Ok, this made me think of the song "Drops of Jupiter" by Train, so it's inspired by it. (Kind of.)
source here
Drops of Saturn
Glittering crystals
cold to the touch
reflective
Like millions of tiny
rainbows.
They fell from the rings
of Saturn,
deep into the solar system
in the great
beyond of space.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
What's it Like
Okay, so, I might miss some prompts, but, oh well. So for this prompt, I think I'll write about what's it like: a day at the beach.
source here
Happiness
Warm sunny beaches
emerald waters, breaking
waves along the coast.
Laughter, smiles
crust cut off peanut butter
sandwiches,
a day in the sand
and the surf.
Plastic shovel and
bucket,
just right sand,
king of the sandcastle.
Jumping waves,
see the distance,
toy sailboat bobbing
at the water's edge.
Nighttime comes round,
beach deserted,
little sailboat bobbing,
sandcastle proudly standing,
discarded crusts buried
in sand.
source here
Happiness
Warm sunny beaches
emerald waters, breaking
waves along the coast.
Laughter, smiles
crust cut off peanut butter
sandwiches,
a day in the sand
and the surf.
Plastic shovel and
bucket,
just right sand,
king of the sandcastle.
Jumping waves,
see the distance,
toy sailboat bobbing
at the water's edge.
Nighttime comes round,
beach deserted,
little sailboat bobbing,
sandcastle proudly standing,
discarded crusts buried
in sand.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Tactile
A short vocabulary lesson: tactile-adj. pertaining to touch. Now that you know the definition, you can enjoy the poem. :)
A Blind Man's Sight
Shrouded in darkness,
no color,
no light.
How then,
does a blind man see?
Every feathery touch,
every breeze,
the feel of silk,
soft, warm skin,
smooth leather
rough canvas.
The tactile imagination
of a blind man's
sight.
A Blind Man's Sight
Shrouded in darkness,
no color,
no light.
How then,
does a blind man see?
Every feathery touch,
every breeze,
the feel of silk,
soft, warm skin,
smooth leather
rough canvas.
The tactile imagination
of a blind man's
sight.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Words
A description of the poem following this description is read as follows: It is about words. The end. Read it, please. So please take the time to read the poem and comment. :3 Oh, also, for these special little poems which are prompts, believe it or not, I have a picture for you to look at.
Words are Golden
They say,
silence is golden,
the phrase commonly
depicted on shiny laminated
posters hung in libraries,
where indeed,
silence is often better.
But,
I ask you,
have you ever stayed silent
against your wishes,
had no freedom to speak
as you wish
to write
as you wish
all in the name of silence?
Words are what binds us
to the expression
of everyday life.
We laugh, cry
and live.
We study the
philosophy of tomorrow
and today,
the words on the page
often difficult to understand
but if we persevere,
we can do it.
How can we express ourselves
without words?
How can we learn the great of tomorrow
and today?
So I declare,
that everyday
is a day
where words
are truly
golden.
Wow. That was lengthy. I hope you enjoy it though! Really.
-Chichi xoxo
Words are Golden
They say,
silence is golden,
the phrase commonly
depicted on shiny laminated
posters hung in libraries,
where indeed,
silence is often better.
But,
I ask you,
have you ever stayed silent
against your wishes,
had no freedom to speak
as you wish
to write
as you wish
all in the name of silence?
Words are what binds us
to the expression
of everyday life.
We laugh, cry
and live.
We study the
philosophy of tomorrow
and today,
the words on the page
often difficult to understand
but if we persevere,
we can do it.
How can we express ourselves
without words?
How can we learn the great of tomorrow
and today?
So I declare,
that everyday
is a day
where words
are truly
golden.
Wow. That was lengthy. I hope you enjoy it though! Really.
-Chichi xoxo
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
An Introduction to Poetry
Ahem. This is the point where I get all mystical and poetic. Well, that isn't true. Anyways, in one of my weird moments, my brain coughed up this little introduction. It's really sad, actually. I think I'll probably scare most of you off. Stick around, though. :3
An Brief Introduction to the Magical World of Poetry
(...meant to be a joke.)
The rich broad mountains are stained a dark indigo. Somewhere in the distance they rise to touch the darkening sky. If time does not move then maybe the lurking stillness in night will be eternal...just as words are...
Every breath is dancing on the tips of oblivion, waiting for the word to be spoken so it can flee, flee from the prison of speak to spoken. And perhaps somewhere in the purple mountains they gather, ringing among the tops of the quiet night. There are blackbirds that rest on the mountaintops, carrying traces of words back with them as they fly off as the sun rises...and so on every tip of their wings is a hope, a longing...that maybe we are just a tiny speck on the cloth weaved from a thousand different beliefs and different wishes.
Just a single word can stir the emotions, as long if you choose it right. Happiness, mourning, contentment...there are no restraints. Poetry is nothing but words woven together masterfully. That is the true beauty of it.
And there you have it. Probably, eh, definitely the worst writing on the face of Earth. (<--pointed sarcasm. hehe.) I actually like it, even though it makes no sense. Like it too, please!
Thank you for taking the time to read it~<3
-Chichi xoxo
An Brief Introduction to the Magical World of Poetry
(...meant to be a joke.)
The rich broad mountains are stained a dark indigo. Somewhere in the distance they rise to touch the darkening sky. If time does not move then maybe the lurking stillness in night will be eternal...just as words are...
Every breath is dancing on the tips of oblivion, waiting for the word to be spoken so it can flee, flee from the prison of speak to spoken. And perhaps somewhere in the purple mountains they gather, ringing among the tops of the quiet night. There are blackbirds that rest on the mountaintops, carrying traces of words back with them as they fly off as the sun rises...and so on every tip of their wings is a hope, a longing...that maybe we are just a tiny speck on the cloth weaved from a thousand different beliefs and different wishes.
Just a single word can stir the emotions, as long if you choose it right. Happiness, mourning, contentment...there are no restraints. Poetry is nothing but words woven together masterfully. That is the true beauty of it.
And there you have it. Probably, eh, definitely the worst writing on the face of Earth. (<--pointed sarcasm. hehe.) I actually like it, even though it makes no sense. Like it too, please!
Thank you for taking the time to read it~<3
-Chichi xoxo
Hello, hello, China here!
Hi! I guess I should say something about myself. My name is China Li. China is pronounced Chee-na by the way. And yes, it is pretty awesome. :D
So, this is a "poem" blog. I'll post my poems and other writings on here, and, they'll probably be pretty weird.
Thank you, and hi!
-Chichi xoxo
So, this is a "poem" blog. I'll post my poems and other writings on here, and, they'll probably be pretty weird.
Thank you, and hi!
-Chichi xoxo
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