Prose–>Poem (Tues)


Take 1 prose piece you’ve written and recast it with line-breaks two ways — as a 1) narrative poem (a poem that tells a story) AND 2) lyric poem (a poem that uses language to evoke). You are not required to adhere to any metrical or formal elements or structures — both poems should be free verse.


12 responses to “Prose–>Poem (Tues)”

  1. The answer sheet is placed just so in my open backpack. Barely visible from my seat. Invisible from everywhere else. I’ve made sure of that. My first time doing this and I did not want to take any chances. For once I just might do very well, and I feel terrible.

    The answer sheet is in the open backpack
    just so
    invisible to all others

    i’ve made sure of that
    and no one suspects

    my first time doing this
    no one suspects
    no chances taken
    no one suspects
    i will do very well
    i feel terrible

  2. She did not want to go.
    She did not want to leave her friends, her home, her everything.
    Her parents had told her a few days ago that they were moving to Oregon in a few months.
    She did not even know where Oregon was.
    She sat down with all her friends to tell them that she was moving.
    She did not want to leave.
    Her grandparents lived a block away from her house.
    They had this amazing playground in their yard where she and her sisters would play for hours. She wondered how long it would take for her to get to her grandparent’s house from Oregon. She was also worried about the kittens that were just born in her backyard.
    What would happen to them?
    Could she take them with her?
    Her mom was allergic to all animals with fur so she knew taking them with her was not an option.

    She did not want to go
    Her feet stuck in the ground she was born
    Her parents want to whisk her away to a foreign land
    She did not even know where Oregon was
    She lamented, she cried, she lost all hope
    She did not want to leave
    The familiarity she knew was going to be lost
    How long would it take to get back to the places she knows
    The newborn kitten in her backyard worried her
    What would happen to them?
    Could she take them with her?
    She could not fathom why her parents wanted to go

  3. The Ocean always glistens as it moves throughout the day, swallowing bits of sand off the shore and brings it God knows where. Such a large body that humans know so much but none about. Much unknown and wishes of where to place the unknown haunts next generations. Where does it all go? Why does it all go? Emotions following the ways of the Moon, giants with no rock to knock down and ripples that tease tranquility.

    the blue body glistens as it moves
    bits of sand swallowed off shore
    God knows where they go
    all known but none,
    quiet wishes float,
    haunting next generations

    Where does it all go?
    Why does it all go?

    Emotions in ways of the Moon
    giants with no rock to knock
    ripples teasing tranquility

  4. 1)

    Tick…tock…tick
    The clock sounds out its seconds,
    Ticking away at the time.
    It feels slow, like its teasing me
    Taunting me.
    The longer I sit here and look at it,
    The more my leg shakes up and down
    Filled with anxiety and excitement,
    The slower it truly seemed to go.
    Tick…tock…tick
    My mind is racing between thoughts
    It feels like it is on fire.
    I am filled with too much excitement and anticipation.
    Today is the day where I am going to change it all.
    Today is the day, the first day ever, that my mother and I will be free.
    Today, there will be no more pain, struggle, hurt, victories for him.
    Today, my mother wins, I win, because today is a wonderful day.
    Today is the day I will kill my own father.

    2)

    Tick…
    Tock…
    Tick…
    The clock sits there on the wall
    Teasing me,
    Taunting me.
    The more I look at it,
    The more my leg shakes up and down,
    The slower it seems to go.

    Tick…
    Tock…
    Tick…
    Too many thoughts
    Too much excitement
    Today is the day
    That it all will change
    Today is the day
    The first day infact,
    That my mother and I are going to be free.

    Today, no more pain
    Today, no more struggle
    Today, no more hurt
    Today, no more victories for him
    Today, my mother wins
    Today, I win.
    Today will be a wonderful day.

    Today is the day
    I kill my own father.

