Poets Turning Words Into Poems! Now Extinguished! |
[Introduction]
The Milkman has a campfire that I really enjoy that he created years ago - Check it out to see how it's done -
In it you write a poem using a word given to you by the person writing before you. It can be a short haiku or a longer poem, rhyming or not whatever you want, just make it poetic. It can be about anything and be any type of poem. No restrictions except please respect the rating of this campfire. Many moons ago, I started "A Poem A Week Campfire I" and then "A Poem a Week Campfire II" and we have worked to make nice campfires. Now, after receiving a few requests, in order to include more of my friends and to make new friends (I hope - ) I have started another one here! If your poem isn't in after a week, I'll skip so don't get your feelings hurt if I do skip you. This will move at least once a month, I promise. .... Unless I forget, then you can feel free to nag me about it, but I'll do my best to remember. And if I can't think of anything in a week, I'll even skip myself. Thanks to The Milkman for agreeing to be in the first one and for GENEROUSLY sharing his idea. Remember to not get your feelings hurt if and when you are skipped in this and everything will be fine and hopefully you will have fun! If you can't think of anything, feel free to skip yourself. Thanks for being in it! And if you want to be in it, please email me! Note: If you forget to give the next camper a word, I'll supply it or if I don't remember to do that - supply your own word! You can even try and give the next person a new word that comes from your own poem! Whatever you do, have fun and Write! |
Empty When Full Names written in the dust Transient life momento Taken with the wind Lives lived in despair Ecstatic derelection Duty abandoned Nothing difficult Challenges build fortitude Revealed in good time Timeless destiny Hourglass remains empty Trials are over Century of change Unifying invention Blown all to pieces..... Your word is: momento |
Endlessly Your word is reckoningAnd so I travel Endlessly wandering Souvenir of rain Here is a voyage Endlessly questioning Momento of pain Time is a puzzle Endlessly beckoning Memory of light And so I ponder Endlessly reckoning Burial of night |
The air crackles with electricity. Fire touches the sky. Alone, I stand at the edge of eternity. I raise my arms and call out, every fiber of my soul in agony. The beginning of all things, The end of all things. The shadows form and coalesce into a face both loved and hated. The challenge is sent, The answer is, "Yes!" I smile at my enemy and at my love. It is time for payment--- It is time for reckoning Your word is believe |
"Have a Little Faith" They say seeing is believing, And for me that's generally true, But sometimes you need to have faith, And trust in what's hidden from view. Believe in fairies, dragons, and elves, Ghosts, goblins and other such beasts, For they exist regardless of your convictions- Your doubt bothers them not in the least! Accept that there are witches and magic, And that mother nature changes the season, That angels look down on us from above, And things really do happen for a reason. Put your trust in a higher power, Knowing things will go the right way, And you will live a long, healthy life, Enjoying love and happiness every day. Karen Dean Salter 4/12/05 Your word is Luminous |
~*~ My lushous garden portrays the image on the magazine cover ~*~ Bringing bright colors of daffodils and tulips to our tiny home ~*~ The young apple tree has opened up its green leaves preparing for bloom ~*~ The beauty of spring has awakened our senses dormant from winter ~*~ Your word is Mural |
I hesitated at the front of line right in front of the spicy shrimp the steam rolling upwards ready to cover my tears, had the sneeze guard not been there to trap the mist. I remembered how much you liked the spicy shrimp. Funny isn’t it? How the memories of our lives have no regards for time or place? They just run themselves wildly through our minds like murals painted by frantic artistic colors and pictures linking in a crazed spiral of emotions tugging at the very heart of pain. Your word is Blue Dishes |
On the Day I Left On the day I left her, my mother’s gaze ambled around me, with shocked recognition, for the horizon had changed and her hand was raising an empty cup to her lips, under the eyes of blue dishes of weathered stone, perfectly reflecting words held at arm’s length and an eternal empty space. On the day I left her, a cobalt storm, like a dancer spinning zigzag between shadows, unwrapped things I could speak of to no one. ***~~*** Your word is caravan |
