Complete compiled version of the MWC Attempt to write the Longest Poem in the English language can be found here:

http://www.words.fords.co.nz/archives/LongestPoem.html

For PDF see bottom of this message 



Please study this notice carefully before joining in our attempt to write the longest poem in the English language.

Our poem is a collaborative attempt to write the longest poem in the English language.

By posting to the poem each contributor, while retaining copyright in his or her contribution, waives editorial rights in the context of The Longest Poem.

The poem is a journal of the lives of its writers, both personal and social. Write about your day, about what's going on around you or in the wider world, how you feel about particular social issues or, in fact, about anything at all.

The poem reflects the fact that it is a meeting of many minds and cultures, and so different styles and content are welcome, with the proviso that abusive, vulgar or otherwise objectionable material will be removed.

Please do not give your poem a title, except for heading it up as mentioned below. This is because your contribution is a part of the whole poem.

The all-over style will be that of free verse.

Any poetic device is permissible, with the exception that there should not be more than two end rhymes in any one contribution.

Each new contribution should be headed up as follows:

MWC:board name of contributor:location

A contribution will thus look like this: 

Date and time
MWC:Anon:USA

Hey diddle diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon.
The little dog laughed,
To see such fun,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.

The first line of each individual contribution should be loosely linked to the one above in some way, with the aim of unifying the whole. This can be done by by repetition of one word from the last four lines of the previous contribution or by use of end rhyme.

Contributions should be a minimum of two lines, with no maximum.

Please put any comments regarding the poem itself, our progress towards our aim, or any questions, on the Writing Games and Activities thread at http://www.mywriterscircle.com/index.php?topic=8229.0 , and not in the thread below (which is solely for contributions).

Allie and Fordy will be compiling the whole into single documents on an ongoing basis, but it would be a good idea for those particularly interested to also do this for themselves, and it would be nice to have these as backup. Done on a daily basis this compilation should be quite simple and not too time-consuming (although if it turns out to be so we will know that we are doing well as regards length.)


Finally, if you know of any member of MyWritersCircle who might be at all interested in contributing, please give them directions to both threads.

MWC:Allie:Irl

I almost lost it too,
The start of something big
But things never go quite to plan,
There are always little ends
To be tied up,
Then others unravel when
Your back is turned.
I believe they call it
Life.

MWC: kalikan, USA

Tomorrow is overblown,
trite. 
We're told to live in the present,
to enjoy those little smiles,
or maybe citric sunsets.

But the present offers nothing
but time.
The present is enveloped in
bills, paperwork, files,
fights with parents,
fights with spouses.
The present is filled with
pain from your throbbing toe
or boredom from broken clocks.
The present even consumes,
quickly eating away at those favorite
pasttimes--slowly savoring
choco choco crunch ice cream,
or watching your son frolic
under a citric sunset.

Once the sky is
emptied of our favorite fruit
and bespeckled with frosty-gleam,
just hope tomorrow
will bring less consumption,
or atleast a little more ice cream.

But if I look again
I know that I will find
Another year is past
Will I lose more than fear
That I might yet lose all?

Prospero - United States

Oh yes Ye Gods.
They looked down on me today.
Of all the corners to turn, and to think I helped it along
The thick sense of something once sacred now lost has sent them screaming for deliverance
to some long gone motor trade lover of tyranny in the guise of a long ago God.

MWC: Terrasque, USA

The reign of feud and hatred will ever uphold,
as we are fed sins by arrogant tyrants,
with fiery breath and bloodied swords.
It always seems evil is more mighty
than good, but it isn't so, it is merely a
state of the mind.  Good will forever humble
evil ten fold.  Evil only creates the illusion
of power, for it is far easier to be truly evil,
than it is to be truly good - and we cling
to an enigma thread of hope.

MWC: Leigh, USA

Truth is, another day is spent
in the taking care of others
obligations, innocence,
cannot be negated.
Drive the children, call the friend
turn the post key in the box
wipe the noses, build the lunch
put away the toys once more.
Don't act frustrated.
Smile, laugh, sit on the chair
little bodies in your lap
read the pictures, point out words
this is red, and blue, and green
here are A, and B, and C
sticky pages turned once more.
Lay the sweet small heads upon
pillows worn and soft.
Be glad you waited.
Turn back the paisly window sheer-
out beyond the fir-limned reach
fifty northern miles far
the volcano sleeps.

MWC:Allie:Irl

I awakened just a while ago
To the snore of a plane going over
Headed for some far-off place,
The States or Oz or New Zealand.
It felt strange to me
Because I had just returned from
Such a journey.
In my dream
I had been riding on a bus rigged out
Like a church,
With crosses on the walls,
And people I used to know
Sitting by me. They talked of the old days
In ways that they wouldn't have done
Before,
The secret goings-on,
Told me things about themselves
That I had never known.
It was as if, in dreaming of them,
They had been unpeeled
To become
The people I once wished they had been.
For they were my enemies then
And now I think they might have become
Something more.