This workshop is for those who enjoy
the inspiration of a graphic...
There are a series of graphics below.
The tagger will select a graphic, and then supply a topic as well.
The writer will then compose their poem, using both, as inspiration!
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Graphic #1
Graphic # 2
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Graphic #3
Graphic #4
Graphic # 5
Graphic # 6
Graphic # 7
Graphic #8
Graphic # 9
Graphic #10
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Selections from our workshop are listed as comments , below.
Each improvisation is presented as written, with only common typo/spelling errors corrected.
Please enjoy reading these creative works, and I encourage you to add a poem of your own!
10 comments:
Worthless Costume Jewelry-Image # 5
Dreams fade sometimes,
yet other times, they crush under the weight
of usless wishing
of wanton need
of unforgiving waste.
.
Bountiful lives yiled treasures
so many measures of what is real, or not
oft forgot, the meaning
not the seeming greed,
but true intention
.
Her baubles were not gold
but old , and gleamed with memories
and meaning, for me.
seemingly worthless
costume jewelry to others...
.
everything...to me.
©DreamsbyDay
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Setting the Timing - Image 6
clock work apparatus
winds down, slow
sands ebb
the hungry waves eat our shores
in the loose gear reality
in which the grains gum up the works
as time passes we all atrophy
counting the seconds until time
has left me impotant
and my gears no longer function
the final tick, of my grand father clock
©mintyflesh
As long as I love you -Image 10
I don't care as long as you love me
I don't Care what you do for a living dadddy
I don't care how much you make
I DON"T care Where we live
I don't care about the color of your skin
Nothing matters to me as long as you LOVE ME
I"ll love you no matter how silly you get
YOU're my daddy
you always Will be
©JBatlady28
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Turned to Stone, Image 4
Harsh winters, torrid summers, worry not
the heart that hides beneath a stony face
the soul that's lost a dream it cant replace
the eye that looks for love that's long forgot...
.
Each moonbeam glints upon that grey white stone
unable to determine where flesh lived
unable to hear lies long unforgiven
Unable to believe how hurts have grown
.
Tears penetrate, and reach an inner tomb
where nothing else can manage to break in
with tears, perhaps a healing can begin
to loosen up a heart that;s turned to stone
.
This waiting is a longer wait than time
Hard hearts and broken dreams, so oft, a rhyme
© DreamsbyDay
Souls Contemplation- Image 1
soul contemplation
solitude empty-minded
bright toenail focus
convenient satori
evanescent contentments
~
©GaerLlwyd
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-Try to Be- Image1
Images of Shakespearean Nonsense
Moments of questions, questions
To be, or not to be,
To die?
So here I sit, watching my feet
My hair dangling, a mess, is this mine?
Is this body mine?
Everything, so distant
These emotions... they are not mine
These images before me... they are not mine
These sounds, what I feel,
My life, my sense of self
Is no longer mine
Fight it, something inside tells me
Imaginary friends from days
When I was small
Smiling, taking my hands
"Try to be" they tell me, "everything."
"Try to be alive"
"Try to be"
It's all they have to say
I stand and dress myself
And leave
To face the day.
©Candlewax Coupon
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Concrete Angel - Image 4
She sleeps,
neither the moonlight nor the rustle of leaves
will awaken her. Content
to lie still and guard her young charge.
The dates below her arms read:
June 1745 - July 1751
May the angels watch over her.
.
It might have been nice to have known her charge
who lived such a brief life. As cousins
we could have walked the paths of deer
that wend thru prairie grasses at dawn.
Perhaps we could have just laid on our backs
staring up at the clouds, laughing at the pictures in the sky.
I could have been told what kind of a girl she was,
but I dream of past years and I would have never known her at all.
All I have are dates written here
and in a bible and the sleeping angel over her grave
.
It is quiet here. Shhhhhhhh everyone is asleep
and at peace.
©Pegleghill Margaret Hill
Robots Image 3
We are all the same.
