Spontaneous Poems

Mommy, do you remember the blue doll Christmas?
It was the year that Daddy moved away.
I helped you shop for the little kids
and you let me choose my own gift...
the doll with the beautiful blue gown
and a halo of curls the same glorious shade...
The most beautiful thing in the world to my ten year old eyes.

Now all grown, I realize your sacrifice
to create those precious Christmas memories,
and you are my beautiful blue-haired doll...the best gift ever!

kirsten
very good. i hope to see more of you on this thread.

mute
the isolated mountain
a finger of snow

The lonely snowflake fell
searching...looking around
finding a roof top to stick to
and then another, his brother,
until his whole family covered the ground



We need to decorate this thread

colorbook
Very colorful.

A tear falls silent
resting quiet on the cheek
inwardly a rage awaits.

Morning, Willow and all else. I always have trouble trying to decide how many syllables to use.

Good morning, Edgar and everyone! When it comes to syllables per line, it depends whether I'm doing conventional poetry (then I'd obviously stick to the convention of a sonnet, or stick to eight syllables per line, etc) or vers libre. In Vers libre, I usually start new lines not because of syllables, but because of sound groups and emphasis.

My eyes couldn't stare beyond,
I couldn't see further
Than the shell surrounding
the world of times.
I swept the dusty streets;
A plethora of greys, broken by
Impersonal bridges and neon signs.

Bare khaki trees shake in the midst
as racers and criminals,
debutants all line up together.
Solitary,
I continue.
We buy our daily beauty;
We bury our own holes.

The day the angel left the tree,
the folks went on a shopping spree.
They stomped on folks to get the prize,
they wondered if they should surmise
that maybe something here smelled fishy,
something strange and something iffy...
A man approached and this he said:
"You must look deep inside your head.
I hate to spread the awful news,
quit the chaos, you are Jews."

I took a stroll down the street
to see what strangers i might meet
I must confess and declare
I met nice people from everywhere!
Olla, ciao, what up, they said
or some just barely nod their head.
I must confess it made me smile
to make new friends for a little while.

I have a heart to sing
But my tongue is twisted leather
I give my song to the wind
Where the bird is the king
On airplane of both faith and feather
Then our songs do rise and blend
Their serenade forever

Shopping days are fewer
did you forget someone?
rallying around the mall
buying junk
because your time is next to none
Worried the minutes are ticking by?
Were you at kmart shopping Christmas eve at midnight?
You've missed the point of Christmas
Remember...
your hurried gift shows

Hi, people. I've had computer problems for four days. It seems fine just now - But, "one never knows, do one?" as Fats Waller was fond of saying.

Drone drone drone drone drone drone drone drone drone
The night falls thick as a pig
Drone drone drone drone drone drone drone drone drone
Sky drapes the moon with a wig
Om om om om om om om om om
The fat man walks with a stick
Om om om om om om om om om
No candle wax for his wick
Sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh
His cuffs are brooms in the dust
Sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh
His dark eyes rimmed with a crust
Aye aye aye aye aye aye aye aye aye
His free hand's inside his coat
Aye aye aye aye aye aye aye aye aye
He's soon to drown in the moat

The night cries the tears
while the sun is away
and the earth continues 'round
as it does every day

Whispers eloquently quiet
in the time before dawn
while the sun dries up sadness
to it's light you are drawn

As you focus your eyes
and make way from your bed
the bright shinning sun
clears sad thoughts from your head

What was wrong with your computer edgar?

For a poem in true spontaneity
I call on the Muse, or a deity
To help me compose
Lines of rhyme or of prose
Which may add to your seasonal gaiety

Last night the sugar plums danced in my head,
I awoke with a start and fell out of bed.

I crept to the window,
Peeked over the sill,
The street very quiet,
The trees very still

Where am I? I wondered,
I don't see the snow.
The dark whispered back,
"Hay, gal, don't ya know
You're not in Virginia,
St. Nick is up North
You'll have to imagine
The reindeer, of corth.

Good morning , all.

I suppose...

Living in the environs of Daytona Beach
You're less likely to find a snowball than a peach
For a snowman you'd struggle, of that there's no doubt,
For a drift of the stuff of which to make him out

For frosty tree-sparkle, you'd substitute lights
They do say the Aurora is missing there, nights
And instead of six reindeer, there's no other way
Santa's SUV harnessed and pulling his sleigh

McTag
I like it. Of course Letty and Colorbook - always good.

My computer has dial up problems and this time I think it's the computer, not the server. I am still trying to resolve it.