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 Poetry Challenge #5
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alf

Singapore
92 Posts

Posted - 13 Sep 2005 :  22:37:58  Show Profile  Email Poster  Reply with Quote
Today's Poetry Challenge comes courtesy of the French language, and Babelfish:

Write a poem with the following words/phrases:

high-speed

motorboat

minks

a little strange

places

benevolence



tweedlesinpink

7 Posts

Posted - 14 Sep 2005 :  07:10:53  Show Profile  Email Poster  Reply with Quote
Randomly, you can read that series of words out to get some semblance of a sentence;

High-speed motorboat minks a little strange places benevolence. (: It reads fairly well, too.
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ssgan

Singapore
4 Posts

Posted - 14 Sep 2005 :  12:23:39  Show Profile  Email Poster  Reply with Quote
“Why Indians Must Run Around Trees in Movies”

Because life is circuitous and tree, the symbol of life.
Because going around beats a high-speed chase sometimes;
Taking the time to mull, drawing out the venom.

You see the entire emotions through their eyes, their torsos, much singing and jingling. It may be a little strange but physical touch actually comes only after prolonged playacting like the snake and ladder game. The western movies go from hi to kisses to bedroom scenes in quick casino type card shuffling, never mind the cowboy boots and heavy minks.

After that, as bonus you might get to see a waterfall scene. Some read it as symbolizing things bad going downstream, vaporizing – like froth of agitated water after the disappearing motorboat. I just take the scene, as it is, pure and refreshing. Lulled by a sense of benevolence, I even forgive myself for the day’s unfinished tasks.

But alas! As Indian movies go places, there is a trend towards club pole-dancing and bedroom romping in Indian movies. Western copying?

I prefer the metaphor of two flowers touching than the jarring meshing of two bodies.
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alf

Singapore
92 Posts

Posted - 14 Sep 2005 :  21:49:59  Show Profile  Email Poster  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by ssgan

“Why Indians Must Run Around Trees in Movies”

Because life is circuitous and tree, the symbol of life.
Because going around beats a high-speed chase sometimes;
Taking the time to mull, drawing out the venom.

You see the entire emotions through their eyes, their torsos, much singing and jingling. It may be a little strange but physical touch actually comes only after prolonged playacting like the snake and ladder game. The western movies go from hi to kisses to bedroom scenes in quick casino type card shuffling, never mind the cowboy boots and heavy minks.

After that, as bonus you might get to see a waterfall scene. Some read it as symbolizing things bad going downstream, vaporizing – like froth of agitated water after the disappearing motorboat. I just take the scene, as it is, pure and refreshing. Lulled by a sense of benevolence, I even forgive myself for the day’s unfinished tasks.

But alas! As Indian movies go places, there is a trend towards club pole-dancing and bedroom romping in Indian movies. Western copying?

I prefer the metaphor of two flowers touching than the jarring meshing of two bodies.




Could do with editing ("but alas"?!) but this actually works for me! thanks for posting it.
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PN_Sparky

Singapore
2 Posts

Posted - 16 Sep 2005 :  18:47:26  Show Profile  Email Poster  Reply with Quote
My dear, is this your world?

Money- needed urgently, to enjoy materialism,
High-speed motorboats and motorcycles,
Who cares about the idealism?
Reduce, reuse and recycle…
Are you joking with me my dear?

Plastic culture is always fantastic.
Who loves not my beautiful fur coat?
I can make dead minks look majestic,
On my grand high-speed motorboat.
Would you join me, my dear?

Forget about the environmentalists,
We know they are a little strange.
To care about a place as this,
You must be a little deranged.
What is benevolence, my dear?



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youzi

Singapore
1 Posts

Posted - 21 Sep 2005 :  23:30:16  Show Profile  Email Poster  Reply with Quote
I'm (obviously) terribly new to this. Help?


Nocturnal

Mistaking darkness for emptiness,
you delved like a broken animal into mink coats,
swallowing night for the acid taste
of any mother's milk.

You picture home, framed achingly
by the fingers of Erebus
blotting out the moon with his index finger,
because you wanted to avoid places
that were recognizable by day.

(This seems a little strange,
especially since you remember
swearing allegiance to amnesia)
but there were moments,
perhaps of benevolence
where, piecing dust bugs together
under the scrutiny of street-lamps
you could (still) catch glimpses
of his offending shadow, encircled by
smoke rings that culminate
into the smudged impression
of an open mouth suckling at his throat.

You chalked in fangs, but refrained,
recoiling from blood which you imagine
to collapse, erupting from arteries
with an unfettered motorboat's spray to leave you.

You avoid the perils of sleep,
dissecting your common,
unborn dreams (or nightmares)
into high-speed fragments chasing after
elusive eidolons of passion, finally discarded
to daybreak, shattering
at the first hint of light.

In the morning
you are horrified to see him absconding
with your desperate denials of insomnia.




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Christan

Singapore
2 Posts

Posted - 06 Oct 2005 :  15:39:39  Show Profile  Email Poster  Reply with Quote
The New Wife

He swung out into the horizon again, high-speed,
Bent forward in his motorboat,
The sun in a slow-dive over the island.
I don’t know why I am here

In this expensive house on the beach.
I will be shown off tomorrow
At the wedding on his yacht. How many
Women would kill to be in my shoes?

I wander into the walk-in wardrobe, touch
Every dress I could never afford,
Stroking a few minks, shawls and, finally,
The wedding-dress. I have come

This far. Married to a movie-star,
A photographer's assistant, whose parents
Dragged themselves over the waves
In a hot and overcrowded boat for days

So they could make this country our home.
“He met you at a party? How long
Do you think this will last?”
I brush the words from my head.

I hated the parties. I hated his friends.
But I don’t hate him.
If I learn to love him, this might
Even last. Outside, the scorched sky

Has begun to look a little strange, clouds
Darkening in places. It could rain
Tonight, but I am unsure. A cool wind
Haunts the room like a moment of benevolence.

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Melor Putih

Singapore
3 Posts

Posted - 22 Oct 2005 :  23:43:42  Show Profile  Email Poster  Reply with Quote
I don't know what it means to be free
Girls gassed by love giggling like minks in front of a cute soldier
An adulterous couple snatching kisses and groping at high speed
A motorboat docked in the garage of a refugee camp
Pages of frenzied poetry on a chemistry exam
Or silent prayers stapled to the moon

Is it a little strange to want to fall
Of all the places I fear, I think I fear my life most of all
Benevolence is just a dirty word dictators use
When they choose not to shoot you in the head
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