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Posted: Tue Apr 14, 2009 1:02 pm
by mslover
Start your muses! I present to you 3 more motivational poetry challenges to test your creative minds.

1. Dance is poetic expression in motion. Write a poem about dancing - do you like it? hate it? has it changed over the years?

2. Use the following quote as inspiration: "Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes." Carl Jung

3. How about another word list. They generally work well. The words to use are: reverie, knit, shift, ebb, simple, gossamer, create

Ready, set, write!

Posted: Wed Apr 15, 2009 1:50 pm
by mae

Tutus and Toe Shoes

Leotards and tights, oh what a sight!
An old pair of ballet shoes.
A mirror for prancing, she practices dancing
wearing her fluffy pink tutu.

A whirl, a twirl and a cuffle swirls
a little girl's dance begins.
A pretty new dress, her joy's expressed
in pirouettes and spins.

On daddy's feet, following his beat,
she dances to their favorite song.
Then with hair a-flyin', toy guitar cryin'
she's a head-banging rocker strong.

A lovely endeavor, lasting forever,
dance belongs to the world.
But my heart's beguiled by the happy smiles
of those dancing little girls.

In the second stanza is a word you're probably unfamiliar with - cuffle. That's what my younger daughter called the ruffle on the hem of her dress when she was five - and twirling around in her new dress! She'll be 30 this year! I loved it then and I love it now.


Posted: Wed Apr 15, 2009 1:58 pm
by mae

Space Travel

Shuffling feet trudge along,
raising dust in the afternoon heat.
A plover calls when I draw too near,
displaying her practiced deceit.

An aging sun quickly falls
leaving a blue-gold glow,
hiding ennui and draining languor
as glimmering stars start to show.

The night is filled with a crackling chorus
of crickets, katydids and frogs.
The swing creaks on its back-again swing
and we hear from the neighbor's dogs.

How would it be, we wonder aloud,
if we traveled among the stars?
If we could jump between Venus and Earth,
then to Jupiter and back to Mars?

Would we grow old faster than here?
Would we be thin as rails?
Would our speed increase as we walked about,
or grow slow as slugs and snails?

Would we discover priceless treasure
or find the answer to life?
Would we meet others different than us
or see strange and wonderful sights?

But why not here? I ask myself.
Mysteries are still hidden about.
Lots of people are different than I.
I simply must find them out.

All life's full of priceless treasure
buried in fearful hearts.
'Twill be my quest across desert and sea
with neither map nor chart.

If my steps be taken at a steady pace,
if my will shall persevere,
if my heart shrink not at the daunting task,
then I'll travel the stars...right here.

Posted: Sun Apr 19, 2009 7:13 pm
by Mlou
My reverie
knits together
and dreams,
shifting thoughts
that ebb and flow
like the tide.
In simple silence my
gossamer moment
passes, yet
creates in me
new strength to
journey on.

Posted: Mon Apr 20, 2009 11:54 pm
by mslover
i think maybe we should hold this one over for another week???

nice job you two! mae...memories make for good poetry :) i like the directions you each took with all the challenges.

Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2009 10:42 am
by Olsenpotter
I should be working on finals, but...

Inside Out

From the outside,
it looks perfect.

Baby due,
Business Booming,
Life running according to some plan.

And then my friends,
one has an MBA in Business,
the other works at Wal-mart,
say, "we wish we were you."

They dream of a life
where they have to do nothing,
a wife that makes dinner,
washes the clothes,
does the dishes,
mows the lawn,
and makes $75,000
a year.

But from the inside,
my side,
it's not perfect;
working 4 jobs,
going to school full time,
picking up any extra cash.
And having people say,
"English will never amount to anything,
Good thing your wife makes so much
to support your creative a**".

I laugh.
She only makes $33,000.

Where does the rest come from?

Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2009 10:56 am
by Olsenpotter
Quando A Chuva Passar

That's the name of the song
we danced to
at our wedding.

And the song sang,
"I just want to remind you
of when we walked in the stars;
the beautiful hours that we passed together.
All we wanted was to love and love.
Our story isn't over,
because this storm will end."

When the rain passes over,
when the sky opens,
and I open the window
I'll see that you are the sun,
you are the sky and the sea,
I am yours and to that end
our love is too immense
to be strangled by rain.

All the guest just stared.
They didn't understand why we picked that song.
They misunderstood the words,
the emotion,
the joy of being so in love
that, even when storms come,

we dance our own dance,

we sing our own words,

we love.

Posted: Sat May 02, 2009 5:57 pm
by Mlou
Poignant, OP! I do like it a lot.

Posted: Mon May 04, 2009 9:10 am
by mae
Olsen, I've read your wedding song poem several times now. It was lovely the first time and is no less lovely now. No, wedding guests probably wouldn't understand why you had that song at your wedding (if, indeed, this is really autobiographical. You never know with you! :) ) but I think it shows wisdom - that you're prepared or preparing.

Nicely done.


Posted: Mon May 04, 2009 9:14 am
by mae
Olsen, re: Inside Out - another good, thought provoking poem from OP. It's true, the view we have of other people's lives is usually skewed, like looking through water. What we see - or think we see - often bears no relation to reality.


Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 6:36 pm
by mae
Olsen, I just read your poems again, and I melt - as before - at your wedding song poem. That is, sniff...BEAUTIFU-U-UL!!! Sniff. I love it.


Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 8:38 pm
by Olsenpotter
You know every word of encourage from you spurs me to write even more poetry.
So here, just you, a poem. I hope you enjoy it.


The name recalls Brazil
and the sambaing lights of the beach.

I was alone for the first time.
Out of the basement
and into distant lands.

It took me 6 months
and kind lady,
named Mother,
to learn the language.

Now I'm on my own again.
Having come back a man
I entered a realm
that my family dared not tread:
English and the love of poetry.

So it's fitting that here,
in this land
where words mean more
than dollars,
I find another Mae.

Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 11:44 pm
by mae
How completely wonderful!!! Was your mother's name really Mae?

I love it, Olsen, and I am truly honored, by the poem and by the words before it. You've warmed my heart's very cockles!!!


Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 10:05 am
by Olsenpotter
Mae is Portuguese means mother.

Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 10:29 am
by mae
I didn't know that. Fabulous. I am in good company. Thank you.


Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 12:42 pm
by Mlou
What a great name for fitting!