Caravan Come on everyone let's go Arriving there in a day or so. Right behind one another Allow room for no other Very close we will trail Add to this caravan at the tail Night-driving and the time will sail. Tammy Your word is Peace |
The phone call comes. The news--I cannot bear. Such a few words that bruise the tender-hearted with fear. Unbidden panic roils in giddy, sickening waves. Trying to swamp the unaware, Waiting to see if she caves. Striving to hold in the peace, I pour sweet, fragrant oil on the turbulent wells of grief. Cherishing my star that once shone. Peace be with you, Uncle Dougall Next poet, your word is: {b{{c:lkhaki}cherish |
Times with you I cherish Memories to keep me warm in old age Deep in my mind I keep a book Your picture is on every page. I see your smile so open I'll cherish that smile for all of my life I turn a page and I recall The day that I became your wife. I cherish every picture now I can no longer see your real face, dear An ancient volume, old and worn Keeps you alive and ever near. Lynne. Next poet, your word is Avalanche |
Avalanche The sunlight glistens on the frozen tundra melting the icicles in my heart. As I watch the crystaline diamonds sparkle in the snow, my thoughts of you consume me. I dance to the music on the wind as an avalanche of memories encase my mind, and the thoughts of our forbidden love resurfaces with the thawing of my heart. You had left me suddenly, with out a word, and tore my world in two. So I buried myself in a frozen wasteland, frigid against any who would dare to enter. Now no longer entombed beneath layers of ice, my desire for you has resurfaced. As I gaze upon your loving eyes, my world is warm again. Ginger Word for next poet canary |
Canary I decided to buy a pet. I wanted one that was cute and sweet. I promised that if it got sick, I would take it to a vet. I suddenly got worried. How much would it eat? I went to the pet store and saw a cute cat. It had a nasty smile- and reminded me of The Cat In The Hat. I will pass. I will look for something else even if I have to walk a mile. I found a yellow canary. I loved to hear it sing. The problem was, it was so hairy. I bought him anyway and I felt like a king. My canary shed his feathers. Now, he isn't so hairy. I love my new friend and he is there for me in all kinds of weather. I named him Cheater. A little song bird, my sweet canary. Your word is feathers. |
Phoenix Russet feathers fold downward, vanishing into vermillion flames. Only time will tell if amid the golden embers in their noble flight, if through the darkened ash and schisms of sunlight will she come to rise again. Your word is: origin |
I feel a certain rumbling, Inside my little tummy, Its getting louder as I speak, It's making me feel crummy. I try to make it quieter, But it doesn't want to listen, The frogs and toads and butterflies, Just keep on rubling and hissing. I don't know what's their origin, or how to make them cease, So i just fling myself onto my bed, and say "Go away please" Your word is "Peculiar" |
Talking to a mutual friend I was blindsided when he told me that you were with him at that moment. My heart didn't miss the beats it skipped because I was breathing so fast I didn't notice. Teased and tortured by memories far too clear for them to have happened three years ago, I blinked back tears, and asked you to say hello to him for me. On this side of the DSL connection I was shattered. Outside smoking, I try not to remember us. your word is: stranded |
You left me all alone, stranded, in a sea of sharks. I a mere cuddlefish trying in vain, I admit, to blend in. They sense my fear, I must reek of it. They come closer, closer still, sufficating me with their awesome power. My breath escapes, Coward! Come back! The lights are next to go. I have escaped! Breath returns reluctantly. Next the lights as I inhale deeply and open my eyes. Why are they smiling? What manner of mischeif are they planning? "You're new around here arn't ya, you play basketball?" Thus, was my first day at school. next word Hippo |
Lippo the Hippo Lumbering menace Displacing water body Still, there is a grace To this beastly one Shall we ask him to supper? Share some hay, kick back? Can a hippo kick back? What kind of name is Lippo? Will the herd disperse? Gossiping bovines Judgmental horned mooing throng Open your closed minds Welcome a writer Share your hay with this Lippo Grow with his friendship Better for experience Live beyond your daily cud! Your word is disperse |
