I'm way too late to play here, but this is Stan's cold write and my lifeless poem.
This shows the poems in just one one workshop. To see all the poems on Neopoet, go to the stream. Or go to the ">workshop page itself, where you can find out more about the syllabus.
LONG LOST FRIEND PROSE TO POEM FINAL EDIT(i think)
Return to me, oh silent one,
dear friend of yester-year
Proclaim in me
of what you see
and all we've learned to fear
Originally legitimated reasons
of concern
quickly turn into more profound statements
of deterioration learned
Mental stability needs constant repair
causes of disappearing
and fearing
now finally shared
LONG LOST FRIEND PROSE TO POEM WORKSHOP ENTRY
Twenty years have passed
since my best friend and i had spoken last
Originally legitimate reasons of concern quickly turn
into more profound statements of deterioration learned
Living in worry , based on mental stability ,
are leading causes of disappearances in most major cases
Anorexic indignations self- induced by lack of conformity
in societies reality leads to the harsh realism of the seriousness
in this situation
My Moon (Jess’s poem from Barbara’s prose)
My Moon (Jess’s poem from Barbara’s prose)
Moon shining on couples in love,
waves that wash away aeons
counter of celestial events
cataclysmic and pastoral
Omnipresent moon,
both distant in meaningless ways
and as close as a touch
speaks to us everywhere
man, or beast.
Where creations brilliance in a dark starry night?
Lovers and thieves, complicit in moonlight
"REAL MAN'S DOG" (prose to poetry shop)
Here's Wesley's prose entry. Dick knew where it was going the moment the Akita and his young handler arrived at class. He was confident the dog weighed 120 pounds while the boy, all of 12 years old, wouldn't tip the scale at 90. The mother and son had wanted a Labrador, daddy wanted a "man's" dog.
What they got was trouble.
Prose "The Burglar" by Nordic Cloud revised to Poetry (Prose to Poetry Workshop)
Final Revision
Prose "The Burglar" by Nordic Cloud revised to Poetry (Prose to Poetry)
A man in old grey dehevelled clothing
Black hair, ruddy face stood by a fence
Walking deliberatly slow along the streets
Perusing a site to commit burglary
He kept rhythm with the fence pailing
A girl peering through net curtains
made a crack in the lace had begun
To observe him as he eyed the houses
Dropped the curtain she stepped back
from the window as she noticed him
Looking in her direction
DESERT BLUSH - Poetry/Prose WORKSHOP
JUDYANNE'S PROSE:-
Spring is fragile, easily banished by the south wind. Despite the presage of warmer and sunnier days to come with the welcome northerly breeze of yesterday, a cold, wintry wind blew. Today, when the sun rose from the desert in the east and slowly brightened it, the morning sky would be covered from horizon to horizon with a blanket of multi-coloured fluffy cloud that looks just like wool on a sheep.
honkas - prose to poetry workshop (final edit) - further addition especially for jess
hi voltage cables and bits of PVC
there’s bound to be something interesting
he can make with these
not a spaceship, not a robot
something undefined
lost in imagination’s thrall
danger unnoticed
quietly stalking
honkas
not the small
those tender succulent
sumptuous joy
nor the huge
pinioned transport that soar
up and beyond
to enchantment
and lands where strange people live
but the medium-sized
long sharp teeth and giant wings
aggressive
hungry
Sherry and the scoundrel (workshop Prose to Poetry) Final edit... back to first write!
Working backwards
From what the firemen found
A lone woman
On the charred ground
Stilled lungs
Filled with Gasoline smoke
Won’t ever tell the tale
Of a heart so broke
A building burning
By criminal hand
A vengeful payback
For a drug deal demand
She might have made it,
The scoundrel's mole
But in the end,
It was her life they stole
She just couldn’t leave
Her puppy in the fire
So she went back in
To save her heart’s desire