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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/959444
Rated: 18+ · Campfire Creative · Poetry · Writing · #959444
Poets Turning Words Into Poems! Now Extinguished!
[Introduction] The Milkman has a campfire that I really enjoy that he created years ago - Check it out to see how it's done -
 Poetic Words on Fire  (13+)
No guitar playing here but why waste a good fire by only roasting marshmellows.
#685039 by The Milkman


In it you write a poem using a word given to you by the person writing before you.

It can be a short haiku or a longer poem, rhyming or not whatever you want, just make it poetic. It can be about anything and be any type of poem.

No restrictions except please respect the rating of this campfire.

Many moons ago, I started "A Poem A Week Campfire I and then "A Poem a Week Campfire II and we have worked to make nice campfires.

Now, after receiving a few requests, in order to include more of my friends and to make new friends (I hope - *Smile*) I have started another one here!

If your poem isn't in after a week, I'll skip so don't get your feelings hurt if I do skip you.

This will move at least once a month, I promise.

.... Unless I forget, then you can feel free to nag me about it, but I'll do my best to remember. And if I can't think of anything in a week, I'll even skip myself.

Thanks to The Milkman for agreeing to be in the first one and for GENEROUSLY sharing his idea.

Remember to not get your feelings hurt if and when you are skipped in this and everything will be fine and hopefully you will have fun!

If you can't think of anything, feel free to skip yourself.

Thanks for being in it! And if you want to be in it, please email me! *Smile*

Note: If you forget to give the next camper a word, I'll supply it or if I don't remember to do that - supply your own word!

You can even try and give the next person a new word that comes from your own poem!


Whatever you do, have fun and Write! *Smile*



Empty When Full

Names written in the dust
Transient life momento
Taken with the wind

Lives lived in despair
Ecstatic derelection
Duty abandoned

Nothing difficult
Challenges build fortitude
Revealed in good time

Timeless destiny
Hourglass remains empty
Trials are over

Century of change
Unifying invention
Blown all to pieces.....



Your word is: momento
A Non-Existent User
Endlessly

And so I travel
Endlessly wandering
Souvenir of rain

Here is a voyage
Endlessly questioning
Momento of pain

Time is a puzzle
Endlessly beckoning
Memory of light

And so I ponder
Endlessly reckoning
Burial of night

Your word is reckoning
A Non-Existent User
The air crackles with electricity.
Fire touches the sky.
Alone, I stand at the edge
of eternity.

I raise my arms and call out,
every fiber of my soul in agony.
The beginning of all things,
The end of all things.

The shadows form and coalesce
into a face both loved and hated.
The challenge is sent,
The answer is, "Yes!"

I smile at my enemy
and at my love.
It is time for payment---
It is time for reckoning

Your word is believe
"Have a Little Faith"

They say seeing is believing,
And for me that's generally true,
But sometimes you need to have faith,
And trust in what's hidden from view.

Believe in fairies, dragons, and elves,
Ghosts, goblins and other such beasts,
For they exist regardless of your convictions-
Your doubt bothers them not in the least!

Accept that there are witches and magic,
And that mother nature changes the season,
That angels look down on us from above,
And things really do happen for a reason.

Put your trust in a higher power,
Knowing things will go the right way,
And you will live a long, healthy life,
Enjoying love and happiness every day.

Karen Dean Salter
4/12/05


Your word is Luminous
A Non-Existent User

~*~
My lushous garden
portrays the image on the
magazine cover
~*~
Bringing bright colors
of daffodils and tulips
to our tiny home
~*~
The young apple tree
has opened up its green leaves
preparing for bloom
~*~
The beauty of spring
has awakened our senses
dormant from winter
~*~

Your word is Mural

A Non-Existent User
I hesitated at the front of line
right in front of the spicy shrimp
the steam rolling upwards
ready to cover my tears, had the
sneeze guard not been there to trap the mist.

I remembered how much you liked the spicy shrimp.
Funny isn’t it? How the memories
of our lives have no regards for time or place?
They just run themselves wildly through
our minds like murals painted by frantic artistic
colors and pictures linking
in a crazed spiral of emotions tugging at the very heart of pain.

*Heart*


Your word is Blue Dishes
On the Day I Left

On the day I left her,
my mother’s gaze ambled
around me,
with shocked recognition,
for the horizon had changed
and her hand was raising
an empty cup to her lips,
under the eyes of blue dishes
of weathered stone,
perfectly reflecting
words held at arm’s length
and an eternal empty space.

