It started with these two.
It started with these two.
The following poem the first big assignment for the writing class I took last semester.
It’s about a coming-of-age lady told in a metaphoric language, and the butterfly is the supposed end-result. Anyway, this poem can be read in 3 ways: Straight-on top to bottom, the bold lines, and the non-bold lines. Hope you like it :)
via hay blog hay
See all of my Creative Copy Challenge results here.
Keep, keep going,
but open your heart,
and listen hard: Why are you here? What is your purpose?
You must make some reason to believe
in the good things awaiting you.
Start thinking carefully
about your goodwill, as long as
it takes for you to get it and keep it real.
Because being one of the few
is like being a really sick patient who doesn’t take pills
it takes 100% patience, and that popularity is too mainstream.
While answering these questions,
enjoy the ride,
the quest to conquer your passionate soul.
Just a little something for our writing class. We’re supposed to describe our soul.
I thought of mine, I thought of my beloved, I elaborated the whole idea, and this is the result.
‘Tis little soul hops to and fro
jumping from pillow to pillow
giggles. I wiggle and jiggle my tail –
it tickles me.
At this high, I yearn for a fellow
to give for, of myself, at those pillows I throw
‘tis running Spirit belongs to my beloved Master
but it desires to come out and play! “Woof! Woof!” I want to feel alive!
I dream of a furry boy of my kind
who smells and feels bigger than my own
I get all soft in this bubbly air.
What huge rear!
What big ears!
And that wagging tail!
My Master sees through me, I pass the bone to this man;
all my helpings into his bowl. I drool.
Sharing is good, My Master once said. I share
in hopes that his protruding, pronounced nose would sniff back to
where it belongs – locked with mine, his my key.
I see him. He sees me. “Woof! Woof!”
Master kisses me softly, “Confidence, little one,” in my ears
I jitter. “Play with him. Have fun!”
We played in the bushes, wrestle and fondle our bodies –
we made it through the rainy day.
I’m your bitch, I bark. He licks my face
cushions his nose on mine. It felt warm while it’s cold
like a fallen raindrop nestling on the tip of my nose.
“Woof! Woof!”, he says. “Wife! Wife!”
His tail pointing at me as the first golden rays begin to arouse
‘tis feeling, it tickles me, our tails tangle as a spoonful of spaghetti;
I snuggle in his belly, he cuddles all of me
Our souls become one.
We are home. Me and him
and the Master of our little souls.
I recently learned how to write haikus in my creative writing class.
Haikus are a kind of poetry originated from Japan. Traditionally, a haiku consists of 17 syllables in total, usually in the order of 5, 7, 5 syllables a line. This week, I practice to write 3 haikus following that rule. Here goes:
Which is your favorite? :)
Just a poem I came up with while feeling emo. Nonetheless, enjoy.