Poetry Challenge

Question

This is a site for creative writing, and most of what is posted is short stories and prose, though it seems all challenges are open for poetry. I'd like to see what sort of interest there is in poetry-specific challenges. So, we'll start with this one...

It was a very simple exercise in my poetry class in high school, when we were learning about symbolism...

Write a poem about shoes that symbolizes death.

There's no word limit, make it as long or short as you'd like. It can have rhyme and rhythm or be free form.

The only requirement is that the poem be about shoes, and that it symbolizes death without actually saying it.

Answer 1

SHOES

I woke up, or thought I did.

I'm no longer a kid

who thinks the world is his

when it's really hit or miss.

You gave me so much joy

when I was just a boy.

Our love has lasted longly

though our sweet love was wrongly.

Now I have to leave you

with memories that bereave you.

Where's my shoes?  I have to go now

to somewhere.  I don't know how

to get it across to the other side

that I just don't do sane people.  Put me in my chair.  Set me down.  Set me down and make my smile a frown.  Where's my shoes?  Get me out of here.

Comments

this is very lyrical...it weaves well into the culmination...I can hear someone in a coffee shop playing bongos and reading this. It has that sort of feel.

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Spot on, Midnight.  There's a lot of really good Spoken Word going on.  Bongos and all.  I'd need about 50 more verses on this one.  lol

Answer 2

Haiku

His two black shoes
Stand empty in the hall.
They're waiting.

Comments

YES! This is perfect! So simple, and it says so much...wonderful. I love haiku. Can't write it to save my life.

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Thanks. I love haiku. It gets right to the point, although it's quite hard to write. I always want to make it shorter than it has to be.

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I think haiku's great
though I have no skill for it
it's a real challenge

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So few words paint such a sad picture.

Answer 3

I"ve warned you all I suck at poetry, but hey I do try!  Darn it midnight for giving me a toughy.  Get me back to morbidity!

One shoe lost from its sock and leg

Found beneath the piper’s keg

The foot that wore this purple shoe

Was none other than Jack Larue.

The piper’s keg was lost to sight

After three men lit a pipe

They never found the keg again

But the shoe remained its little friend

What came of shoe and keg we don’t know

Or the leg and sock for its little show

Pieces of him were everywhere

The sock, keg, leg, and shoe didn’t care.

Comments

Almost sounds like a damn nursery rhyme. lol.

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It does sound a bit like a nursery rhyme. A slightly morbid nursery rhyme...

You did well on the rhythm, the rhymes don't feel too forced. All in all, the best poem I've read by you.

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Hey, I think I get bonus points for a "morbid nursery rhyme". lol.  Thank you for the positive feedback.  I"m still the king of the morbid! (he jumps for joy)

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I like it!

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I like it and also this forum.  Some of us tend to get too wordy at times.  Cutting it down to poetry with a theme cuts the fat out of it.

I tried a site called Writer's Forum.  They claim to have 2300 contributors and there is no interreaction between any of the writers.  What's the use of that?  ThinkWrite has good potential.  I feel comfortable writing something I know isn't that good and still getting feedback from people whose style I've known.

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I liked it, and yes a bit nursery rhyme-ish, but something I can read about times and still enjoy.

Hopefully when this site does get bigger, we'll all be able to keep track of each other. Maybe a "friends" option where you get alerted if your friends respond to something?

Answer 4

Letting Go

The shoes had always been there,
sitting neatly, carefully placed
on the rug next to the door,
in the exact same place every time
you took them off.

Now that rug is empty.
I’ve put the shoes away
in a box to be sent to a shelter
for someone who needs them more than you.

Now when I come in,
I look for those shoes
to tell me that you are home,
and all I see is a worn, faded spot
in the middle of an empty rug
that I haven’t had the heart to give away.

Comments

this is the one I wrote for the assignment in my poetry class in high school.

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I find that very touching and sad.  Good one midnight.

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It's hard to mix anything with death without being sad, but I'm gonna try.

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midnight - that's nice. And I hate poetry. So there!

Answer 5

GET IT YET?

A shoe was thrown across the room
at a man with a mental vacuum.
They remembered the sound of "boom"
and the resulting doom.

