creative writing
Im going to follow in bob's footsteps and put up my poetry from creative writing for your viewing and critiquing(sp?) but just remember i know where most of you live and if i dont i can find out
Free topic 1 revision 1
A Scene
The ground brightens up like the North Star
Against the backdrop of dead trees
I am the star of this system
The lone heat source in the cold of space
Trees are sharp spikes
They are the only life
I step through the field
Wolverine symbols mark tracks
That lead into my bunker where
I am resting, listening
A twig snaps under a boot
I hear the snow pack under each step
The sound becomes louder like a train crash through a mountain
A pin snaps and the grenade rolls into the bunker
I spring up and out of the shelter escaping the blast
The walls behind me painted blood red
But I’m unmarked and left to fight.
animal poem revision 1
Inner Animal
Down at the riverbed the fish are shimmering
Little pieces of tin foil in sunlight
I fish a few salmon out of the stream
Snatching them with quick paws
I crave honey
The sweetness of the bear diet
Hunt and fish, eat and sleep
The bear routine
Repeat and repeat
Until winter
When my life stops frozen in its tracks
From the ice cold of the snow
And I sleep
news poem revision 2
Piracy
Mercedes-Benz, GM,
AOL, Sun, WorldCom
NYSE is the home of money
Business births a good life.
Where bills and price tags are nothing
And money rolls into my pockets
Off to breeze the trade winds.
A weekend vacation to the Mariott
Is just a swipe of a Visa Card.
We call it theft they call it business
They call it theft we get imprisoned.
There is no Robin Hood to defend the poor.
Businesses swell like a fresh wound
and profits rocket towards the skies
Employees fight for jobs like pigeons, blind
As Boston at night, fighting a falcon for a fish
walking around poem revision 1
A Night of White Trash and Cigarettes in Linwood
I open the door as the house spits
A breath of cigarette smoke in my face.
I step in and look around,
The haze scatters light evenly across
The girls chatting and smoking their menthols
The punk kid with messed up black hair
focuses on his game boy
Like a nervous squirrel on speed.
The kid with abnormally tight pants eats nachos
Each chew a distinctive crunch
The inner garage door opens and a backdraft of smoke billows out
Each form appears with bloodshot eyes and a wide grin.
The heavy girl with the thick black glasses opened her cage and dogs of anti-semitic stereotypical bullshit pounce at me.
I told her fat Greek ass to eat a pound of baklava knowing she has probably already downed a ton to get where she is.
It’s the least I could say after the 50th reference to Yom Kippur
A cigarette break outside presents an opportunity to
Leave the smoking furnace to smoke
“That is quite the white trash party”
“Oh man I know”
The bike path is empty at night
Two shadowy figures with glowing dots draped across their lips.
Sound could freeze in this cold night and it did,
The trees tall and straight
Like toothpicks for big mouths.
The night sky resembles a backlit black sheet with holes torn in it.
The cell phone shriek cracks the ice of the night.
It says “many a false step is made by standing still”
Or “ the cops will pick you up if you stay at the playground”
We walked back despite the atmosphere of angel colored garbage
I once read in bed when one learns to be flexible great opportunities present themselves.
ok there it is have fun reading
Free topic 1 revision 1
A Scene
The ground brightens up like the North Star
Against the backdrop of dead trees
I am the star of this system
The lone heat source in the cold of space
Trees are sharp spikes
They are the only life
I step through the field
Wolverine symbols mark tracks
That lead into my bunker where
I am resting, listening
A twig snaps under a boot
I hear the snow pack under each step
The sound becomes louder like a train crash through a mountain
A pin snaps and the grenade rolls into the bunker
I spring up and out of the shelter escaping the blast
The walls behind me painted blood red
But I’m unmarked and left to fight.
animal poem revision 1
Inner Animal
Down at the riverbed the fish are shimmering
Little pieces of tin foil in sunlight
I fish a few salmon out of the stream
Snatching them with quick paws
I crave honey
The sweetness of the bear diet
Hunt and fish, eat and sleep
The bear routine
Repeat and repeat
Until winter
When my life stops frozen in its tracks
From the ice cold of the snow
And I sleep
news poem revision 2
Piracy
Mercedes-Benz, GM,
AOL, Sun, WorldCom
NYSE is the home of money
Business births a good life.
Where bills and price tags are nothing
And money rolls into my pockets
Off to breeze the trade winds.
A weekend vacation to the Mariott
Is just a swipe of a Visa Card.
We call it theft they call it business
They call it theft we get imprisoned.
There is no Robin Hood to defend the poor.
Businesses swell like a fresh wound
and profits rocket towards the skies
Employees fight for jobs like pigeons, blind
As Boston at night, fighting a falcon for a fish
walking around poem revision 1
A Night of White Trash and Cigarettes in Linwood
I open the door as the house spits
A breath of cigarette smoke in my face.
I step in and look around,
The haze scatters light evenly across
The girls chatting and smoking their menthols
The punk kid with messed up black hair
focuses on his game boy
Like a nervous squirrel on speed.
The kid with abnormally tight pants eats nachos
Each chew a distinctive crunch
The inner garage door opens and a backdraft of smoke billows out
Each form appears with bloodshot eyes and a wide grin.
The heavy girl with the thick black glasses opened her cage and dogs of anti-semitic stereotypical bullshit pounce at me.
I told her fat Greek ass to eat a pound of baklava knowing she has probably already downed a ton to get where she is.
It’s the least I could say after the 50th reference to Yom Kippur
A cigarette break outside presents an opportunity to
Leave the smoking furnace to smoke
“That is quite the white trash party”
“Oh man I know”
The bike path is empty at night
Two shadowy figures with glowing dots draped across their lips.
Sound could freeze in this cold night and it did,
The trees tall and straight
Like toothpicks for big mouths.
The night sky resembles a backlit black sheet with holes torn in it.
The cell phone shriek cracks the ice of the night.
It says “many a false step is made by standing still”
Or “ the cops will pick you up if you stay at the playground”
We walked back despite the atmosphere of angel colored garbage
I once read in bed when one learns to be flexible great opportunities present themselves.
ok there it is have fun reading