I'll give you the Title - you give me the Poem

WickedEve

save an apple, eat eve
Joined
Oct 20, 2001
Posts
11,470
A simple challenge with many possibilities.
The title is Window On The Third Floor
Maximum length is 6 stanzas/36 lines.
One restriction: you can only use "window" in the title - not in the poem. :)
 
Window On The Third Floor

The thud is louder
when it comes from 3 stories up.
I saw the free fall from sill to sidewalk.
The plummet was so quick
I didn't have time to shove Grandma out of the way.
She was treated for scratches.
I think she'll sue for the shredded
"Grandmas Do It With Fresh Baked Cookies" tee.

Still, it was fortunate Grandma was there.
She padded the Siamese's landing.
 
excellent!

At first I was nervous. reading about people falling from windows this close to our 9-11 rememberances, but the poem really took a turn and had a surprise ending! The tee shirt line is great!

Q - How am I and Grandma's cookies alike?
A - We're both freshly baked!

Great job, Eve!
 
window on the third floor

work fluttered to the floor
with his pinstripes
her lace
their decorum

hunger smeared against the glass
with her nipples
his hands
their communion

lust bloomed between my fingers
with her arch
his thrust
my vision
 
Re: excellent!

Star At Sunrise said:
At first I was nervous. reading about people falling from windows this close to our 9-11 rememberances, but the poem really took a turn and had a surprise ending! The tee shirt line is great!

Q - How am I and Grandma's cookies alike?
A - We're both freshly baked!

Great job, Eve!
Star, I didn't make any 911/3rd floor window connections when I thought of this. As you can see, Grandmas and cats were on my twisted mind. lol

Q - How am I and Grandma's cookies alike?
A - We're both half-baked! :D
 
Re: window on the third floor

perky_baby said:
work fluttered to the floor
with his pinstripes
her lace
their decorum

hunger smeared against the glass
with her nipples
his hands
their communion

lust bloomed between my fingers
with her arch
his thrust
my vision
I love what you did with the poem, perky. Should "my" be in there with "him" and "her?" Threesome?
Oh, nevermind. lol I get it. You're watching. ;)
 
Re: Re: window on the third floor

WickedEve said:

I love what you did with the poem, perky. Should "my" be in there with "him" and "her?" Threesome?
Oh, nevermind. lol I get it. You're watching. ;)

hehehhe, naughty ME!!!
 
Window On The Third Floor

            Window On The Third Floor

                  Looking out on rain
        Watching whales wend their way
                        wearily
                                        wondering why
        how much they weigh
                          &nbsp           when will we know
                   as they go buy

        Cheese Doodles and Milky Ways
            secretaries all
        &nbsp   &nbsp   widely   &nbsp   &nbsp     spread

              &nbsp   &nbsp   fat on bread


Regards, Rybka
 
Fall from the third floor(Window on the third floor)

Peering out through the pain
staring at the busy
commodidties below
loosing stock
bad risk
jump
 
Re: Fall from the third floor(Window on the third floor)

_Land said:
Peering out through the pain
staring at the busy
commodidties below
loosing stock
bad risk
jump
Hey, except for "through the pain", a great poem.

Regards,
 
Re: Re: Fall from the third floor(Window on the third floor)

Senna Jawa said:
Hey, except for "through the pain", a great poem.

Regards,


What would you suggest?
 
Re: I'll give you the Title...

 



  Window On The Third Floor




                i look down
                the words from behind
                push me push
                i turn and leave through the door

                i look up
                from the sidewalk
                and still higher
                a bird silhouette
                glides under bright clouds



Senna Jawa
2002-09-15
 
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Re: Re: Re: Fall from the third floor(Window on the third floor)

_Land said:
What would you suggest?
I don't know--poetry is not easy. But even removing the first line is better than including it.

Regards,
 
Re: Fall from the third floor(Window on the third floor)

_Land said:
Peering out through the pain
staring at the busy
commodidties below
loosing stock
bad risk
jump

I'll twist it a bit, as I have time. And offering a solution is part of the great process we call poetry, instead of just being an abrupt dickhead.<smiling sweetly>

so here goes.

I have to agree the first line should be implied poetically instead of stated.

