Poetry Snippets/Stuff That Happens in Writing Class

Well, the first semester is under way! Here I am after the first full week of classes, still alive and kicking. I have my share of complaints, as I always do, but hey, things are MUCH better than they were last year! And I even somewhat enjoy my writing class (which I suppose is a good sign, since that's...my major). So, since I have been running out of ideas for posts, here are some snippets of poetry that we have been writing in class. It's not all mine, so forgive the cheesy, stupid bits...but the way it came together was cool, even if the actual poetry is lame-o.

If you've ever played Telestrations, we did something similar to that. Every student started off by describing a color they had seen recently, a striking color, and then passed the paper on. The next student added a line or two, inspired by the first bit. Then they folded over the top so that the third student would only see the second bit, and so forth. It was pretty cool, even though most of the poems ended up being rather strange. (As a side note, I did not take part in the writing of all of these, all credit due to my classmates.)

It was a very interesting and entertaining exercise...we didn't produce any of what you'd call actual art, but of course, we are just students, after all, and it was just an exercise to sort of get us comfortable writing in that setting. It was fun, anyway. I do apologize for the angsty, dramatic college student feel that some of these have...but it is quite fun to see how everyone's ideas fit together!

When the sun sets, 
The sky turns bright
Like golden chrysanthemums 
Finally bursting through their buds on a fall day.
A sun as huge as the sky, sending heatwaves below, 
Bringing misery to those who bask in its rays.

The glistening sun made it sparkle like the sea.

Moving as swift and confident as birds navigating through the sky.
A great river flowing fiercely through its environment.

It bursts its banks, sweeping along pebbles, plants, debris

Ravaging the earth and leaving black water in its wake.

A beautifully faint white dancing alone in the night

Like a young maiden beckoning to her suitor, twirling in a cotton dress of white. 

A tranquil snowbed with a glittering shine, 

Wind slinks on the snowbed, lifting the crystals

To shine with the stars.

The bright lone light of moonlight at midnight reflecting

Off of windows and trees, luminating the darkness around us. 

Delicate white moths darting around, striking a 

Contrast to the silent hour of midnight.

Yet there is no lamp, no flame, to guide them

As they fan out, filling the night, aimlessly fluttering from dark to dark.

As the world slumbers, they actively follow the moonlight,

The ball of fire which looms over the horizon, the enemy.

Flowers as red as if they'd been dipped in paint, 

As if they were made from a strawberry's skin, 

Like drops of blood upon snow, 

Petals danced in the wind before a gray sky.

My lips cracked and red continued to bloom, 

I tried to gain purchase on the snowy ground,

But only won small battles against the monolith of white.

It hurt but the beauty before me was hypnotizing. 

Bone--the white was like bone, 

Like the bones aching in my hands, my feet.

Everything ached, but the sharper pain

In my heart prevailed--I had to make it.

I would make it. 

Shining silver with a tarnished touch,

Antique, old but new,

Glossy and gray.

It shines like a star just fading away at dawn's peak.

Like a lantern, released by a child, 

To bring their wishes up to heaven.

A single candle flickered, lonely, 

And it's yellow light filled the empty room.

I sat at the red light as the electric blue Jeep drove by--

It made my black car look blacker than normal, 

As if my car was painted with a black hole, 

Swallowing all the light around it, pulling it in on itself.

My turn signals were blinking stars in a cloudless night sky,

Away from city noise and the blur of streetlights.

Only the stars remained in the darkness.

My head buzzed and my eyes cried,

And I shut everything from the blurs, the stars,

The lights that never, ever leave.

In the darkness, I could finally breathe.

And one last poem...this one was written solely by meself, but in an interesting way. We had three sheets of paper, each a torn-out page from different magazines. One page, I highlighted nouns, one verbs, and one adjectives, and then, from those words (though I added just a couple), we wrote some sort of poem. 

The culprit escaped, after murdering the dentist,

That medical swordsman who stabbed but lost.

Bullet points magnify a complex tattoo,

A toothbrush, a soft drink--evidence.

The remorseful actress has vanished, 

The nagging customer emerges to watch.

The culprit is on a bungee cord--he will not escape for long.

So that's what I've been doing...along with studying Shakespeare (I just finished the third act of King Lear and am enjoying it), studying French, and studying how to use Microsoft Excel! And of course the normal things that one does when one is not occupied with schoolwork. And, as much as I complain about summer being over (because, come on, that IS sad, you gotta admit), the promise of fall weather in the air is nice. It always smells better in the fall...what's with that? 

What are your opinions on poetry? 

Have you read Shakespeare? 

How is your end-of-summer going? 

Let me know in the comments!