Passion in Poetry
Often fellow poets challenge us to write poems on lines or subjects they provide. It's quite fun to do and to see how different poets interprete those challenges in their own style of writing.
| Marge's challenge 1: she gave us some titles to write poems to. I took the challenge on a few.
"When sunlight falls"
When sunlight falls upon the earth and covers it in her yellow light,
she says goodbye to the passed day and hello to coming night.
Caught in a moment she may last forever, when I hold her very tight,
but I know this is not truthful, she will disappear to the unknown side.
When sunlight falls upon my earth, she will be seen at someones side
and she will carry my love and friendship, so I hope they'll hold her tight.
For even if I do not know you, you can be sure my heart is yours tonight,
when I sleep the sleep of innocence, untill you send me again her light.
Marge's challenge 2.
"Mama, get off that train"
What would it be like, when they were yelling "Mama get off that train"
because if they did, it wouldn't be right, they would be shouting in vain.
You wonder why? Well I can tell, no trains are running 'round
in this here open country I live, we hear no Tsjuk Tsjuk sound.
Between the water Westerschelde and border of Belgium land,
we only have some villages and lots of beaches full of of sand.
When my girls were eight or nine, I thought it should be really fun
to show them what a train looks like, so this is what I've done:
I did take a train in Vlissingen, just after I took the ferryboat,
to visit my aunt in Haarlem, packed and carrying quite a load.
And when we were leaving the station, I was ready to explain,
but they started giggling loud, arousing all people in this train.
For two hours long I wasn't able to get a word there in between,
a giggling orgie between strangers, something I've never seen.
So when they finally quiet down, the train did stop at Rotterdam,
"Mama get off this train" they yelled and I said nearly "damn".
It seemed a bridge was broken and we had to proceed by bus,
there I went with two giggling girls, ordering them to 'hush'.
to tell a long story rather short, it took me most of the day,
to get to my aunt in Haarlem, wich was an ordeal I must say.
So really I am quite happy, that I hear no Tsjuk Tsjuk here,
"Mama get off that train", is something I do no longer fear.
| Marge's challenge 3.
"Take me back to yesterday"
Take me back to yesterday, or even the days before,
to sunshine and to happiness and maybe something more.
Today is not my day you know, today is dark and gray
and even if you smile at me, I won't come out to play.
Take me back to yesterday, when I was a little child,
I could roam the pastures then, full of flowers wild.
Today is not my day you know, for pastures are no more,
large buildings placed on land you see, wich was green before.
Take me back to yesterday, when loved ones weren't dead,
when I could hear them talking real, not only in my head.
Today is not my day you know, my head is full of voices,
constant ordering me around, I have to make some choices.
Take me back to yesterday and I'll just skip tomorrow
and maybe I forget about the gray and dark and sorrow.
Today is not my day you know, but you can change that fast,
if you'll take me back to yesterday, I'm sure I'll make it last.
| Marsha's challenge: The lines wich had to be used were "Until the stars grow dark and there is no more day" and "When the air catches fire and the seas dry to dust"
"Until the stars grow dark"
Until the stars grow dark and there is no more day,
You'll find me driving 'round, capturing moments so to say.
When the air catches fire and the seas dry to dust,
I simply can't stay home, for capturing moments is a mus.
How would I be able to show you, all the things I've seen,
If I did not capture the moment, on the moment it has been.
| Poet deVine's challenge:She gave us the last words in each line of an existing poem and we had to fill in the lines.
When you are always on the run,
Not a moment's rest under the sun,
Little time for a lovely dream.
or tender thought.
Life is flowing like a stream,
ending up in nought.
So seize her in the early morn,
Go barefooted on a misty lawn,
Enjoy a butterfly before she dies;
But watch out for the roses' thorn,
she is an angel in disguise.
You say Life will stay unfound?
You don't hear her lovely sound?
Then go look for what you crave.
You say where does all joy abound?
Well certainly not in a grave.
So throw away your own disguise,
And be the one you want to be;
Let Life enfold before your eyes
The insufficiency of vanity.
That's all there is to undergo,
Before you will be able to prize
Life's true vallue and you know,
There's so much love under the skies.
Worldwide © 2001 by Titia Geertman