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)”
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
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
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
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.
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
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
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
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…
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.
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.
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
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