The clouds of despair and doubt Crowd the sunshine out And rain falls on my head. The path I have chosen has led To a sharp incline instead of a gently sloping hill. Gravel challenges my will I slide further down until I reach the very first verse... And the clouds and rain disperse. Your word is skirt. |
My Daughter I can see you getting older every day I can see your personality emerging, In so many little unique ways. I want to stop time and keep you young. I want you to stay happy and carefree, Smiling, dancing, playing out of harm. I want to keep you always beside me, I want to keep you safe and secure. So pretty and tall with your curly hair, In your punky shirt and frilly skirt. So passionate with all your cares, So talented in all that you attempt. I will support you in all that you do, Remain by your side through thick and thin. My unconditional love will carry us through, And will one day set you free, to make your way. |
As no word was given, I chose my word as passionate from Tammy~Catchin Up~ 's poem above. The Change Trees swell in clouds of pink and white frills, abounding with the joy of Spring's exuberant bouquet. Birds are a-twittering, as they feed their young, nesting in haybarns and under the home's eaves. Lambs - black and white - bound around the paddock like coiled springs let fly, and with as little responsibility. Spring brushes away the cold with tender fingers of colour. With a passionate embrace it cloaks the world in new life. Your word: haybarn |
Romping in the haybarn Having such a lark, Footsteps come towards us, My boyfriend whispers, "hark!" We snuggle down into the hay, We are completely hid, The farmer doesn't know we're here, He'd go mental if he did. He's picking up a pitchfork, Oh, isn't this a farce, He stabbed it through a bale of hay And jabbed my boyfriend in the arse! Your word is: binoculars |
Looking through binoculars I saw what seemed to me. A mighty whale a floating Upon the briney sea. It wallowed in the shallows Just soaking up the sun. Enjoying life's sweet pleasures Staying cool and having fun. The gentle waves did brush its sides Caressing each blubbery fold. While the mighty whale twist and turned Then on its back it finally rolled. I watched it turn and float toward shore And worried that it might beach. And die alone on that burning sand With no family within its reach. My heart was pounding heavily As I raced down to the shore. Fearing I would be too late His death would be ever more. But as I reached the floundering whale my heart did miss a beat. It rose from out of the water And walked on its two feet. |
Beach I love to go to the Beach! Don't you love how the tides roll in? You try to touch them but they go back into the ocean and are out of reach. There they go. The waves are coming back in again. Seagulls fly and cry out in the sky- as I sit at the beach and write my next book. I look at the boats on the ocean as they sit up high-probably catching fish with their nets and hooks. It has been a nice sunny day. I try not to get too much sun. The sun is blinding me as I strain my eyes to look out over the bay. I see beautiful dolphins at play. The sea gulls fly to the lighthouse close by. The faithful monument that has protected ships over the years. I let out a sigh. I watch children and barking dogs on the pier. The sun is going down. I need to leave as my husband will soon be home. I take one last look at the beach and listen to all the sounds. Time to go. I have to pack for my trip to Rome. Your Word is: Protected |
Tai Shan Protected panda, we share a date China at two, don't be late Climb in your tree What's that you see? Eat your bamboo All day and night too Treasured are you for all your life Til you find a mate, a panda wife Life in a zoo, far from home Not too bad, your habitat roam Find a way to help bear cubs and others Bring them closer to their dads and mothers Your word is: habitat |
Sharing Spaces Little squirrel within my wall I really think you’re cute and all But must we share this house of mine? And can’t it be a tree you climb, Instead of bouncing on my roof? Your "scritch, scritch, scritch" is plenty proof That you are where you shouldn’t be You’re in my wall and not a tree. My house, it is my habitat. My house, it’s also where you’re at. I know you’re cute, but please just go. You keep me awake with your to and fro. What is that you said to me? You’re not a squirrel? What can you be? Little animal within my house... What are you then? Oh no, a mouse! Your word is snowflake |