  5. You’d be driven there
    probably in the evening when the sun is setting
    When you arrive
    it may be slightly dark
    You would peek your head over the edge of the car
    window and you’d see the house
    in all its American glory
    and then you would sit up in the back seat
    and shake off the sleepiness of a long drive
    When the car pulls into the U-shaped driveway
    you would hop out barefoot
    and the pavement is still warm
    from a long day of scorching California sun
    but now it is just warm
    comforting

    You’d be
    driven there
    probably in the evening when the sun is
    setting
    When you arrive
    it may be slightly dark
    You would peek your head over the
    edge of the car window
    and you’d see the house
    in all its American glory
    and then you would sit
    up in the back seat
    and shake off
    the sleepiness of a long drive
    When the car pulls into the
    U-shaped
    driveway
    you would hop out
    barefoot
    and the pavement is still warm
    from a long day of scorching California sun
    but now it is just
    warm
    comforting

  6. saltwater bubbled in her lungs
    as she belonged to the wave. The end
    was near as a bronzed man
    pounded her chest.
    she went home bruised.

    her body grew
    enlarged and engorged, throbbing.
    the wave did all
    by his vigorous movements
    he is a God.

    she is a surrogate to the sea.
    blue-cloaked and sanitary doctors
    sliced and mutilated as
    tentacles
    poked out of pooling blood

    an octopus had taken root
    in a violated woman; everyone
    is entitled a look.
    camera flash, craned necks,
    hold your breath, is this it?

    called it a baby
    and locked it behind glass.
    foggy breath and fingerprints
    from fathers, mothers, brothers,
    and little girls whom the wave comes for next.

    gripping my limbs pulling me down
    the wave turned me to a concubine
    bloody and bruised
    face down on the ocean floor

    i heaved and heaved
    trying to get this growth out of me
    a conquest for a powerful wave
    the growth invaded what was
    no longer my
    body

    on sterile metal
    coldness seeped through me
    the knife pierced through
    and tentacles bursted out
    blood dripped and dripped
    i let go of what was once my
    body

    i was turned into a spectacle
    for science they experimented
    inspecting and bragging at the work
    but did you know i used
    to be just a girl in this
    body

  7. 1)
    She, the gingko by the rocky path,
    Who gives leaves to the wind
    to be caught by the grubby hands
    of laughing children
    She, a child herself in the eyes of time,
    Bears fruit upon her branches
    That was shaped and rounded
    Over thousands of years
    To fit the teeth of a creature
    Now fossilized
    She, a portal to another life,
    Still lets squirrels nest in her branches
    Still lets light play through her leaves
    Still lets me rest beneath her,
    grateful for the shade

    2)
    our eyes are not first to see
    her disrobe her golden finery
    Nor living memory recall
    Her first root laid
    in times slow crawl
    She, the fossil free of stone
    times reliquary
    borne alone
    Begins again, the first of spring
    As though she’s forgotten
    Everything

  8. Would you like to be weighed today? A question the nurse posed to me so effortlessly. A choice. Never before was that a choice. One for me to make for myself. Did I want to see the number? Would my mother ask about that number? Would I like to be weighed…

    Would you like to be weighed today?
    A question the nurse posed to me so effortlessly.
    A choice.
    Never before was that a choice.
    One for me to make for myself.
    Did I want to see the number?
    Would my mother ask about that number?
    Would I like to be weighed…

  9. 1)
    It sounds dramatic but
    I’ve always loved the color black,
    she tells me as we lay there,
    under the stars,
    nestled in the sand,
    whisps away from the sea,
    two strangers,
    asking silently for more.
    There’s this stereotype of darkness,
    she says,
    this idea that villains wear black,
    torn dresses,
    black robes.
    She turns to me,
    calls this design basic,
    says with force,
    that her characters,
    they won’t be like that.
    Black is dark,
    it’s simple,
    it’s loving.
    I laugh a bit,
    not out of disagreement,
    out of something greater.
    She’s serious.
    It’s in everything,
    she drifts in thought,
    she looks at the sea.
    The sky now, she points.
    Those rocks, she throws her hands out.
    Our blanket, she grips the corner.
    Your shoes, she turns to me,
    her smile blinding.
    Your hair I chant.
    Your hair.
    Your hair,
    your eyes.
    I grab her hand.
    She holds tight.
    The sky sparkles:
    Dark,
    Simple,
    loving.