Many were ravished
and all were famished
The conqueror was banished,
but he wouldn't vanish.

So one simple shoe
would give him his due
for ignoring what's true
to them, me, and you.

It seems so sad
that Fallujah and Baghdad
made men act so bad
and turned all men mad.

That one shoe told
the story of old.
People so bold
can be that cold.

Comments

nope, this has nothing to do with anyone's writing skills, but it's an enjoyable dialog...it's a sharing of opinions. I'm sorry if I've ranted too much on it. My problem was only with the idea of aggression being innate. I don't get into the political side of it.

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I was a Bush supporter back in those days,  but I think I did say that his reasoning for war was wrong.  Saddam was not the one who bombed our country, but he was blamed for it and hunted down until he was executed (hanging).   Midnight:  I could go into the whole environmental vs. genetic and trust me I do know a whole bunch about it.  Let's say I do agree with you, but I also stand by what I said because it is also true.   I also think, lol, that this may be the most wonderful evolution of ThinkWrite.  We used to discuss stories and some did elicit a lot of comments, but I don't think to the degree that this "new" website has brought about.  I applaud you, giraffe and everyone else for making the "writing" come alive as it should be.

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Thanks, Doug.  I am no more right than you.  People used to just grunt and point before we learned speech.  We still do that, but more often we talk.  We used to just bang on drum logs and now we play violins, but we still bang on drums.  Rough contact sports are more popular than gymnastics or tennis.  Football's more popular than the symphony.

Is the glass half empty or half full?  I like to think we're winning the contest against primal, destructive urges.

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Midnight,  I'll give it this much - Violent agression is innate.  Some people can't control it like rapists or fag bashers.  They see red all the time.  Others like Gandhi and Mother Theresa, Albert Schweitzer etc. have evolved out of most of it.  Male domination over females is also innate.  Most guys have learned to control it.  So "self control" is also innate.  It's survival like "If I beat up my wife, her brothers will beat me to a pulp." or "I'll be put in prison to hang around my fellow abusers."

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Doug, first, I agree this is a wonderful evolution of ThinkWrite. I must say, I love a good debate.

Second, I would love to hear your thoughts on environment vs. genetics. The nature vs. nurture argument is one of the oldest in the book. You say you "know a whole bunch about it", but that sort of knowledge isn't concrete. The argument has never had a solid, conclusive answer, scientifically or philosophically. I can understand where you're coming from, but I don't necessarily agree. Or maybe I'm just playing devil's advocate...

Giraffe, you make these statements very matter-of-factly, but there is nothing to back it up. I can understand your opinion, but I don't see anything backing it for you to claim it as fact.

Hugs for you both, by the way. I have no problems with your opinions, I just don't share them. I'm enjoying this dialog.

Answer 6

Pink ballerina slippers perched in the corner
Dusty and worn from years of neglect.

A darkened room highlighted only by the sneakers
Scattered everywhere all soiled and unworn.

Boots once part of a workman’s daily routine
Now tossed as collateral in the hallway closet.

These are the lonely ones
The apparel of lost souls.

Comments

All I can say is I try, I really do.  The Monster Man does not do poetry, especially about "shoes". lol.

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you did it doug. this fits the challenge perfectly. it has a good flow. I love "the apparel of lost souls". Very nicely done. Seems the Monster Man has a heart.

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Just don't tell anyone whipgirl.

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I like it as well

Answer 7

Bright Red Heels

It seemed silly,
The dreams and ideals,
That came with the purchase
Of bright red heels.

Cocktail dresses
With lace and silk frills
And expensive dinners
In bright red heels.

Moonlit walks
And intimate ordeals.
Midnight embraces
In bright red heels.

Unanswered phone calls,
Recorded appeals,
Tissues and tear drops
On bright red heels.

A silent apartment
Where everything is still.
Except for the dangling
Of bright red heels.

Comments

I don't know if this is what you were going for, midnight.  This kind of just fell out of my brain just now.

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I like the lightness of it, Gemini.  The insinuation of death is in the last 2 verses - whether it's a relationship or a lover is uncertain - or maybe neither.

