Players: SC, HC, AM, BL, JF
THEME POEMS
Directions: Each player is assigned a theme by chance. (Example: Eggs, Pigs, etc.) Poems are passed in a circle, and each player must respond to the above lines with a new line written in the constraint of their theme.
(1)
A cavern of dusty memories and winds
A yolk sprouting underarms
Infecting the timeline
Hippos with heavy eye-lids
Piggos with Chevy side-kicks
(2)
Slumbering clouds awake and look down on the misty town
The big pig nibbles on the twig of figs
Wandering in its hasty feast into the dark place under the cliff
Beyond a wall of feather flesh
The terror of the flesh tips the will to oblivion.
(3)
Nothing can stop them at this point… it seems…
To what far off lands shall they explore in dreams?
The pigs in wigs travel in their trusty ship
But all the waters go down, in time, in the earth
Towards the origin, the wheel, and the birth
(4)
Round, wet, hole-y
They’re deathly afraid of it…
Perchance they shall think on it, as they slumber
Their flickering snorts betray their presence in the dark
There is no-one to hear, then, but the stony walls
(5)
Pigs do not know where they will go
But always, inevitably, down below
Within the bird, a
Black hole asserts itself
Like spongy dreams soaking up the watering hole
FOLDOVER POEMS
Directions: Write a line of poem, fold over. The next person writes a line without seeing the rest of the poem.
(1)
Veins swimming eye in a laugh
And then there was a rending as of flapping wings
The tired typist had this to say:
My inner self leaks onto the floorboards
Release…
(2)
I spill forth and tickle as I trickle
It’s quite the uncomfortable feeling
Hair swallowing, running electron miles
And when at last the first eon had past
Close the book. Burn the scrolls.
(3)
The cursive of monks gives way to letter blocks
Trickling down, a red salty stream
God… not… it’s uncomfortable…
Microscopic elves dust my vomit
Having been born, it couldn’t return… just yet
(4)
Before time, there was something
I wish I were the letter “a,” or perhaps “j”
Will I ever truly heal? Oh Lordy!
The sun emits fumes
Intestinal dice as my own illuminating hum…
(5)
It’s been pent-up in there for a good day now…
Toe thumbing nose in a prank
When the singularity split, loneliness was abated and born
Socrates can only wish that he was literate
The pigs lick up the droppings. yum. yum.
