Poetry: lets share a little

O-in

As this is the creative writing link I just thought we should do some creative writing ourselves. I thought I would share something I wrote with you:

Scholars End

Six years have come to this
Final lesson of the day
My absent gaze stole my thoughts away

I saw past the classroom
And found my education

A school of children in the Sun
Consumed by conversation

I sat there once, amongst friends
Now I move on and leave my class
Graduate to something new and unsure...

Let me know what you think or just put something you wrote yourself up.

loopylala

Quite like this poem, it's very simple and childlike almost written from the perspective of a child/adolescent. It's like a rites of passage from youth to the complications/uncertainty of adulthood.

Outcast

It's a nice piece, I like the a school of children in the sun part.
I wrote this, it has a fairly similar theme.

And the grass was never greener than it was that Friday afternoon
Luminous in its sun soaked vibrancy
Against it our blouses were a brilliant white, ties slung loosely about our necks
Soft cushions under our heavy heads, the jumpers were far too warm for summer.
I felt that grass bristling softly against my face
As we lay strewn on the ground
Bodies forming an abstract circle
The breeze casting tendrils of hair across our faces.
It was the present, so tangible in the warm air
Our words and laughter and the barely tenable quavers in our voices
As we replayed old acts, looked back at years
Tried to peek behind the curtain at new scenes and characters still awaiting their cues.
It was the end
A finish line stretched to eternity
And the wispy images of time gone by could not finish the race
It was the beginning
An entire cast stood in the wings
Warming up, ready to step onstage
We had to squint to see them
For the past was hazy, rose tinted
And we were blinded by the bright lights of the future
So with wide eyes we looked at the moment surrounding us, flawless and clear
Picture perfect life in a bubble.
Time didn’t stop
It lazed along, a smooth brown river at middle tide
Unnoticed our watches ticked away the minutes
Yet the moment was different, time had changed
As though, in the midst of all its strands, grays, blacks, whites and navies
There was a dash of green, of the greenest grass.

O-in

I really enjoyed that poem, it did seem to have the same theme as mine but a more intense. What is it called?

My poetry still hasn't progressed to the stage I wish it to be at (perhaps more enthusiasm then talent). The poem was written from my persective as I sat in my final class of secondary school staring out the window.

Outcast

O-in wrote:

I really enjoyed that poem, it did seem to have the same theme as mine but a more intense. What is it called?

My working title was 'The Greenest Grass'. I wrote it when my friends were leaving school, and I was wishing that I was.

fishingrod

One time in my life my colour was green,

























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One time in my life my colour was green
with vim in my veins iswam with the stream
I went through a change that the chrysalis take,
went to sleep as a rain drop awoke as a lake.

Now music spans that yawning space,
a fragrance leaves its hiding place.
Vibrations clear the dusty nooks,
ideas dance, let off their hooks.

Change undertaken, metamorphosis complete,
my colour now is much more discreet.
I;ve managed to untie my mind of the knots,
now i;m the leopard that changed his spots.