Staring down
at busy commodities
risky stock
lost options
jump


notice I added some words, but gave the same feel and added an extra layer with the stock options, but word play with life choices. There was too much of a jump between your bad risk and jump. I wasn't feeling the reason "bad risk" didn't work for me.

If I went to far with my edit, forgive me. But I enjoyed your perspective from the third floor.
 
Third Floor Fire Escape 1980

Creak open wooden sash
C'mon girl!
Steve climbs through
I take his hand

step out it's grand
on the fire escape
feels nice and cool
us, the blanket, wine

go fine with hot mouths
and summer skin smells
vulnerable to me
sweet like berries

overripe about to burst
the worst was when
we parted panting
and ohfuck granting

we were young. dumb,
unaware we failed
to notice on the street
some happy guy stood

his night complete.
 
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Re: Re: Fall from the third floor(Window on the third floor)

Thanks Perky, sometimes I havnt got the luxury of sitting and looking at what I write, and when you first write something its hard to detatch yourself and read it like it was some one elses words. Great Edit, and no you didnt go to far ;)





perky_baby said:


I'll twist it a bit, as I have time. And offering a solution is part of the great process we call poetry, instead of just being an abrupt dickhead.<smiling sweetly>

so here goes.

I have to agree the first line should be implied poetically instead of stated.

Staring down
at busy commodities
risky stock
lost options
jump


notice I added some words, but gave the same feel and added an extra layer with the stock options, but word play with life choices. There was too much of a jump between your bad risk and jump. I wasn't feeling the reason "bad risk" didn't work for me.

If I went to far with my edit, forgive me. But I enjoyed your perspective from the third floor.
 
Window On The Third Floor

the saddest of times
that invisible pivot
at the end of the party
of silent concurrence
everyone collects
their belongings
their lighters and jackets
their raincoats and dates
one last beer hanging
from plastic rind's five fingers
perfunctory remarks
seemingly insincere
acknowledge the hostess
and leave
shutting the door

and in the utter silence
the party's wake
as voices recede down the hall
she sits facing west
perched in striated light
and considers a leap of faith
 
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Re: Re: I'll give you the Title - you give me the Poem

Lauren.Hynde said:
Window On The Third Floor

the saddest of times
that invisible pivot
at the end of the party
of silent concurrence
everyone collects
their belongings
their lighters and jackets
their raincoats and dates
one last beer hanging
from plastic rind's five fingers
perfunctory remarks
seemingly insincere
acknowledge the hostess
and leave
shutting the door

and in the utter silence
the party's wake
as voices recede down the wall
she sits facing west
perched in striated light
and considers a leap of faith
Such a good poem, but that last part is excellent.
"she sits facing west
perched in straight light
and considers a leap of faith"
 
Re: Third Floor Fire Escape 1980

Angeline said:
Creak open the window
C'mon girl!
Steve climbs through
I take his hand

step out it's grand
on the fire escape
feels nice and cool
us, the blanket, wine

go fine with hot mouths
and summer skin smells
vulnerable to me
sweet like berries

overripe about to burst
the worst was when
we parted panting
and ohfuck granting

we were young. dumb,
unaware we failed
to notice on the street
some happy guy stood

his night complete.
As usual with your poetry, I can feel this one. I feel as though I'm there... but I'm not the guy on the street. lol
 
land, good poem, and perky's edit made it even better. You should submit this one, if you haven't already. :)
 
Fire Escapes and Things

Eve, I didn't think it was you there on the street(lol); you're younger and much better looking! Although if you had been on the fire escape too, I'll bet ol' Steve would have been really happy.

Again, a great thread and another way to get us writing. Thank you!

I really like the poems on this thread so far, but one in particular I wanted to comment on--

Window On The Third Floor

the saddest of times
that invisible pivot
at the end of the party
of silent concurrence
everyone collects
their belongings
their lighters and jackets
their raincoats and dates
one last beer hanging
from plastic rind's five fingers
perfunctory remarks
seemingly insincere
acknowledge the hostess
and leave
shutting the door

and in the utter silence
the party's wake
as voices recede down the wall
she sits facing west
perched in striated light
and considers a leap of faith



Lauren
, I love your poem. The images are concrete--I can see people saying goodbye to the hostess, filing out. I have often thought about this subject as one that cries out for poetry (although, arguably, everything does--no?). There is something elegaic about everyone leaving after all the merriment, and you really captured it.

