I've been experimenting with Poetry Soup's "Shape Poem Generator." This is my first attempt
Someone
left a blue teacup on the porch rail— silver around
the rim, a little chipped on one side like it’s lived
a life. The night leans over it, not gracefully, more
like a tired guest trying to pour stars without
spilling too many. A few miss the cup entirely,
skittering across the wood like bright
crumbs. The moon watches, not
offering advice, just hanging there with
its usual half-smile. By the time the cup
is full, the sky looks lighter— as if
giving away a handful of its
brightness wasn’t such a big deal. You
could lift the cup, if you wanted, and sip
whatever the night tastes like today.
Probably something quiet. Probably
something true.
Time divides the line,
We define the ride,
Coinciding with the Divine,
Colliding atoms combine,
Creating the outline,
The vibrations shine,
Aligned perfectly,
Reflecting colors in a design,
Collecting together intertwined,
Winding through space,
Finding a dense place,
Playing chase with particles,
Articulating a form,
The normal procedure,
Reality's best feature,
As we build our creature,
The teacher of this experience,
Experimenting with existence,
Measuring distance in increments,
Continuing to make imprints,
Each instant forever embossed,
No moment is ever lost,
Reach across your limits,
Admit you created it,
Sit within an open mind,
You'll find time open wide,
Dividing the line,
Between now and the Divine.
Here, curiosity placed far a lone box
That contains a canal but scared mixture
Not to be seen; How awful can it fox?
She would have never mind the box structure
But while she wonders so continuously
She anxiously betrayed her prone caution
Making out need to know ambotiously
Where nothing ever remains same option
Like scientists go every year to space
In discovery to channel their new aim
Experimenting hiw to reproduce
Then dreadful CORONA VIRUS did claim
Its hunt without a ceasing curse tension
Claiming lives; breaths trail down to detention
Let words be like footprints of understanding
Let every sentence narrate
Guide inspiration through create
Confident to pursue
Mind over matter and soul at will
Take charge and control
Right place and timing
Theory behind
All genuine
Moment to fulfill
Call to write
Interaction response
Learn by experimenting in participating
Listening being encouraging
Master your ability
A meant to be
For the world to see
Treasure Chest Motivation
The best to come
Think 2026 as you work it out
Be the best, but don’t settle for less
Only you can contest
Be the writer and Poet in confess
Let assurance be the test.
They claim to have brought us out of Egypt
But never have I tasted the fruits of thy promised land
Was it really necessary for a democratic plan?
Or they just still experimenting on me?
Freedom cry has not fulfilled my expectations
But at least it's a weapon they fear in the streets
I wonder men who brought us independence,
Forever remain our only celebrated heroes.
So sad they even own jewelry stores,
Knowing that I'm their only mine
Who am I....
surviving_pawn
What was that?
No Darlin', I'm listening!
Yes, you have my complete attention!
You want me to do what?
Right now?
Before dinner?
Wow...that sounds hot!
I know, we never tried that before.
No, I'm not afraid of spicing things up!
No, I'm not afraid of experimenting,
It's just that...I don't know if I can take the heat!
Of course I love you!
I love you more each day!
Okay then, if you want it hot, then hot it shall be!
Your every wish is my command!
So...habeneros instead of jalapenos in the chili then, huh?
Ooh Baby, that does sound hot!...But...we might pay the price tomorrow!
Tots waddle to the throttle of life...®a©e®s...start your engines!
Human nature takes wobbly steps forward >>>
Each clumsy effort supported to maintain balance$
Space and times collide *×*
Perpetual motion prevails...®a©e®s...engines revved!
Adulthood rapidly approaches!...Lord help us survive till they move out!
Chance encounters...on and off the computer °}©{°
Experimenting with forbidden fruits @ hormones.com/applejacks
Concerned parents patrol computer...once they figure out the password ?+?=?
Alcohol and weed are soon dating...huh?...what did you say?...uuh...huh?
Driving home with the ***** in their eyes!
Except...they're still in park!!!
Too much ghanja dulled their drive ° ° °
Space station number: 5
A new sun has arisen in the dawning literary sky,
the poetry horizon is illumined by the flash of Ai.
Novel ideas and stylistic stimulation the poets get
from metaphoric spectrum of the sun that doesn’t set.
Experimenting with different poetic forms Ai is free
to motivate new perceptions for innovative poetry.
Choosing Ai as creative collaborator poets may flock
when they need help to overcome the writer’s block.
The delicate domain of human emotions in Ai is hollow,
making its structured poems seem artificial and shallow.
Devoid of life skills it lacks human feelings in the core.
So, the artistic depth of passion its essence can’t explore.
Ai poems may replicate the existing ones with dexterity,
inviting queries about plagiarism and originality.
The poems of heart run the risk of being undermined
by Ai, overshadowing the lively reflection of the human mind.
