Here are the rules:
One copies the existing poem, adds a line, looks at the poem as written, edits it to her/his satisfaction.
Then the next poster does the same.
Four lines per verse. 16 lines is the end of the poem. the next poster titles the finished poem and starts the next poem.
We'll start with:
She swooned with every breathe of the moon.
( now the next poster copies the above line..adds ones line and edits my line as seems fit. The next poster{3rd line can undo any editing which she thinks shouldn't have been changed.} the final poem is 16 lines. The 17th poster gves the finished poem a title, then starts the new poem by creating the first line- and the structure rules of the new poem.. OK? this poem is 16 lines total, 4 lines per verse.
LK?
She swooned with every breathe of the moon.
Her love would arrive soon.
She swooned with every breathe of the moon.
Her love would arrive soon.
Her harlequin hoverd neath the oak tree where,
She swooned with every breathe of the moon.
Her love would arrive soon.
Her harlequin hoverd neath the oak tree where,
a dj was playing sonny and cher
sorry... :-[
She swooned with every breathe of the moon.
Her love would arrive soon.
Her harlequin hoverd neath the oak tree where,
A dj was playing sonny and cher.
The music never really died.
This is free form. Make up the rules as you go along. Everyone is invited.
What the hell do you think collaborative means?
She swooned with every breathe of the moon.
Her love would arrive soon.
Her harlequin hoverd neath the oak tree where,
A dj was playing sonny and cher.
The music never really died.
It lived on though they cried,
She swooned with every breathe of the moon.
Her love would arrive soon.
Her harlequin hoverd neath the oak tree where,
A dj was playing sonny and cher.
The music never really died.
It lived on though they cried,
Zappa would not let them censor the freedom.
She swooned with every breathe of the moon.
Her love would arrive soon.
Her harlequin hoverd neath the oak tree where,
A dj was playing sonny and cher.
The music never really died.
It lived on though they cried,
Zappa would not let them censor the freedom
As he knew to him she would soon come.
She swooned with every breathe of the moon.
Her love would arrive soon.
Her harlequin hovered neath the oak tree where,
A DJ was playing sonny and Cher.
The music never really died.
It lived on though they cried,
Zappa would not let them censor the freedom
As he knew to him she would soon come.
'Cross flaxen fields of flotsam he came,
She swooned with every breathe of the moon.
Her love would arrive soon.
Her harlequin hovered neath the oak tree where,
A DJ was playing sonny and Cher.
The music never really died.
It lived on though they cried,
Zappa would not let them censor the freedom
As he knew to him she would soon come.
'Cross flaxen fields of flotsam he came,
The skipper said Gilligan was to blame
She swooned with every breath of the moon.
Her love would arrive all too soon.
The harlequin hovered neath an oak tree
Where a DJ was playing Sonny and Cher.
She knew the music never really died.
It lived on forever though they cried,
Zappa would not let them censor freedom
As he knew to him she would soon come.
'Cross flaxen fields of flotsam he came,
The skipper said Gilligan was to blame
But wrecked and wracked he took her hand
She swooned with every breath of the moon.
Her love would arrive all too soon.
The harlequin hovered neath an oak tree
Where a DJ was playing Sonny and Cher.
She knew the music never really died.
It lived on forever though they cried,
Zappa would not let them censor freedom
As he knew to him she would soon come.
'Cross flaxen fields of flotsam he came,
The skipper said Gilligan was to blame
But wrecked and wracked he took her hand
Knowing she was his Promised Land.
She swooned with every breath of the moon.
Her love would arrive all too soon.
The harlequin hovered neath an oak tree
Where a DJ was playing Sonny and Cher.
She knew the music never really died.
It lived on forever though they cried,
Zappa would not let them censor freedom
As he knew to him she would soon come.
'Cross flaxen fields of flotsam he came,
The skipper said Gilligan was to blame
But wrecked and wracked he took her hand
Knowing she was his Promised Land.
Through iron clad sky and volcanic night
She swooned with every breath of the moon.