It reminded me of the following lines from T.S. Eliot's "The Wasteland" in part 2, "A Game of Chess."

"HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

Goodnight Bill. Goodnight Lou. Goodnight May. Goodnight.
Ta ta. Goodnight.
Goodnight ladies, good night, sweet ladies, goodnight, goodnight."
 
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Re: Re: Re: I'll give you the Title - you give me the Poem

WickedEve said:

Such a good poem, but that last part is excellent.
"she sits facing west
perched in straight light
and considers a leap of faith"
:)

I'm glad you liked it, Eve. It came to me unusually quickly, for me. Thanks for the comment and for the challenge. Wonderful idea.

P.S.: Actually, I really meant to say "perched in striated light", but now that you wrote "straight light" I'm having second thoughts. What do you think?

P.P.S.: Angie, your poem is great! If I didn't know better, I'd say you're turning Wicked :D
 
Re: Fire Escapes and Things

Angeline said:
Lauren , I love your poem. The images are concrete--I can see people saying goodbye to the hostess, filing out. I have often thought about this subject as one that cries out for poetry (although, arguably, everything does--no?). There is something elegaic about everyone leaving after all the merriment, and you really captured it.

It reminded me of the following lines from T.S. Eliot's "The Wasteland" in part 2, "A Game of Chess."

"HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

Goodnight Bill. Goodnight Lou. Goodnight May. Goodnight.
Ta ta. Goodnight.
Goodnight ladies, good night, sweet ladies, goodnight, goodnight."
Thank you, Angie. You're so right. And that reminded me of something else too! Lou Reed's Goodnight Ladies:

Goodnight ladies, ladies goodnight
It's time to say goodbye
Let me tell you, now, goodnight ladies, ladies goodnight
It's time to say goodbye

Ah, all night long you've been drinking your tequilla rye
But now you've sucked your lemon peel dry
So why not get high, high, high and
Goodnight ladies, ladies goodnight
 
And Speaking of Soft Thuds

Eve wrote:

The thud is louder
when it comes from 3 stories up.
I saw the free fall from sill to sidewalk.
The plummet was so quick
I didn't have time to shove Grandma out of the way.
She was treated for scratches.
I think she'll sue for the shredded
"Grandmas Do It With Fresh Baked Cookies" tee.

Still, it was fortunate Grandma was there.
She padded the Siamese's landing.


I went back and read Eve's sly, funny poem. Poor Grandma! (hehe). It put me in mind of this memory, which did not happen from a third-floor window, but is sorta similar. (I think my mother still has not forgiven my dad and me for giggling hysterically at the time.)


Dinner out on Mother's Day
dressed up we slide into
red-leather pleated booth

Ho Wah

Restaurant of some smallville repute
the snazzy bar replete with silky
vivid drinks all luxe and panoramic
paper parachute abristle
brought to you by "Tommy,"
slithering among the tables silent
haute unapproachable cute.

Giant tassled menu hurts my head
to look at choices so instead I eye
the room for some other poor soul
familial and duty-bound like me
to share a glance of stoic sympathy
suffer pu-pu platters and volcano
steak brought out aflame held high
escorted like a bride I want to die
what must they think of us that we
applaud such silliness I feel just
clueless out of loop O' they'll be pissed
when I say really only soup for me.

But I am saved before my name is Mud
my musing broken by the thud and soft
oof of my Grandma whom I really love but
who should not have worn that silk dress
or sucked down that huge tricolored thing
silk sliding and I'm snickering dear god
she's drunk and laying on the rug.

Of course she's fine her corsage none
the worse for wear my father and me
quite the pair insert her safely by the
wall but not before some waiter gliding
by the burning pu-pu platter hoisted
on the tray smiles viciously and stops
to say:

Did Grandma fall on Mother's Day?
 
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Great thread

Wow, the poems in this thread knock me out. I'm really impressed by all of them, there's not a weak one in the bunch. Who knew that a third floor window could be such a poetic image?

Great work, everyone!
 
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