On the day I left her,
a cobalt storm,
like a dancer spinning zigzag
between shadows,
unwrapped things I could speak of
to no one.

***~~***

Your word is caravan
Caravan

Come on everyone let's go
Arriving there in a day or so.
Right behind one another
Allow room for no other
Very close we will trail
Add to this caravan at the tail
Night-driving and the time will sail.

Tammy


Your word is Peace
The phone call comes.
The news--I cannot bear.
Such a few words that bruise
the tender-hearted with fear.

Unbidden panic roils
in giddy, sickening waves.
Trying to swamp the unaware,
Waiting to see if she caves.

Striving to hold in the peace,
I pour sweet, fragrant oil on
the turbulent wells of grief.
Cherishing my star that once shone.

Peace be with you, Uncle Dougall



Next poet, your word is: {b{{c:lkhaki}cherish
A Non-Existent User
Times with you I cherish
Memories to keep me warm in old age
Deep in my mind I keep a book
Your picture is on every page.

I see your smile so open
I'll cherish that smile for all of my life
I turn a page and I recall
The day that I became your wife.

I cherish every picture now
I can no longer see your real face, dear
An ancient volume, old and worn
Keeps you alive and ever near.

Lynne.

Next poet, your word is Avalanche

Avalanche

The sunlight glistens on the frozen tundra
melting the icicles in my heart.
As I watch the crystaline diamonds sparkle
in the snow, my thoughts of you consume me.

I dance to the music on the wind as an avalanche of memories encase my mind,
and the thoughts of our forbidden love resurfaces with the thawing of my heart.

You had left me suddenly, with out a word,
and tore my world in two.
So I buried myself in a frozen wasteland,
frigid against any who would dare to enter.

Now no longer entombed beneath layers of ice,
my desire for you has resurfaced.
As I gaze upon your loving eyes,
my world is warm again.


Ginger


Word for next poet canary






Canary

I decided to buy a pet.
I wanted one that was cute and sweet.
I promised that if it got sick, I would take it to a vet.
I suddenly got worried. How much would it eat?

I went to the pet store and saw a cute cat.
It had a nasty smile-
and reminded me of The Cat In The Hat.
I will pass. I will look for something else even if I have to walk a mile.

I found a yellow canary.
I loved to hear it sing.
The problem was, it was so hairy.
I bought him anyway and I felt like a king.

My canary shed his feathers.
Now, he isn't so hairy.
I love my new friend and he is there for me in all kinds of weather.
I named him Cheater. A little song bird, my sweet canary.

Your word is feathers.


Phoenix
Russet feathers fold downward,
vanishing into vermillion flames.

Only time will tell if
amid the golden embers
in their noble flight,

if through the darkened ash
and schisms of sunlight

will she come to rise again.

Your word is: origin
I feel a certain rumbling,
Inside my little tummy,
Its getting louder as I speak,
It's making me feel crummy.
I try to make it quieter,
But it doesn't want to listen,
The frogs and toads and butterflies,
Just keep on rubling and hissing.
I don't know what's their origin,
or how to make them cease,
So i just fling myself onto my bed,
and say "Go away please"

Your word is "Peculiar"
A Non-Existent User


Talking to a mutual friend
I was blindsided when he told me
that you were with him
at that moment.
My heart didn't miss the
beats it skipped
because I was breathing so
fast I didn't notice.
Teased and tortured by
memories far too clear for
them to have happened
three years ago,
I blinked back tears,
and asked you to say hello
to him
for me.
On this side of the DSL connection
I was shattered.
Outside smoking, I try not to remember us.



your word is: stranded
You left me all alone, stranded,
in a sea of sharks. I
a mere cuddlefish trying in vain,
I admit, to blend in. They sense my fear,
I must reek of it. They come closer,
closer still, sufficating me with their
awesome power. My breath escapes, Coward!
Come back! The lights are next to go.
I have escaped!
Breath returns reluctantly.
Next the lights as I inhale
deeply and open my eyes.
Why are they smiling? What manner
of mischeif are they planning?
"You're new around here arn't
ya, you play basketball?"
Thus, was my first day at school.


next word Hippo
A Non-Existent User
Lippo the Hippo

Lumbering menace
Displacing water body
Still, there is a grace

To this beastly one
Shall we ask him to supper?
Share some hay, kick back?

