calgon's New Writeups

we're cool (poetry)

2009-07-24T15:18:44Z

where are you?
it's cold in this heat, and
there's snow in this summer wind

no reason we can't be friends
you said after all this time
all the blood and tears under the bridge

still, it's so sad, those young people
in that washed-out Polaroid picture
no longer exist

at that age
desperation seemed unlikely

you, doll cute
pretty enough for Hollywood
me, staring into the future
I would not share with you

down a blacktop highway
fading into the distance
a

…

awful forever, but yesterday's (poetry)

2009-07-03T19:30:34Z

in she walks
a fragile eyeful
light as a scarf

with a lack of glitter
that makes her, herself
shine so

and a winsome prettiness
broken only by her balance
on the edge of pain

there he stands
hard and weathered and worn
five years gone from this woman

boy, why you laughin? she asks
a little wild around the eyes

a girl sure does get around, he says
fingers gently tracing the curve of her

…

a good deal alone (poetry)

2009-07-01T15:29:59Z

everything she calls the past
is still happening now
no use running

she didn't have to feel
attached to anyone
just a sense of always being
on the edge of something

of freedom
of loss
is there a difference?

she could not bear to lose
the idea of him
the fact of him
moved her not at all

she had settled for something
which now, in a word
he proved had never existed

lying now amidst tangled sheets
that

…

instant poetry (poetry)

2009-04-08T19:17:04Z


take a writeup
remove capital letters 
and punctuation

turn it all into pre
use weird      spacing 
insert random 
              linebreaks

break up into stanzas 
tada! 
instant poetry

courtesy of Swap and catbox poetry

Hemingway's Poetry (poetry)

2009-03-23T15:39:29Z

I do dearly love the idea of this node.

Prose? Poetry? Both?

Does it really matter? Words all, no?

My choice for most poetic Hemingway comes from pages 49 and 50 of The Old Man and the Sea, Hemingway's most lyrical, and most seemingly effortless, work.

Poetry indeed.


He remembered the time 
he had hooked one 
of a pair 
of marlin.  

The male fish always let 
the female fish feed first 
and the hooked fish 
the female 

made a wild 
    panic-stricken

…

in her other life (poetry)

2009-03-03T17:47:41Z


he had the softest touch
a calm she could admire
even imitate for a time
but could never hope to reach

it saddened her to see, in this man
what she finally wanted to be
when she grew up

no, her lot in life was 
the cheerful slam
the business of spin
this art of consequence

she often mistook herself
for a brash young woman with a sense of humor
but filled with that constant looking for something
a little more worthy, a little more shiny

like a Calvinist minister at a

…