This is a bit of a forum game, but at the same time it has the capacity to result in a bit of poetry, so it goes here. I'm going to supply a line of poetry, and the following poster is to create a poem using the line I gave as their first. Along with their poem, they supply a line for the next person to write poetry on. No restrictions on the type of line or poetry; just keep the line open ended.
Everything I see is invisible, At best, pale outlines and silhouettes, At worst, I feel nonexistent, Unsurprisingly, dementia has taken grasp For as often as I hear their voices, And even when I make out a faded shape, Actively moving, I can't touch them - fate wouldn't allow it Wouldn't dare let me be assured that this blank limbo-esque nightmare is real, It doesn't even permit me to take a glance at myself,
Last night, I found myself lying in a dumpster, Overjoyed that it was filled with half rotten food which would make a good dinner, But ticked off that it didn't have my favorite brand of lasagna, and instead had some STUPID CHEAP NO NAME BRAND WHICH DIDN'T COME WITH NONE OF THE GOOD FLAVOR AND DIDN'T SMELL OF TEARS SIRED BY CHILDREN'S SLAVE LABOR! RAGGHHHH BEING HOMELESS SUCKS!
Forgotten I laid, underneath the bed, What has happened to me? A question I ask too often, Keeps me from being free. There it comes again, mad. What has happened that makes it so? What action have I committed, That has put me in a place so wrong?
I do not understand it. It claims many things. Lies. The lot. I cover my ears.
"Who are you now?" it asks, As if it did not know. "How have you changed, why cannot you be like long ago?
I do not answer so stupid words. It is now reaching for the door. Bah! Like if I care. Let her go out and be alone.
"I have lost you" now I hear, "And now I go out of this door, and I will find you, and I will bring you back home!"
Hmm, I'm dumb. I forgot my line. Said Nilly, forgetting the line that he was going to say So Storm went on a quest for the sacred ketchup bottle and hit Nilly in the head with it to restart his brain However, Nilly fell down and was dead, so Storm said "I think I dented his brain!" --- I wrote a beautiful poem today
I wrote a beautiful poem today, Though it's certainly not this one. This one's too nasty for my tastes, Yet I continue to pound key after key, My keyboard raw after overuse. I am sorry for having given this machine so much abuse. Oh, am I rhyming now? Sorry, I hadn't noticed. Oh well, it's time for your cue.
This is a live without purpose, devoid of meaning. I love it.