Can a hippo kick back?
What kind of name is Lippo?
Will the herd disperse?

Gossiping bovines
Judgmental horned mooing throng
Open your closed minds

Welcome a writer
Share your hay with this Lippo
Grow with his friendship
Better for experience
Live beyond your daily cud!

Your word is disperse
A Non-Existent User
The clouds of despair and doubt
Crowd the sunshine out
And rain falls on my head.

The path I have chosen has led
To a sharp incline instead
of a gently sloping hill.

Gravel challenges my will
I slide further down until
I reach the very first verse...

And the clouds and rain disperse.

Your word is skirt.
My Daughter

I can see you getting older every day
I can see your personality emerging,
In so many little unique ways.
I want to stop time and keep you young.

I want you to stay happy and carefree,
Smiling, dancing, playing out of harm.
I want to keep you always beside me,
I want to keep you safe and secure.

So pretty and tall with your curly hair,
In your punky shirt and frilly skirt.
So passionate with all your cares,
So talented in all that you attempt.

I will support you in all that you do,
Remain by your side through thick and thin.
My unconditional love will carry us through,
And will one day set you free, to make your way.





As no word was given,
I chose my word as passionate
from Tammy~Catchin Up~ 's poem above.


The Change

Trees swell in clouds of
pink and white frills,
abounding with the joy
of Spring's exuberant bouquet.

Birds are a-twittering,
as they feed their young,
nesting in haybarns and
under the home's eaves.

Lambs - black and white -
bound around the paddock
like coiled springs let fly,
and with as little responsibility.

Spring brushes away the cold
with tender fingers of colour.
With a passionate embrace
it cloaks the world in new life.



Your word: haybarn


A Non-Existent User
Romping in the haybarn
Having such a lark,
Footsteps come towards us,
My boyfriend whispers, "hark!"

We snuggle down into the hay,
We are completely hid,
The farmer doesn't know we're here,
He'd go mental if he did.

He's picking up a pitchfork,
Oh, isn't this a farce,
He stabbed it through a bale of hay
And jabbed my boyfriend in the arse!

Your word is: binoculars

Looking through binoculars
I saw what seemed to me.
A mighty whale a floating
Upon the briney sea.

It wallowed in the shallows
Just soaking up the sun.
Enjoying life's sweet pleasures
Staying cool and having fun.

The gentle waves did brush its sides
Caressing each blubbery fold.
While the mighty whale twist and turned
Then on its back it finally rolled.

I watched it turn and float toward shore
And worried that it might beach.
And die alone on that burning sand
With no family within its reach.

My heart was pounding heavily
As I raced down to the shore.
Fearing I would be too late
His death would be ever more.

But as I reached the floundering whale
my heart did miss a beat.
It rose from out of the water
And walked on its two feet.



Beach

I love to go to the Beach!
Don't you love how the tides roll in?
You try to touch them but they go back into the ocean and are out of reach.
There they go. The waves are coming back in again.

Seagulls fly and cry out in the sky-
as I sit at the beach and write my next book.
I look at the boats on the ocean as they sit up high-probably catching fish with their nets and hooks.

It has been a nice sunny day.
I try not to get too much sun.
The sun is blinding me as I strain my eyes to look out over the bay.
I see beautiful dolphins at play.

The sea gulls fly to the lighthouse close by.
The faithful monument that has protected ships over the years.
I let out a sigh.
I watch children and barking dogs on the pier.

The sun is going down.
I need to leave as my husband will soon be home.
I take one last look at the beach and listen to all the sounds.
Time to go. I have to pack for my trip to Rome.

Your Word is: Protected
Tai Shan


Protected panda, we share a date
China at two, don't be late
Climb in your tree
What's that you see?

Eat your bamboo
All day and night too
Treasured are you for all your life
Til you find a mate, a panda wife

Life in a zoo, far from home
Not too bad, your habitat roam
Find a way to help bear cubs and others
Bring them closer to their dads and mothers

Your word is: habitat
Sharing Spaces


Little squirrel within my wall
I really think you’re cute and all
But must we share this house of mine?
And can’t it be a tree you climb,

Instead of bouncing on my roof?
Your "scritch, scritch, scritch" is plenty proof
That you are where you shouldn’t be
You’re in my wall and not a tree.

My house, it is my habitat.
My house, it’s also where you’re at.
I know you’re cute, but please just go.
You keep me awake with your to and fro.

