Treasure Island

Freeform Workshop


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  • Jay Akarim (7/25/2009 4:15:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    Walking down Western Avenue
    With grocery bags in my hand
    People in their cars wondering
    Is that little boy feeding hi family?

    I have a list of things I need to get
    Have to make sure there's enough milk
    Have to make sure to get the eggs
    Have to make sure I get them all

    Parents do too much for me
    I'm grateful for it though
    my Mom works 12 hours,
    6 days a week
    Dad has 2 jobs
    5 to 8,2hr break
    When we get home
    He cooks for me, and
    leaves
    To his second job
    All so I can get a good life

    After all they've been through in their lives
    They'd sacrafice it all
    For Me
    I hope I can make them proud
    One Day I will
    One Day....

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    • Genesis Cairo (8/5/2009 11:53:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      its very sweet along with its touch of reality.i like this poem alot keepem coming lol! ! ! !

  • Pushkar Bisht (7/10/2009 9:00:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    Life is just for a moment,
    Not for hours, weeks, days, years or centuries,
    so why do we regret
    why not enjoy the moment fullest,

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  • Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel Black (7/6/2009 11:30:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    Time is getting shortes as we approach the July 30 deadline for a publishing opportunity and a chance to give a helping hand.Please read my poem AFRICA'S SOUL for the details following my poem.I posted the information to make it easier to find....

  • Augustus Egg (6/30/2009 8:04:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    New opening for freestyle poem renamed:

    The goldfish in his little house

    The factory is shutting down
    and everyone’s belly is hanging out like bunting
    but it’s so deadly cold that
    the word cold must be emphasised.
    Similarly, socks, in which holes have been drilled
    is in my head as annoying as
    stout wooden pegs or plugs or unexplained follicles
    orbiting the sculls of twin girls
    like smelting moons,
    one monocled to distinguish from the other

    Replies for this message:
    • Stephen Magill (7/2/2009 10:18:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      was looking for a tutorial or something but this mostly looks like ads and whining. saw the beginning(or parts there of) of your poem and i just went with the feeling. its your idea so i give this to ... more

    • Augustus Egg (6/30/2009 8:50:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      this is rubbish..

  • Augustus Egg (6/18/2009 9:23:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    the blue factory: freestyle poem project,6th draft

    opening and closing

    the blue factory is shutting down.
    And everyone’s belly is hanging out like bunting.

    for weeks we shuffle, spellbound
    quilted
    like coverlets
    but it’s so cold in here
    that the word cold must be emphasised:

    (even the goldfish is staying put in his little house.)

    my biggest fear
    is flowing straight out of me

    outwardly
    a shepherd
    driving his flock

    but blow the same breath outwards

    and see
    how the old machines
    throw up the dust

    Part 2
    the new order
    (bollocks to all this we know the smell)
    heralds
    another lunatic fringe
    honing its listening skills
    on an orange

    Part three
    never are those authentic.
    Never.
    these
    gnarled sad relics with their corrugated lips
    pursed like buds
    bull ridden
    like ancestral aunts

    Part 4
    the impact of all that woolly thinking
    especially on socks
    in which holes have been drilled,
    is
    in my head
    connected
    to stout wooden pegs:
    plugs
    expressions of unexplained follicles
    orbiting the scull

    Part 5
    by any yardstick
    being pecked to death
    by
    ancient aunts
    is all
    and not
    as previously stated a bulldog

    scarcely
    a small delicate

    with about half of its bulk protruding from its mouth
    teeth like dry stone walling
    longing for whistles

    and those strong comforting hands
    for pushing back
    and
    yet
    there crouching
    on the floor
    soft and resistless

    as former plastic pleasures,
    smelting of iron
    twin girls, like moons, and a monocle
    to distinguish one from another

    sweet ravens
    cruel and curved

    Part 6
    good.
    it’s dark
    we can make our assessments

    driven by twitching fingers,
    colour covers the canvas
    tacky
    still
    these years later

  • Augustus Egg (6/14/2009 8:13:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    the blue factory: freestyle poem project,5th draft of an estimated....

    opening

    the blue factory is shutting down. all the doors are stuck up and everyone’s belly is hanging out like bunting.
    the story is so universal it’s frequently used as the central plot in tv dramas

    Part 1
    for weeks we shuffle around spellbound
    quilted
    like blankets on a scorching hot day

    but it’s so cold in here
    that the word cold must be emphasised
    even the goldfish is staying put in his little house.

