Poetry Exercise no.1 - Time

Most people will agree that one of the best ways to improve poetry is to write regularly. A few years ago a lecturer of mine suggested that if I allowed myself to write quickly and without much thought, I would be able to explore my poetry on a different level.

As this forum is all about improving poetry I thought it might be fun for us to complete a variety of different poetry writing exercises that explore these two ideas. So without further ado, here is your first exercise:

-- Write a poem in under 5 minutes. Time yourself and post it in this thread. Feel free to share as many 5 minute poems as you like don't worry if you feel like they're unfinished.

I think I agree with many thoughts here, a regular writing is a good way to improve our poetry.

Here is an instant poem and I hope the others find the way to this thread, very exciting, thank you for posting this.

Back and forth,
Insomnia
of his own creation,
haunting her dreams,

sometimes evoking
many times provoking.

He is the man
of absence,
of closeness,
of desertion,

a suicidal moon
inflaming for hours
but
never lasting.

Nice thread!

The Shame, the shame!
Why is always the same?
It comes then goes
Like a boomerang of blues
It hits one right in the head
As the moon surveils the night
And trees tremble with our tears
Then one sobs, one cries,
But steps echo in our hearts
As curled up in a ball
We hear ourselves crying
The shame, the shame out
But we still remain prisoners
Visited by this shame sometimes.

July 21, 2015

----------

July 22, 2015 - 8:26 am - 8:31 am,

come to me like a star at night,
illuminate my skies.

There's a hill ahead of time,
that many climb to see life,
but as they climb their way up,
many tumble down and fall,
and some do rise
just like the sun does.

I wish to be the dew in the grass,
atop the mountain,
waiting as it dawns on me
our nature that we can't see
from the lower ground

That's a poignant point the lecturer made, Mel. I've heard of similar exercises. Letting the mind, soul, be free. Relaxed. If that can help one's writing and expression.

12:04 AM- 12:08 AM

Will I ever know why I dream strictly of you?
Is that God's intentions, to confuse the parts of me
that keep a distance from you, from your tendencies
to play the organ loudly and may I say obnoxiously
when bodies fill our Church but nobody listens.

I want you not to fill my lonely spaces, but to sing
with me, learn with me as we travel the loose roads
the Apostles preached on. We're merely travelers
in this life, under care, but not for each other.
I know that, but I'm still writing this aren't I?
We make too much sense together, too many similar
desires of the soul and maybe that's where we don't
belong, why we shouldn't be unified. Because the
truth still stands in ink. In fresh ink. Much more
permanent than the faded half and whole notes in
our hymnals. If I love, I want you to want to choose it
everyday. Not for it to be riddled with. Or misspoken of.

I want the love of you and by you to be real. Even if it means that it won't grace me in this universe.

6:19 am - 6 -34 am

your nightmare became the sheets
that no longer warmed your nights
And soon, the bed in which you slept
became the dream of your days.
But sadly, your eyes remained open
to the reality that insomnia was real.

Animal Nightmares

I used to watch my golden
run in his sleep, growling
and whining in turn
as the path of his dreams
took him from the chase
to the fight.

I never expected to see
the same behavior
in my pet snake
but it writhes in pain
eyes closed
then they pop open.

What scares a snake?
Perhaps a dog chasing.

EDIT: Jessica has informed me snakes don't have eyelids. [I checked it out. She's right. Damn]

4:04 pm - 4-10

The frog then jumped and croaked
As birds then flew across the sky
I watched behind a post
I watched how grasses shook madly
I watched across the yard
I watched the mower eat the grass

A ballerina
swirling around the wind

dreaming.

Sadly I must leave and dare
my duties take me elsewhere;
other people more maligned
claim my time and my mind;
however much I wish to stay
this day has come to go away.

Sorrow,
on the edge of life

watches me.

Open your mind
As if your mind was a never ending book,
And see how
From page to page, and day by day,
Your mind streams ideas
From different perspectives.

It has been really great reading all of your responses to last weeks poetry prompt. It's definitely interesting to see how each individuals poem lengths varied. I've been struggling to write and all I could come up with were a couple of lines at a time. I'll post these when I get home and on my desktop.

For those of you who participated in this exercise, did you find it difficult to write with only five minutes? Were you feeling stuck or were you able to let go completely and let your mind take you where ever it wanted to?

4.38pm
silence.

All throughout the day,
thoughts are jumping in,
jumping out.
I seem to never be free,
fully free of,
my thoughts.

So then why,
when I want to talk,
nothing comes out?
My mind is blank,
but its been racing all day?

Sometimes i cant hear
myself THINK.
yet now,
I sit in silence.

Silence silence.

But I know,
for a fact,
in 30 seconds or less.
My mind will have erupted
just like,
a volcano.

4.43pm...

Did you find it difficult to write with only five minutes?

No.

Were you feeling stuck or were you able to let go completely and let your mind take you where ever it wanted to?

It was spontaneous writing, without much consideration.

I was trying to come up with a poem
but im not home
i blink, i crink and blink again
and then i ask my self, wtf is going on

i cant come up with a good poem
so let me postpone
this writing i dont get
let me forget and move on

July 28 2015
8:17 - 8:23

I found it easy, actually, I just took the first line of thought that went anywhere interesting

Here in the icy cold wind,
A breeze unfathomable to him
He's tucked up warm and cosy:
Belittling his mind with technology and greed
Speed and monstrosity.
I however: sit here in the gale, feeling the stressful touch of iced chills, chilblains and what depression I have energy to remain.

My grandma is as fruity as a cake
leaves disaster in her wake
dresses in a way thats wierd
in the market she is feared

Her temper is like a rage
you really dont want to engage
smokes roll ups containing sage
affordable on her minimum wage

She wobbles on her pink high heels
and goes to the shops to do some deals
takes strange men for stranger meals
just so she can ride in his hot wheels

Not like anyone who's her peer
she never shows any sign of fear
If she changed we'd shed a tear
we love our outrageous Granny dear.

That was actually a bit stressful trying to churn something out in only five minutes and it make some sort of sense. Milly x

This is sweet and fun, Milly. Your grandma rocks.

I actually write most of my poems this way.

sometimes I will re-read and edit but this is rare.

This is the best way to write as it is pure instinct

unless it's a form of course.