    2)
    Black.
    It’s dramatic to attach yourself
    to that color, of all colors.
    Stereotypical drips of evil.
    Villainous robes and lace dresses,
    Boring cliches,
    so trite and empty
    hollowed out like
    empty shells on the beach
    where we hide.
    Black’s a dark sight.
    Simple yet
    loving. It’s so universal.
    Like love,
    like the water.
    Painted onto the sky,
    dripping across rocks,
    stunning in your eyes,
    eclipsing as your hair.
    Mystifying, alluring,
    thought of as everything,
    really nothing.
    Breathless in the
    nothing of you. Hopeless.
    Reminded of you
    in the color of the universe.

  10. For weeks I watched the half moons rise under her eyes every morning. She stopped sleeping because she was afraid that when she woke up she would see only darkness – a seamless transition from nothing to nothing. But all I wanted to do was sleep. For in my dreams, invisible strings tethered me to the earth, and each time I awoke I had to cut them again with the Swiss Army Knife I clutched in my hand at night. “We have to go somewhere”, I thought, “or soon we will be nowhere forever”. And up was the only option. So we packed as many of our belongings as we could carry and prepared for the journey. We knew we wouldn’t need them where we were going, but we couldn’t leave them behind. As we walked, the extra weight made gravity feel close, like a loved one. Then, at some point everything began to fade. I was relieved that it happened slowly, not a dramatic cut to black like people had predicted. “The curtain is being drawn”, I thought, “but I enjoyed the play”. We stopped walking at the same time – words were no longer necessary. And then, like a balloon in the hand of a distracted child, we took a deep breath and let ourselves go. As gravity kissed us goodbye, I reached for her hand, but she was no longer there. I found I wasn’t either. No, I was swimming in the lake at the cabin. The sun kissed water warmed my weightless body, and I kept rising up and up and up, yet I never reached the surface.

    Every morning I watched
    As the half moons rose
    Under her eyes.
    She stopped sleeping
    For she was afraid
    That upon waking
    She would see only darkness –
    A seamless transition
    From nothing to nothing.

    But I kept my eyes closed,
    For in my dreams,
    Invisible strings tethered me
    To the earth,
    And each time I awoke,
    I had to cut them again.
    Laboring over those strings,
    I sweated
    And tasted the salt on my lip.

    “We must go somewhere, or we will go nowhere forever.”

    And up was the only option,
    So we packed
    Up our lives and carried them with us.
    As we walked, the extra weight
    On our shoulders
    Made gravity feel close,
    Like a loved one.

    Then, I know not when,
    The end began.
    It wasn’t a dramatic cut
    To black like they had said.
    Everything faded
    But I stumbled forward blindly
    As the curtain was drawn shut.

    And then, like a balloon
    In the hand
    Of a distracted child,
    We let ourselves go.
    As gravity kissed us goodbye,
    I reached out for her hand,
    But she was no longer.

    And I wasn’t either –
    And yet I was swimming
    In a lake that existed
    In a sepia tone memory.
    As the sun kissed water warmed
    My weightless body,
    I kept rising
    Up and up and up,
    But I never reached the surface.

  11. Narrative poem:

    The glass shatters into
    Shards of deadly glass
    And I step back to
    Marvel at the wonder
    I have created
    It glitters up bits of
    A reflected image
    I count my body in bits
    And pieces on the floor
    Hands, hip, face, legs
    I look away perhaps
    Hiding my face from the light
    Will make the images disappear

    Lyric Poem:

    Shards of glass reflect
    Eyes, mouth, nose, face,
    Legs, hips, body, being
    Only in fractals–pieces
    Cannot be held together by
    nothing

  12. 1)
    I felt my lips barely part and thought how they once before lied, yelled, cursed. They did everything except kiss, which was all I ever wanted. I don’t think she knew that, at the same time she did. How dare she?

    2)
    My lips could only barely part,
    My lips that lied and yelled,
    My lips that cursed but never kissed

    And that was all I ever wanted
    And I don’t think she knew
    And at the same time, she did
    And that hurt me

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