Freeform Workshop

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  • Rookie Amandamae =) (11/6/2009 8:10:00 AM) Post reply
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    I comment on poems. So if you would like to know what i think about one of your poems then send me the title. I'll read it and comment. Im on Monday-Friday from 9-11am. This is in the United States. Eastern standard time. A few things to remember though... I enjoy reading poems that rhyme, it's like candy to my mind. ALSO, dont't forget, a good poet takes criticism into consideration.

  • Rookie Amandamae =) (11/5/2009 12:09:00 PM) Post reply

    I comment on poems. So if you would like to know what i think about one of your poems then send me the title. I'll read it and comment. A few things to remember though... I enjoy reading poems that rhyme, it's like candy to my mind. ALSO, dont't forget, a good poet takes criticism into consideration.

  • Rookie Angel OfGod (10/21/2009 5:39:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Free Form is an oxymoron. How can something be expressed freely if it has to have a particular form. The definition of Form is: the manner or style of arranging and coordinating parts for a pleasing or effective result. So in fact the verses at least need to be arranged so that they are pleasing. And Free: exempt or released from something specified that controls or restrains. So How can I be released to freely write my poetry if I have to do it in a manner or style that has effective and pleasing results? What if my intention is to rake my fingernail down some ones chalk board, which is how I write only with rhythm and rhyme, then I can’t call it Free Form? I will call it Free Verse instead.

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  • Rookie Dakota Stone (10/18/2009 12:07:00 PM) Post reply

    umm.... hey im all new to this sight and i would like to invite people
    to come read my poetry i have had a few people read them and i would love for more people to read them so i can get oppinions on what i should do better or what i should not do thank you i hope all of you have a wonderful day
    sincerly your friend,
    dakota lee

  • Rookie - 83 Points Bullion Grey (10/17/2009 6:49:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Free Form...isn't that what is the basis for the whole reality we think we observe? A complete, without reasons presented, whole does it all, FREE - of no cost, (How do we pay for anything like the fish in the deep, or creatures roaming?) , form - within set designs or precepts that are followed, form that no one individual can say for certain why form is a guide....ahh but we speak of the pen and paper. It is here where the freedom of form mixes and mingles, drawing from all, missing nothing, as the ideas present themselve's as living forms of what we call literature, or poetry....that sometime gather in a form that seems free of rule or boundry, or lines of limitations. FREE FORM.
    Where is the Form to write in the Free?
    What are the Free?
    Why even inquire?
    Bless our pens and papers that they don't stop with their understanding that surpasses our complete understanding, bless the individual who lets the inkling of thought, feeling and emotions to emote in the sight of others, who they themselve's await this 'literature'.

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    • Rookie - 83 Points Terri Turrell (11/9/2009 11:40:00 AM) Post reply

      The term free in free form depicts the ability of the form to bend. therefor it is a bending form. some forms don't bend. like the triolet or the septolet. some forms dont bend but are lenient..they a ... more

  • Rookie - 124 Points James Timothy Jarrett (10/14/2009 7:16:00 PM) Post reply

    Beat the plowshare

    Pound the drum

    Of war to come

    Rhythm on steel

    Red from the forge

    Forms the sword

    To carry to war

    The sledge makes beat

    On thinning edge

    As it pounds



    It sounds the drum

    Of war to come

    Soon it will be echoed

    By marching men

    and battle cries

    The sword will lead

    Followed by the sound

    Of drums



    To war

    Today, I beat my plowshare

    And listen to the drum

  • Rookie End Time (10/11/2009 9:40:00 AM) Post reply

    thoughts of suicide run through my head
    like little spiders haunting the hallways of an old mansion
    Something that was once so grad and majestic
    now there just the echoing sound of the wind flowing through my head
    as if the lights are on but it's clear noone is home anymore
    When did life go so wrong
    that I can no longer feel the sun's rays on my face,
    I just feel cold damp darkness
    inside of the mansion's basement
    watching as I slowly go insane through half a mirror that was broken long ago. Today is a new day they say,
    hmpf that rhymes,
    **** you all this is the same ****, it never changes,
    Once I felt happy when someone first finished building me,
    though it was clear they didn't know exactly what they were doing,
    but they put all their love into me,
    as the years rolled on like waves crashing on the beach
    it was clear that there is just not enough love to hold everything together, try as they might to fix me
    they couldn't keep up with my vastly deteriating body,
    all that is left now is thoughts of suicide
    and the cold cold feeling of being alone
    while I am still surrounded by newer dreams and love
    nothing seems to shake these feelings

  • Rookie Yisriella Pautz (10/11/2009 2:15:00 AM) Post reply

    I've just posted the first chapter of my new independent zine that I'm working on.

    Its been a labor of love, a tale of strength and at long last acceptance.

    You are welcome to check out this lengthy poem and hopefully share in the joy and catharsis of writing it.

    Entitled - Because..this is my story
    http: //

    Thanks much!

  • Rookie Delicia Eiland (10/10/2009 10:45:00 PM) Post reply

    I would like to invite you all to come read my newest poem entitled It's Not Funny! Please feel free to express your opinions. Thank you

  • Rookie - 83 Points Bullion Grey (9/25/2009 8:17:00 PM) Post reply

    Would you visit the clouds?
    Would you attend to the poor?
    Can you take a moment to contribute something of Love and Compassion to a stranger?
    These quest-ions are posed to me every week.
    I answer with studying clouds, naming them one by one, imagining that I am rider of the clouds, sharing their magnificence and joy.
    What wonder it must be to be a cloud. Angels of the sky I read some where, as they deliver water and capture water to be delivered again.
    Often the attending to the poor in my place is to share bits of food or words of insight, poems that lift spirits, join souls, and let us know we are not alone.
    Many times a month I share with a stranger, which is really a friend I haven't yet met, a simple smile, a soft thought from Beauty or Grace.
    It is sometimes acknowledged, and they return with surprising blessed words.
    Or they look strangely at me and walk onward as if I wasn't there....
    thats ok to.
    Somedays are better than others, and it is never predictable what will come my way. But it is important, it is a form of service to the greater whole. Jestures and words, poems and ideas all add to this ongoing life of living.
    I would like you to visit my site, which is some where between Satori and Agape.
    If you do, please look me up and we can share our experience alittle.
    Above all thank you for being able to play your part and I congradulate you on your effort. Into the Silence we go.....

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