Little snowflakes drift helplessly down tumbling into one another, piling in giant stacks of cold quiet they rest from their peerless journey. Having brought down the filt disguising their pain within the shell of their beauty, they await the melting- the time of cleansing, and washing away to the floods where they gather their strength to rise as warriors again ready to fulfill their downward purpose. Had I their courage- their conviction to continue my circle of purpose. It is there waiting for me. I need only ask for the light and I become the new snowflake falling gathering the dust and rubble of a lifetime disguising the pain within my shell and awaiting the melting- the time of cleansing. For I will rise as a warrior against the insanity of this circle that clouds me from my journey making me afraid to strike out against it. Make way for us snowflakes- we mean to cover you with peace for only then can we receive the light and the melting clean of the sun comes through. Your Word Is- Jealousy |
{/center} Jealousy I feel the whiff of insecurity…for chaotic, lucid, stealthy jealousy nails its herringbone fangs in your frail frame, stifling reason. You whine green, eaten alive in bits, every sinew, every bone rattling with the mad fever. Pride chases shame; wrath burns in the blood. To temper it, I still want my arms around you, at this precise moment before you end the world. ------------- Your word is borders. |
BORDERS Back off, get out of my space. Obvious emotions hidden Regrets lay alone, Dormant. Only to rise when Evoked by hurtful Realizations that Should BE left in the past. Tammy Next word is dormant. |
Settled within Sleeping, hiding Life yet to begin Waiting, biding Secret unseen Denied, uninspired Forgotten, never been Cloaked, choked Sun is rising Awaken New green shooting Unforsaken Your word: Uninspired |
Uninspired by Eugenia C Wesch I set my keyboard on my lap with fingers poised above. For writing poetry had become the pastime that I love. My fingers ached to pound the keys to create the perfect poem. But all I tried was not enough as I sat there all alone. The keys were cold the monitor blank not a letter on the screen. I scratched my head and bit my nails trying not to scream. As minutes passed and turned to hours the day darkened into night. My head was aching, my feet went numb My spine was feeling tight. As sadness made my shoulders droop and I felt so uninspired. I raised voice in an anguished cry and told my muse she's fired. |
I chose the word muse. Where would I be without my muse? I call my muse Princess Narnia but I sometimes change her name. With my muse, I can't lose- hopefully my writing will achieve some fame. I let my imagination run wild, I walk around the castle halls- sometimes I go back into my mind when I was a child. I know my muse will help me as my writing calls. I write a short story, I write a book. My writing is my glory. I would rather write then cook. I don't care if I write my life away. My muse Princess Narnia is by my side- as I write another day. Writing is my life and precious words I do live by and abide as I keep my pride! Your Word is: Fame |
Fame by Mara Cruvant Know or be known; Say or be said. Our stories are whispered Long after we're dead. Fame: it wants us, Not the other way 'round- For fame outlives bodies And bones in the ground. It hides all our goals To suit its desires. We can't keep our cool To fend off its fires. Unfair as this seems, Legends always go on. The stories Life pens Still sing when we're gone. ------------------- Your word is: goldfish |
Goldfish I cast my lot upon the shore, my shoes and clothes scattered in the sand. I inched my way into the silken waters while I clutched a goldfish gently in my hand. The water was deep and quicksilver sparkled on its surface. A slight breeze ruffled my hair and I waded in further with a definite purpose. Charlie was my dearest friend, a pet for many years. When I was nervous I watched him swim, he calmed away my fears. Now his death has hit me hard, I feel all alone you see. What more fitting final good-by then a burial at sea. Your word: INSCRIPTION |
