"sooooooooo" poems - Hello Poetry

Been off stubbing repeatedly, my toes, on the raggedy twisted sidewalks of a sinking city, not mine, where here, my own metaphor, is being hand delivered, to me, for me, by me too many cayenne creole paroles, none of them getting me any freer none, as of yet, making me a free parolee been off studying some of what I cannot yet do, parole in libertà, a language cosmopolitan of creation, via creative writing remolding all of the dix senses been drawn and french quartered, drilled down, found no unknown solace deep bedrock grown, so doing a redistricting of the map personal, exposing my gardens, my Doric columns, to any passerby with the audacity so sheer to look me in the face direct and say laissez le bon temps rouler! looking to liberate my words, looking for liberty in my words, in a different melting *** where here I am a semi-low semi-free person of color called Old Fashioned White, looking for a seasonal hurricane to move me along, push me to write in a new style, developing cayenne words smothered in jazz à la mode multi-flirting with multi-fluency, searching for Experimental mellifluous words stolenlen from, and built upon a thousand years of languages, river wide delivering its mountain deep cargo of silt, a city of words, upon it built, just like the great Mississippi, changing course every one thousand years my mouth, a river opening wide, catching both salty and fresh, god's love delivering, doing the best I can, writing real fracking poetry for poetry's sake, not text messages of asstags kissing nobody's ads of sad dead #hashtags, following nobody noticeably, but thrusting your good stuff into my orifices, most pleasurably deep but never parrying, I am a poet social only in this: my devotion to my crew stronger every day for and of that particular poetry, I can write better than anyone, so big, sooooooooo easy, and that's, Steve, Bala, y'all, how and what I'm doing and by the way, Putain Zang Tumb Tumb you could look it up

0

May 25, 2014

May 25, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC

nat-lipstadt

Status Update: Been off

Been off stubbing repeatedly, my toes, on the raggedy twisted sidewalks of a sinking city, not mine, where here, my own metaphor, is being hand delivered, to me, for me, by me too many cayenne creole paroles, none of them getting me any freer none, as of yet, making me a free parolee been off studying some of what I cannot yet do, parole in libertà, a language cosmopolitan of creation, via creative writing remolding all of the dix senses been drawn and french quartered, drilled down, found no unknown solace deep bedrock grown, so doing a redistricting of the map personal, exposing my gardens, my Doric columns, to any passerby with the audacity so sheer to look me in the face direct and say laissez le bon temps rouler! looking to liberate my words, looking for liberty in my words, in a different melting *** where here I am a semi-low semi-free person of color called Old Fashioned White, looking for a seasonal hurricane to move me along, push me to write in a new style, developing cayenne words smothered in jazz à la mode multi-flirting with multi-fluency, searching for Experimental mellifluous words stolenlen from, and built upon a thousand years of languages, river wide delivering its mountain deep cargo of silt, a city of words, upon it built, just like the great Mississippi, changing course every one thousand years my mouth, a river opening wide, catching both salty and fresh, god's love delivering, doing the best I can, writing real fracking poetry for poetry's sake, not text messages of asstags kissing nobody's ads of sad dead #hashtags, following nobody noticeably, but thrusting your good stuff into my orifices, most pleasurably deep but never parrying, I am a poet social only in this: my devotion to my crew stronger every day for and of that particular poetry, I can write better than anyone, so big, sooooooooo easy, and that's, Steve, Bala, y'all, how and what I'm doing and by the way, Putain Zang Tumb Tumb you could look it up

71

Haha well okay, so I have this thing for fairy tales, and I love reading them. Sooooooooo cause I'm selfish ;) I want you guys to write a fairy tale. It can be based on something real or fake, but this is open to all interpretations, from old fairy tale cliches and writing styles, to a more modern take on it. Prose is good, but poetry is okay as well ^^ Tag it as #fairytalechallenge. Feel free to message me with questions, and to have fun with it, there are no boundaries! Good luck and have fun! :D

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Jan 18, 2015

Jan 18, 2015 at 7:48 PM UTC

who-wouldve-thought

Fairy Tale Challenge!

Haha well okay, so I have this thing for fairy tales, and I love reading them. Sooooooooo cause I'm selfish ;) I want you guys to write a fairy tale. It can be based on something real or fake, but this is open to all interpretations, from old fairy tale cliches and writing styles, to a more modern take on it. Prose is good, but poetry is okay as well ^^ Tag it as #fairytalechallenge. Feel free to message me with questions, and to have fun with it, there are no boundaries! Good luck and have fun! :D

2

lellow she does not understand why the silly poppy, source of way too many, so annoying funny smelling scratchy kisses, asks her over and over what is this color of this 'n that, stopping over and over sooooooooo many times on just one, lellow and why the foolish man laughs and weeps whenever she says lellow with deep reflection, as is her way, you can see the cogs whirring, she guessing it must be his favorite but when then he starts giving even more funny smelling scratchy kisses after each lellow she decides irrevocably, as is her way, the next time he asks she will make a joke to make him stop and tell him smellow.

0

Jun 18, 2017

Jun 18, 2017 at 8:26 AM UTC

nat-lipstadt

lellow

lellow she does not understand why the silly poppy, source of way too many, so annoying funny smelling scratchy kisses, asks her over and over what is this color of this 'n that, stopping over and over sooooooooo many times on just one, lellow and why the foolish man laughs and weeps whenever she says lellow with deep reflection, as is her way, you can see the cogs whirring, she guessing it must be his favorite but when then he starts giving even more funny smelling scratchy kisses after each lellow she decides irrevocably, as is her way, the next time he asks she will make a joke to make him stop and tell him smellow.

19