We are not the same.
I am you, not you.
The same highway,
The same workplace,
The same demands on us to be the same,
But you know I am not you. I loved you,
And you were not me, even in the same place,
Even in the same space,
Even on the same road,
I was not you, because I can't love myself,
And so you were you,
A different road on the same day,
The same tasks, on a different day,
But the same bed on the same night.
I kiss you, dear, in the past,
On very different roads now, and different years,
But in the same memory, the same thing,
Even if the roads and the hallways and the beds are different,
I kiss you goodnight in the dream of memory.
©KensanForever
Growing Still -Image 7
An ever expanding Universe
Full of uncertainties
narrows down to just one world
This world, like he universe, expanding with new unknowns
Narrows down to just one country
This country, full of sites unseen, gains new waters and land
Zoom in again, to just one city
ever so slowly gaining new ground
The people within
Born and raised
never travelling too far
Growing old in years, Their minds never expanding
With the rate of such an ever expanding universe, full of unknowns
©Poetspoint360
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Age-Image 6
.
The shed crumbled in the corner, under the tree
It wsa a good place to watch the sun set,
a beer in one hand, a tray of tools
waiting patiently on the workbench.
.
The wheels rusted gently in the dying light,
sunset tones licking along the spokes.
The door leant reproachfully against the wall.
It had waited a long time.
.
Rubber was never meant to handle age well.
The tires, once the epitome o9f performace
now cracked and deformed but time.
Leaves rustled on the roof as the air moved past.
He risked a smile as he closed the toolbox
and locked the door. Tomorrow would be time enough
for memories and dreams
©redking44
Shattered Dreams – Image 9
Breathe in, out. Breathe in, out.
Breathe in the ocean’s spirit. Listen to the tranquillity.
That’s what the moonlit tide always seems to whisper
As the magic bursts, it kisses the sand and leaves it golden
Yet still, the atmosphere is tense.
A tremor of anticipation trails along my neck
I see an angel glide over the swirling tide
Of nothingness, blink and the vision
Vanishes
I study the heavens as they prepare for war
There is lightning and her lover, Thor
On one side, with her army of raindrops,
They eclipse the sunshine.
One the other is their just visible nemesis.
A cry of fury as Thor sees his daughter, captured
A battle cry and so, the war begins.
My comrade joins me, starry eyed
I shake him, desperately, trying
To free him from this trance
There was no answer.
Just a lone fingertip pointing at vision
That climbs onto the lethal rocks
After a moment, the vision shatters
Fragments tumbling into the sea
Seems symbolic to only me
Our ship is drifting too close inside
The helm shatters on the tip of lethality
Fragments crush and fall into the sea
A mermaid pauses to glance at me,
Her woebegone features seem heavenly
As I lay still floating on the shore
No strength left in me anymore.
©angelmist
Graphic #1: The Battered Woman
Her soul is fractured
Her heart has been tainted
love lost behind her
the devil has enjoyed it
her son lost to disease
her daughter turned to the streets
and the only man she trusts
has left her in the dust
with only the urge to give up
tears fall from her eyes
as she sits on the bench and cries
alone in a crowded room
colors fade from her vision
black and grey her weaving loom
as she tries to fight depression
no reason to live and yet she does
to spite everything even her vanquished love
a shadow of her former self, a shade
of deepening doom and darkened gaze
guarded against the horrors of the world
blind to the pleasures unfurled
but in the dark coems a hope
a slender color of golden rope
that maybe she can stop it
That perhaps it doesnt have to come again
She starts a group or two
that span the world, a multitude
of understanding and help
so that others who go through hell
know that they're not alone
That they have friends, a place in the heart
that they can call home
All because of one moment
The time she spent as a battered woman
I apologize for breaking in. I wasnt tagged or given a topic, but that first image just grabbed me and took me in. Hope you all can forgive my intrudence
No apologies needed--this is what we are hoping for! Write away and thanks for posting your improvisation!
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