I am drawing cartoon trees
challenging myself
experimenting with new designs
some have hearts, one is full of rainbows
Several have faces, mostly women’s
because they are easier for me than a man’s
one outrageous cartoon tree is doing the splits
I need a grandma tree, I think
Picking up my pencil
Begin with a groove, some delicious, soulful melodies interwoven with genres including jazz, neo-soul, lo-fi hip-hop, jazz sub-genres/
with spoken word tricks in the mix with programmed drums, turntables, looping in Sonny Rollins, Elvin Jones, Hubert Laws, Lonnie Liston Smith/
add some house music word with a vibrant, rhythmic pulse packin' the dance floor/ so hey, whatcha say to the DJ as he's laying down beats, experimenting with melodic hooks and some nasty background heat/
double scratching Rick James Super Freak and pumpin' up the supa dupa bassline from Mary Jane Girls All Night Long to the party hardy dance house crowd/
ethereal pops of sound synergy drops/ man, hit me with a lo-fi boost so I can spit out my word anthem I'm sparking off now the heat be flowin' down to my dancin' feet/
I dig the Crooklyn crew is bringing back Break Dancin' with their signature freestyle/
they even brought their cardboard dance floor/ they be makin' moves and cuttin' grooves/ I hate to go but I'm outta here/
gotta jam into the poetry slam
In sorrow, I turned to writing verse,
To ease the pain, my heart immerse.
Love, nature, family, and spirituality,
Themes that flowed, with sincerity.
Years passed, inspiration took flight,
A hundred poems, crafted with might.
Retirement brought idle hours to fill,
Isolation and pandemic, a bitter pill.
Poetry contests sparked excitement anew,
Learning the craft, experimenting too.
Words from poets, wisdom acquired,
Rhyme and meter, rules admired.
Recognition came, acclaim I found,
Free verse soaring, high and profound.
Loneliness became my muse, guiding my pen,
Love still sings, even when.
Writing became my daily pursuit,
Through challenges and hardships, I resolute.
With passion and dedication, I engineer,
Poems that touch hearts, far and near.
Antimony Foolishness
Age 51 is often when one’s unable,
To buy the status quo, it’s old and needs mending.
New sports car, how youthful! Refuting the label,
Of premature old age, gray hair pending.
Girl friends need to be added to the stable,
Young women, their company lending,
Immortal aura when sharing their bar table.
What invokes “against aloneness”, or “befriending”?
You’ll find a word “antimonos” in Greek fable.
The element Antimony, #51, is alloy tending,
By emulating its properties, “Romeo” is enabled.
By experimenting with the valence one’s sending,
Reactions occur, some of which may be stable,
But it’s hard to tell if another is bonding or pretending,
Especially, to induce attraction, one increases spending.
Remember to study and use the Periodic Table,
It prolongs youth, the illusion of vitality never ending.
© Chaim Wilson
I love the challenge of poetry forms
Giving my brain an excellent verbal workout,
Experimenting with writing beyond the norms
Lest I become stale or suffer burnout.
Giving my brain an excellent verbal workout
A critical, indispensable exercise
Lest I become stale or suffer burnout,
Results are challenging to my surprise.
A critical, indispensable exercise
This playing around with rhyming words
Results are challenging and to my surprise,
Some of my poetry is for the birds!
This playing around with rhyming words
A lifetime of pleasure it has brought
Some of my poetry is for the birds,
But, to abandon it, I surely cannot.
A lifetime of pleasure it has brought
Experimenting with writing beyond the norms
But to abandon it, I surely cannot
I love the challenge of poetry forms.
Written September 7, 2022
Actually, I do not know why I write a poem
I started at a very early age and continued,
When I was very young, I loved to show-em
In adolescence I wrote when in a grim mood.
Discovering love, poems became rather natural
My output of sonnets was somewhat prolific,
As time passed, writing became an essential
Some of my poems were bad, others terrific.
During the middle years, I wrote less poetry
Experimenting with short stories and novel
I quickly returned to writing them vigorously
In retirement, in my little 1950’s brick hovel.
I write because I cannot not write, you see,
From an early age I learned to express myself
Then came the time when many were in print;
Best of all, I saw my chapbooks on the shelf.
Writing poems is a way to express who I am
Capsuled portraits of the way my mind works
Someday I’m certain no one will give a damn
But, writing poems is one of my finest quirks!
Written August 27, 2022
Submitted to “I Write Because” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Shimmering shadows across the meadow trail
Dancing in the afternoon sun, glancing fondly
Toward the woodland coolness so invitingly,
Beckoning me to stroll beneath the canopy
Of overhanging branches hovering protectively
Like mothering arms holding the distraught.
A place to find one’s peace midst the enfolding
Vicissitudes of complex living, such as it is,
In these difficult, compelling times we share
Unable to discern principled directions clearly
While seeking what we feel we have earned,
Our fondest endeavors often reputedly lacking.
Shimmering shadows, ephemeral, as real as light,
Which we cannot take into outstretched hands
The branches swaying in a filtered breeze
Whispering consoling sighs, while suggesting
New imaginings, new lyrics set to new tunes
Bring fresh ways of thinking to mother’s child.
Written June 5, 2022
[Experimenting with
stream of consciousness
poetry]
submitted to "2022 Poetry Marathon Mile Eight"
sponsored by Mark Toney
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.