    Part 2
    After we hear of
    the new order for buttons-
    bollocks to all this
    we know the smell-

    another lunatic fringe
    comes
    honing its listening skills

    Part three
    never are those authentic
    Never.
    these
    gnarled sad relics with corrugated lips
    bull ridden
    like ancestral aunts
    current wave, prematurely wrinkled

    Part 4
    the impact of its wool,
    especially on socks
    in which holes have been drilled,
    is
    in my head
    connected
    to stout wooden pegs:
    plugs
    expressions of unexplained follicles
    orbiting the scull

    Part5
    by any yardstick
    being pecked to death
    by
    ancient aunts
    is all
    and not
    as previously stated a bulldog

    scarcely
    a small delicate

    with about half of its bulk protruding from its mouth
    teeth
    like dry stone walling
    longing for whistles

    and those strong comforting hands
    for pushing back

    yet there
    crouching
    on the floor
    appear soft and resistless

    as other plastic pleasures,
    smelting of iron
    twin girls, like moons, and a monocle
    to distinguish one from another

    sweet ravens cruel and curved

    Part 6
    good.
    it’s dark
    now we can make our assessments

    driven by twitching fingers,
    colour
    covers the canvas
    still tacky
    these years later

  • Augustus Egg (6/14/2009 8:15:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    ..there’s a sketch by the two ronnies where they both reply to each other’s lines with their reply to each other’s previous line. the outcomes were very often unexpected. i think an adaptation of this method can definitely be of practicable use in freestyle poetry..

  • Augustus Egg (6/13/2009 8:04:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    freestyle poem 5th draft/ unhampered
    part 1
    wool

    i won’t sit spellbound forlorn
    sucked in, hunched up, enthralled
    for days on end
    only to find
    when asked

    Have the radiators been bled?
    It’s so deadly cold

    is tempting to assume no

    even the goldfish is staying put in his little house

    when one of the quartet writes a new stanza
    bollocks to loneliness

    you just know he has already sorted out for himself
    a kind of lunatic fringe
    honing his listening skills
    on a button

    never were these daguerreotype lovelies
    but
    gnarled sad relics with corrugated lips
    bull ridden
    like ancestral aunts
    coal black currents, prematurely wrinkled

    the impact of wool,
    especially socks
    in which holes have been drilled,
    is
    in my head
    connected to stout wooden pegs:
    plugs
    expressions of unexpected hair


    part 2
    the follicle

    straight from the lolloping buttocks, the
    frequent bloody stools, by any yardstick,
    is stock.
    For
    Like being pecked in the face
    is
    an ancient aunt
    and not
    as previously stated a bulldog?

    scarcely
    a small delicate,
    with about half of its bulk protruding from its mouth

    teeth like dry stone walling

    Wind breaks

    And the longing for whistles
    is doubtless
    her strong comforting hands
    for pushing back

    yet she appears hardened to the time worn gestures
    of affection
    there
    crouching on the floor

    and there, her other plastic pleasures,
    smelting of iron
    twin girls, like moons,

    to distinguish one from another, i advise a monocle
    or a forename:
    one
    whose success depends on the virtue of its speaking the truth
    though they say
    the truth diminishes one
    by virtue
    of speaking it
    lunick: the cosmonaut’s daughter’s word for muzzle.

    sweet ravens, beaks
    full on
    curved and cruel

    part 3
    the factory

    the glue factories on both sides are covered with glue.
    all the doors are stuck
    and everyone’s belly is sticking out
    like wrens’

    part 4
    the night shift

    good.
    it’s dark
    now we can make our assessments

    driven by twitching fingers,
    colour covers the canvassers
    still tacky
    years later


    part 5
    real life is not wrong, stop fighting it

  • Omotayo Micheal (6/12/2009 11:31:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    i just like to know perhap i shal be allowed to partake in the workshop.then is it free? and more, is it concerning international relation?

  • Bullion Grey (6/11/2009 12:45:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    Why is there a shut down of 14 factorys in 7 states in the north east?
    They said there was 500,000 out of work....waiting for these factorys to reopen.
    These 500,000 people could get together and buy these factories with venture capitalist and make Green Cars like: The Air Powered car, runs on compressed air. The electric car. The Sea Water Car runs on pure salt water from the ocean. And the Solar Powered Car. What is it that stops them from Brainstorming together to find new ways to use these factorys? Its better to try than sit around and feel defeated.
    BG

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