What is that you said to me?
You’re not a squirrel? What can you be?
Little animal within my house...
What are you then? Oh no, a mouse!



Your word is snowflake
A Non-Existent User
Little snowflakes drift helplessly down
tumbling into one another,
piling in giant stacks of cold quiet
they rest from their peerless journey.

Having brought down the filt
disguising their pain within the shell
of their beauty,
they await the melting-

the time of cleansing,
and washing away to the floods
where they gather their strength
to rise as warriors again

ready to fulfill their downward purpose.
Had I their courage-
their conviction
to continue my circle of purpose.

It is there waiting for me.
I need only ask for the light
and I become the new snowflake falling

gathering the dust and rubble of a lifetime
disguising the pain within my shell
and awaiting the melting-
the time of cleansing.

For I will rise as a warrior
against the insanity of this circle
that clouds me from my journey
making me afraid to strike out against it.

Make way for us snowflakes-
we mean to cover you with peace
for only then can we receive the light
and the melting clean of the sun comes through.


Your Word Is- Jealousy
{/center}

Jealousy

I feel the whiff
of insecurity…for
chaotic, lucid,
stealthy
jealousy nails
its herringbone fangs
in your frail frame,
stifling reason.
You whine green,
eaten alive
in bits,
every sinew, every bone
rattling with
the mad fever.
Pride chases shame;
wrath burns
in the blood.
To temper it,
I still want my arms around you,
at this precise moment
before you end the world.

-------------

Your word is borders.
BORDERS

Back off, get out of my space.
Obvious emotions hidden
Regrets lay alone,
Dormant. Only to rise when
Evoked by hurtful
Realizations that
Should BE left in the past.
Tammy


Next word is dormant.
Settled within
Sleeping, hiding
Life yet to begin
Waiting, biding

Secret unseen
Denied, uninspired
Forgotten, never been
Cloaked, choked

Sun is rising
Awaken
New green shooting
Unforsaken



Your word: Uninspired
Uninspired
by
Eugenia C Wesch

I set my keyboard on my lap
with fingers poised above.
For writing poetry had become
the pastime that I love.

My fingers ached to pound the keys
to create the perfect poem.
But all I tried was not enough
as I sat there all alone.

The keys were cold the monitor blank
not a letter on the screen.
I scratched my head and bit my nails
trying not to scream.

As minutes passed and turned to hours
the day darkened into night.
My head was aching, my feet went numb
My spine was feeling tight.

As sadness made my shoulders droop
and I felt so uninspired.
I raised voice in an anguished cry
and told my muse she's fired.




I chose the word muse.

Where would I be without my muse?
I call my muse Princess Narnia
but I sometimes change her name.
With my muse, I can't lose-
hopefully my writing will achieve some fame.

I let my imagination run wild,
I walk around the castle halls-
sometimes I go back into my mind when I was a child.
I know my muse will help me as my writing calls.

I write a short story,
I write a book.
My writing is my glory.
I would rather write then cook.

I don't care if I write my life away.
My muse Princess Narnia is by my side-
as I write another day.
Writing is my life and precious words I do live
by and abide as I keep my pride!

Your Word is: Fame
A Non-Existent User
Fame
by Mara Cruvant

Know or be known;
Say or be said.
Our stories are whispered
Long after we're dead.

Fame: it wants us,
Not the other way 'round-
For fame outlives bodies
And bones in the ground.

It hides all our goals
To suit its desires.
We can't keep our cool
To fend off its fires.

Unfair as this seems,
Legends always go on.
The stories Life pens
Still sing when we're gone.

-------------------

Your word is:
goldfish

Goldfish

I cast my lot upon the shore,
my shoes and clothes scattered in the sand.
I inched my way into the silken waters while
I clutched a goldfish gently in my hand.

The water was deep and
quicksilver sparkled on its surface.
A slight breeze ruffled my hair and
I waded in further with a definite purpose.

Charlie was my dearest friend,
a pet for many years.
When I was nervous I watched him swim,
he calmed away my fears.

Now his death has hit me hard,
I feel all alone you see.
What more fitting final good-by
then a burial at sea.

