Saturday, 26 January 2008

Daily Spark Word: Confession

Today's word is 'confession'. Add your poem to the comments section of this post. It doesn't need to be brilliant or polished - it's all about giving it a go!

confession

thoughts trickle from my mind
and words tickle my tongue
but when the sentence is ready
and my lips part
you are not
near

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

giving a try with the go - by a roughncoarsepoettobe

I saw the snow last nite
but when I woke up in the morning
It was sunshine
But it was cold last nite
I really thought I was covered by the snow
That made my heart warm this morning.
Ahh, indeed, there was a snow…

Miss Ticket Stubs said...

Thanks, Peter! I love the jarring rhythm and the way the idea behind the snow image is ambiguous.

Do come back and contribute again!

Nadia Giordana said...

You call yourself an unskilled poet, but your words betray you. I've enjoyed reading your work, nice blog.

Miss Ticket Stubs said...

Hi Nadia,

Thank you very much for your comments. Some days I feel more skilled than others :) I guess the idea is not just for me, but for everyone to have a go, regardless of training/criticism. Would love you to contribute if you feel so compelled!

Dorothi said...

i have posted a poem "CONFESSION" in my blog. i sending you its link. hope you like it.
http://nainikanagpal.blogspot.com

Miss Ticket Stubs said...

Dreammer - Thanks for joining in! I read your poem on your blog and thought it was really intriguing - do come back and contribute again!

Kat - I will definitely check out your blog and see what this challenge is (I'm sure you've guessed that I do like challenges!). I love your poem as well - very mysterious but raw. Thanks for being such a great supporter of my blog!

Dorothi said...

Your challenge was really very interesting........i discovered that i can compose poem even when i am not prompted by my feelings......

Thanx for visiting my blog I am glad that you liked it.....

Tamara said...

Confession

Your words, to me, are like the
White
Smooth
Pebbles
I sought out
On the beach, as a child.
They are common to others,
Treasure to me.

I store each one
In my mind's glass jar,
And, like a pirate shining gold,
I polish those pebbles,
Turning them
Over
And
Over.

But when I took them out today,
Wanting to present my confession,
Your cold, stone eyes made me see
Anew.
Nothing
But a handful of small,
Hard
Rock.

Miss Ticket Stubs said...

Hi Tamara,

I really, really like this poem! It is so gentle and melancholy, and has a lovely feel to it. Thank you so much for joining in - I hope you'll come back and contribute again!

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