Tag Archives: poetry

A Collaboration Poem

K:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping the algorithms which might know

there is a growing wind working and

watching the dissection of our souls.

A streetlight flickers on, the light is escaping.

L:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping the algorithms which might know

the growing wind is working,

watching the division of our souls.

A lamp flickers on. Light escapes.

We long to be mathematicians,

But our potential shut down when

the bulb burnt out, filling the air

with the smell of extinguished candles.

A computer flickers on. Ideas escape.

K:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

Mapping the algorithms which know

The growing wind is working,

Watching the decay of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

Longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated when

the first bulb burnt out, staining the air

with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, as our ideas

Struggle with basic equations.

Eating the spoonfuls of grey matter

Offered to children in school yards,

We’ve stopped earning our daily bread.

A stove flickers on, as hungry

L:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping the algorithms which know

the growing wind is working,

watching the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated when

the first bulb burnt out, staining the air

with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, our ideas

struggle with basic equations.

Eating spoonfuls of grey matter

offered to chemists in the playground.

We burn our daily bread when

The stove flickers on, hungry

elements watch us on the teeter-totter,

in perfect balance because we weigh

the same. Our theory disproved,

we head home with heavy

heads, dragging across the pavement.

K:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping the algorithms which know

the growing wind is swelling,

watching the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated when

the first bulb burnt out, staining the air

with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, our ideas

struggle with basic equations.

While we eat spoonfuls of grey matter

offered by chemists in the playground.

We burn our daily bread when

The stove flickers on, hungry

elements wait on the teeter-totter,

in perfect balance because our weight

cancels them out. Our theory disproved,

we head home with heavy

heads, dragging across the pavement.

The lamp flickers out, as daylight’s

homecoming carries in the

reeking of rotten leaves.

The growing wind is swelling,

watching the division of our souls.

L:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping algorithms that decide

the growing wind is swelling,

watching the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated

when the first bulb burnt out, staining the air

with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, our ideas

struggle with basic equations.

We eat spoonfuls of grey matter

offered by chemists in the playground.

We burn our daily bread when

the stove flickers on, hungry

elements on the teeter-totter,

in perfect balance because our weight

cancels them out. Our theory disproved,

we head home with heavy

heads, dragging across the pavement.

The growing wind is swelling,

watching the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers off, as daylight’s

arrival carries in the sulphur-reek

of rotten leaves.

K:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping algorithms that predict

the growing wind will swell and

watch the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated

when the first bulb burnt out, staining the air

with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, our ideas

struggle with basic equations.

We eat spoonfuls of grey matter

offered by chemists in the playground.

We burn our daily bread when

the stove flickers on, hungry

elements on the teeter-totter,

in perfect balance because our weight

cancels them out. Our theory disproved,

we head home with heavy

heads, dragging across the pavement.

Witness the division of our souls as

The lamp flickers off.  Daylight’s

arrival carries in the putrid reek

of rotten leaves

on the growing wind.

(Here we started to just tweak the

last stanza)

L:

The lamp flickers off. Daylight’s

arrival carries with it a growing wind

of rotten leaves. A sulphur-reek of

new ideas. The division

of our souls.

K:

The lamp flickers out as daylight’s

arrival carries in the sulfurous reek

of rotten leaves

on a growing wind. The division

of our souls.

L:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping algorithms that predict

the growing wind will swell

into the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated

when the first bulb burnt out, staining

the air with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, our ideas

struggle with basic equations.

We eat spoonfuls of grey matter

offered by chemists in the playground.

We burn our daily bread when

the stove flickers on, hungry

elements on the teeter-totter,

in perfect balance because our weight

cancels them out. Our theory disproved,

we head home with heavy

heads, dragging across the pavement.

The lamp flickers off. Daylight’s

arrival carries in the sulfur-reek

of rotten leaves

on a growing wind. The division

of our souls.

A Poetry Class Project

Poem: Grandmother’s Watch

Grandmother’s Watch

Kristen Hiemstra

 

I can see that you wear that old watch too slack.
It’s too big by far and hangs out from under the black
sleeve of your blouse.

Your daughters bought it years ago and gave it as a gift.
The time since then passed full of love, but too swift.
They were such little children then.

It never kept very good time, and now it works not at all.
You will not wear another despite this integral flaw.
It is a comfort now.

A lifetime ago you were his exuberant, glowing bride.
Now you are silent leaving the church to go outside.

A Self-Indulgent First Post

This is a poem I found on my computer’s hard drive.  I don’t remember what it means.  Let me know if you figure it out!

enjoy.

A man overcome by fragmented hope.

His space occupied by things unseen.

Laden heavy with impotent power

unable, charged and kinetic.

Proceeding, backwards and stagnant.

Forfeit offering shadowed in traffic.

Perspiring consequences ricochet

off the grave-less dead.

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