outside.
And the still and silence is no more.
Show us what you had :-) |
Author Notes
This poem was written originally in the years between 1961 to 1962. It was provoked by a small accident when I bumped into a man in the street. He hurried away without a word of apology or explanation, but it set my poet's mind into action.
|
|