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The challenge is totally open for interpretation, and I like where you went with it. This is beautiful, and sad. I agree with Giraffe's comment.

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"Moonlit walks
And intimate ordeals.
Midnight embraces
In bright red heels."

Wonderful!

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Very nice!

Answer 8

"Sibling Rivalry"

He was the golden child,
I couldn't do anything right.
His shoes were shiny and black,
mine were brown, but used to be white.

We went out to dinner,
and he wore his brand new clothes.
His black shoes were polished,
mine were losing their soles.

When I saw him laying there
in that polished box,
I knew the best I could hope for
would be to lay in some rocks.

I took his black shoes,
though they were too big for me,
and used the shoelaces
to hang myself in a tree.

Comments

WOW!  Where did that come from?  I love it, I don't know why yet, but I love it!

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this came while laying in bed trying to go to sleep the other night. My mind is a non-stop roller-coaster. especially when I'm trying to sleep. one thought leads to another leads to another, and that's where this came from...random thoughts dancing in my head.

I had the whole poem written, and I thought, I need to write this down or type it up or I'll lose it. But before I could get out of bed to grab my notebook and a pen, I was asleep. It wasn't until later the next day I remembered it, and I think, got it exactly how it was in my head.

Thanks, I'm glad you like it.

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I like the idea and the poem is excellent, I'm just obsessive about rhythm, so it's not a perfect 10 for me. I hope 9 will do. Keep writing.

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thank you. a 9 is wonderful :-)

Answer 9

Muddy footprints
Sandy floors
Spread on clouds above
Boots, a shirt and a glove

Resting gently on the moors
A shoelace
Tattered by time
Knocking gently on the doors

To gods gated kingdom
A leather sole
A restless soul
This way they shall come

Marching past the guards
A crown jewel
Stitched to an open eyelet
Lay down gently in sleepy yards

Bound by hooded sins
Past
Present
The shoe spins

Will it be heaven
Hell
Caught in between
Only he knows his brethren

Comments

midnight...you are killing me with this poetry stuff.  It has invaded my brain and won't let go.  Have I told you i "suck at this" stuff.  Monster man with random thoughts thrashed out in sometimes suffocating manner does not do poetry!!!! :)

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good idea. bad execution. this is really, really not good. not only is the rhythm off, but the rhyme pattern is inconsistent. I'm glad you're trying to rise to the challenge of writing poetry, but I do not like this at all.

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Thanks for being brutally honest.  I'm out!  Well.....:)

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Um... this is going to sound funny, considering my comment about Poet's poem, but I actually thought it sounded okay. Sure, it lacks rhythm; sure, that bothered me. But in the end, it was readable and understandable. I completely ignored the rhyme. Didn't even realize there was one until Poet pointed it out. And since there was no rhythm, it didn't throw me off. I just read it like a very scattered thought flow and in that context, it worked. For the record, I still like Poet's Sibling Rivalry much better. Maybe it's more my type...

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perhaps I was a tad too harsh...but, yeah, I don't find this readable at all. The fact that there IS rhyme, but no discernible pattern or rhythm really threw me off. Maybe if you eliminated the rhyme all together and made it totally free verse I'd like it better...I am a fan of free verse, because there's no need for rhythm there.

Answer 10

Okay okay... I've gotta harken back to the early days of ThinkWrite. I'm pretty sure I mentioned the all-time classic flash fiction example by Hemingway:

For sale: Baby shoes. Never worn.

Comments

Six words - an entire piece of fiction in just six words. Holy f-in sh!t. This is the best. Ever!

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Thanks for sharing that.  I don't remember it from the past.  It is absolutely the best!

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Hear, hear.

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If you change a word or two in this, you change the whole story and feeling.  
 
 For rent: obscene shoes.  Never worn.    

That could make a good challenge.

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One time we got a homework assignment to take a story/poem and change one letter in each word, or at least most of the words, giving it a whole new meaning, which would inevitably be funny. I'm not sure if you can actually do that in English, but it might be worth a try.
Hmm... let's see: Fur bale: Gaby shows. Newer worm.
Oh, looks like it works! Cool! And wow, I've now managed to completely destroy a work of art. My apologies.