Your word: INSCRIPTION
center}A Tribute To Papaw

I climb the hill as nettles sting my legs
To see the stone that covers where you lie
The honeysuckle clinging to the crags
The pines that brush the blue Kentucky sky

A man of many means, you farmed your land
Menagerie of animals you kept
The works of wood created by your hand
The many folk that in your death they wept

The sons and daughters and grandchildren young
Were blessed to have your blood run through their veins
The dark coal dust that blanketed your lung
Took you too soon, your memory remains

The inscription there is deeply etched in grey
I hope to join you on that hill some day

__________________________________________


Your word: DESIGN
My Own Design

Behind these innocent eyes,
A shrine for reflective words.
Smiling through a rain of tears,
A prison of my own design.
Forever alone, remembered in a dream,
Stumbling through the past,
Snowballing into tomorrow,
Never let me go.
He was always a stranger,
His silence his calling card.
Fields of glory turned sour-
So long yellow brick tin man.
Leave the Emerald City to me.

Your word is "oddity"
A Non-Existent User
She was born to a family of Easterns
who live by the sea and for the shore.
Living in condos and eating shrimp cocktails
they find her an oddity for sure.
Because she chooses the rich soil of America’s entrails
living on land and planting the seed.

“Why, oh why”, they cry
“has she left our shores in favor of yours?”
“What beauty is there in land so flat and barren
when one could gaze upon the waves?”

She smiles in answer knowing they can not understand.
Joyous in her decision and loving the choice
for the beauty she sees in fields of wheat
and open skies that glow blue with poised
white clouds so elite
only angels can touch their glory.

It was her love that brought her there
and if she be an oddity it is a commodity
that gives her strength and courage to love
beyond their pleasure-- all of God’s treasure.


Your word is: Scarecrow
Winter falls with a signature of snow,
And hearths blaze a warmth while lit all aglow.
The ground blanketed with a frigid frost,
Something missing in the yard...something lost.

"Where be the scarecrow?" cried the Granger man.
"There be no other to do what he can..."
There it peeked under this Season's embrace,
Patiently awaiting next Season's grace.

Spring leaps upon the opening flowers,
Bringing honey air and April showers.
Buzzing bees and busy birds fly about
Singing sweet songs of love and songs of doubt.

"There be the scarecrow!" said the Granger man.
"There be no other to do what he can..."
There it smiled with a glorious gold shine,
A light so bright you might think it divine.

Summer sears the pebbles of the sidewalk,
And ants crawl silent as they slowly stalk.
The treasure dwindles in the sultry sun,
A plague that no beverage can make undone.

"There be the scarecrow!" shouts the Granger man.
"There be no other to do what he can..."
There it rested in the shade one tree,
Waiting for the next Season gleefully.

Then Fall came and the leave's all changed their hue,
The treasure found its way and quickly grew.
And the birds came too, not one but many
In fact one could count more than aplenty.

"There be the scarecrow!" said the Granger man.
"There be no other to do what he can..."
There it stood, murder all about his place...
Usually they scare, but not in this case.


Your word is "glee"

Summertime Invasion Redux

A moth sips sun-warmed breakfast dew
As songbirds bid the night adieu;

Sweet melody,

Without a warning growl or yell
Invader, mindless, wields death’s knell
With slashing blades and noxious smell;

Heeds not the plea

For mercy, nor gives reason why
Cut row by row, the fallen cry

Their elegy

Resounds in nascent fledglings’ cries
To reach the rainbow’s end, the skies
Provoked to tears, let anger rise

In sympathy

‘Till with a roar, the Furies’ might
Unsheathed, a blade a searing light
Does strike to end lawnmower’s blight

To harmony.

The mangled metal carapace
Washed clean by summer’s rain, a place
Where nestlings sip from clover buds

And sing their glee.


Next word, if you like = twilight




To see the truth at twilight
You don't need a house or skylight
What's needed is a soul
So lacking in the fold

Politicians make a mess
Economic shambles at best
One no better than the last
Truth dies in office so fast

Rather live in a fabled story
Life's rhyme love's true glory
Make your days a mission won
So, you smile at last when done


Thanks to all my campers! This campfire stalled more than a year ago and a few of us have mooved on. I thank you all who contributed to this poetic journey!

The End!

© Copyright 2005 ♥holiday tHiNg♥, xx-xx, xx-xx, The Blue Dream, Desert * Rain, xx-xx, Joy, Tammy~Catchin Up~, Puditat, xx-xx, super sleuth, Princess Megan Rose, why she wrote, Mary Jane Watson, xx-xx, luvccritters2, Kenzie, xx-xx, Ravenwand, Rising Star!, Odilis, Kate Giving Thanks, (known as GROUP).
All rights reserved.
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