Her love would arrive all too soon.
The harlequin hovered neath an oak tree
Where a DJ was playing Sonny and Cher.
She knew the music never really died.
It lived on forever though they cried,
Zappa would not let them censor freedom
As he knew to him she would soon come.
'Cross flaxen fields of flotsam he came,
The skipper said Gilligan was to blame
But wrecked and wracked he took her hand
Knowing she was his Promised Land.
Through iron clad sky and volcanic night
His flaming led zeppelin was quite a sight
Collaborative Poetry I
She swooned with every breath of the moon.
Her love would arrive all too soon.
The harlequin hovered neath an oak tree
Where a DJ was playing Sonny and Cher.
She knew the music never really died.
It lived on forever though they cried,
Zappa would not let them censor freedom
As he knew to him she would soon come.
'Cross flaxen fields of flotsam he came,
The skipper said Gilligan was to blame
But wrecked and wracked he took her hand
Knowing she was his Promised Land.
Through iron clad sky and volcanic night
His flaming led zeppelin was quite a sight
The silver flute gave us a ride
While smashing guitars were gleefully fired
I started, and ended, the first poem. Someone else has to start the next,...,or,....this thread dies.
Ok I will give it a try
The wind was blowing on that night
Quote from: muggy on June 12, 2009, 05:49:02 PM
Ok I will give it a try
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Quote from: seen2much on June 12, 2009, 07:13:01 PM
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
I think this would work better if the quote option wasn't used. Copy and paste would work better on this one. :D
Seen2, where is your new line there with your advice? LOL
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
Quote from: mageepet on June 12, 2009, 09:22:21 PM
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
To bad that pleasure we are being denied
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
Too bad that pleasure we are being denied
I would have liked to sit by his side
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
Too bad that pleasure we are being denied
I would have liked to sit by his side
Well pull up a chair and sit for a spell
I think a story I am bout to tell
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
Too bad that pleasure we are being denied
I would have liked to sit by his side
Well pull up a chair and sit for a spell
I think a story I am bout to tell
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
Too bad that pleasure we are being denied
I would have liked to sit by his side
Well pull up a chair and sit for a spell
I think a story I am bout to tell.
About lands far away and maidens fair
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
Too bad that pleasure we are being denied
I would have liked to sit by his side
Well pull up a chair and sit for a spell
I think a story I am bout to tell.
About lands far away and maidens fair
Braves princes and dragons, ahiding in lairs
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
Too bad that pleasure we are being denied
I would have liked to sit by his side
Well pull up a chair and sit for a spell
I think a story I am bout to tell.
About lands far away and maidens fair
Braves princes and dragons, a hiding in lairs.
Wait! I think we'll watch a movie instead
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
Too bad that pleasure we are being denied
I would have liked to sit by his side
Well pull up a chair and sit for a spell
I think a story I am bout to tell.
About lands far away and maidens fair
Braves princes and dragons, a hiding in lairs.
Wait! I think we'll watch a movie instead
here comes Barny and there goes Fred
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
Too bad that pleasure we are being denied
I would have liked to sit by his side
Well pull up a chair and sit for a spell
I think a story I am bout to tell.
About lands far away and maidens fair
Braves princes and dragons, a hiding in lairs.
Wait! I think we'll watch a movie instead
here comes Barny and there goes Fred
The popcorn's poppin and almost done
The wind was blowing on that night
I stood at the window and looked at the light
From a distant beacon it grew ever near
Could it be Santa and eight tiny reindeer?
Heck no, it's not the fat man or his ride
How sad, cause he is really wide!
Too bad that pleasure we are being denied
I would have liked to sit by his side
Well pull up a chair and sit for a spell
I think a story I am bout to tell.
About lands far away and maidens fair
Braves princes and dragons, a hiding in lairs.
Wait! I think we'll watch a movie instead
here comes Barny and there goes Fred
The popcorn's poppin and almost done
So come on every body lets have some fun ;D