center}A Tribute To Papaw I climb the hill as nettles sting my legs To see the stone that covers where you lie The honeysuckle clinging to the crags The pines that brush the blue Kentucky sky A man of many means, you farmed your land Menagerie of animals you kept The works of wood created by your hand The many folk that in your death they wept The sons and daughters and grandchildren young Were blessed to have your blood run through their veins The dark coal dust that blanketed your lung Took you too soon, your memory remains The inscription there is deeply etched in grey I hope to join you on that hill some day __________________________________________ Your word: DESIGN |
My Own Design Behind these innocent eyes, A shrine for reflective words. Smiling through a rain of tears, A prison of my own design. Forever alone, remembered in a dream, Stumbling through the past, Snowballing into tomorrow, Never let me go. He was always a stranger, His silence his calling card. Fields of glory turned sour- So long yellow brick tin man. Leave the Emerald City to me. Your word is "oddity" |
She was born to a family of Easterns who live by the sea and for the shore. Living in condos and eating shrimp cocktails they find her an oddity for sure. Because she chooses the rich soil of America’s entrails living on land and planting the seed. “Why, oh why”, they cry “has she left our shores in favor of yours?” “What beauty is there in land so flat and barren when one could gaze upon the waves?” She smiles in answer knowing they can not understand. Joyous in her decision and loving the choice for the beauty she sees in fields of wheat and open skies that glow blue with poised white clouds so elite only angels can touch their glory. It was her love that brought her there and if she be an oddity it is a commodity that gives her strength and courage to love beyond their pleasure-- all of God’s treasure. Your word is: Scarecrow |
Winter falls with a signature of snow, And hearths blaze a warmth while lit all aglow. The ground blanketed with a frigid frost, Something missing in the yard...something lost. "Where be the scarecrow?" cried the Granger man. "There be no other to do what he can..." There it peeked under this Season's embrace, Patiently awaiting next Season's grace. Spring leaps upon the opening flowers, Bringing honey air and April showers. Buzzing bees and busy birds fly about Singing sweet songs of love and songs of doubt. "There be the scarecrow!" said the Granger man. "There be no other to do what he can..." There it smiled with a glorious gold shine, A light so bright you might think it divine. Summer sears the pebbles of the sidewalk, And ants crawl silent as they slowly stalk. The treasure dwindles in the sultry sun, A plague that no beverage can make undone. "There be the scarecrow!" shouts the Granger man. "There be no other to do what he can..." There it rested in the shade one tree, Waiting for the next Season gleefully. Then Fall came and the leave's all changed their hue, The treasure found its way and quickly grew. And the birds came too, not one but many In fact one could count more than aplenty. "There be the scarecrow!" said the Granger man. "There be no other to do what he can..." There it stood, murder all about his place... Usually they scare, but not in this case. Your word is "glee" |
Summertime Invasion Redux A moth sips sun-warmed breakfast dew As songbirds bid the night adieu; Sweet melody, Without a warning growl or yell Invader, mindless, wields death’s knell With slashing blades and noxious smell; Heeds not the plea For mercy, nor gives reason why Cut row by row, the fallen cry Their elegy Resounds in nascent fledglings’ cries To reach the rainbow’s end, the skies Provoked to tears, let anger rise In sympathy ‘Till with a roar, the Furies’ might Unsheathed, a blade a searing light Does strike to end lawnmower’s blight To harmony. The mangled metal carapace Washed clean by summer’s rain, a place Where nestlings sip from clover buds And sing their glee. Next word, if you like = twilight |
To see the truth at twilight You don't need a house or skylight What's needed is a soul So lacking in the fold Politicians make a mess Economic shambles at best One no better than the last Truth dies in office so fast Rather live in a fabled story Life's rhyme love's true glory Make your days a mission won So, you smile at last when done Thanks to all my campers! This campfire stalled more than a year ago and a few of us have mooved on. I thank you all who contributed to this poetic journey! The End! |