Occasionally I come up with a line for a poem that I think it's fierce but nothing comes after it. What I've been doing is sharing the line with other poets either in person, on twitter, and this time on facebook. I asked some brothers in a poetry group on facebook to add a line to create a thread poem. What you read here is the result. The first line is mine and each succeeding line is by a different contributor. I read this piece at an Open Mic called, "Culture Fuck" and it went over really well. I've titled the piece, "He...."
He felt like well worn jeans with frayed edges at the hem
His beautiful hands like warm words from a friend
His needs was tucked in his pocket when morning's thoughts floated by, about nine, maybe ten
Looked like guys in cobalt trunks muscling
Intertwined in each other's arms like David and his sling
He walked softly on the balls of his feet, making the earth sing
The vapor of his breath wafted like a cloud on the crisp cold air...
The faint scent of pomegranate lingered in his hair
And he smelt of rain, and of leaves, and of sweat, and of snow
Contributors:
Roger Williams
David Patton
Nigel Barto
Wallace Bass Boyd
Brandon Wallace
Ronnie Davis
Charles Gervin
Jair, The Literary Masturbator
No comments:
Post a Comment