Tag Archives: Poem

‘Amazing like a minotaur’s mancave’: Exquisite Corpse poems (3 of 3)

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See previous recent Exquisite Corpse poems by my current students here and here. These lines are from my 9th hour class.

“Like I really care” is how war starts.

People love when this class ends and then starts again.

Beauty in a girl that we are not terrified of.

Food can taste good with you and me.

Fun-loving father, won’t you sing and dance to the thing?

Peter is a name that is a rib sandwich with turkey and bacon.

You have no food at the front of the panda.

Blue trident of the Poseidon has something like Trident gum.

Teachers are the coolest people that have big feet.

Reindeer cannot really fly, like you won’t again.

Weekend nights are crazy like a turkey sandwich on T.V.

Doing this is so funny that I can’t write anything good at all.

Home is where you don’t slip on the banana shoved in my mouth.

Meth lab coats are so pretty.

Silly rabbit, tricks are for everyone to eat pizza.

Ugly is the new pretty.

Singing Michael Jackson while cooking makes me have to poop.

Number the stairs to remind me to do chores like smoking the salmon.

Medicine cabinets show criminals in a comfy place with friends.

Rosy lips and cheeks bending like I’m the bender.

The ocean said that I’m ugly. Jerk.

Zoos remind me of memories, like the time I liked smelling myself.

The worst feeling in the entire day has gone well for the first time.

In the right mind, your own business people pledge to help but can a wood chuck Norris?

Tomorrow I get to see the dawn’s early light pigs jumping on top.

Real friends are better than a hot dog with barbeque sauce and chicken tenders.

Children are the most adorable cucumbers in their minivan.

Kitten is to cats as basketball games are amazing like a minotaur’s mancave.

Stuck between a rock and roll is lightning!

No question is a horrible thing on a stick.

Bad things can always happen when I decide to go out of house.

I live like you are dying.

Weak boys are for babies, and men are for the first time in the catacombs.

Hard classes make me mad at the cashier’s mood.

Spell sombrero upside down.

We are young so let’s jump off a bridge somewhere over the rainbow.

Skittles are in the toilet like the pink one your grandma had.

New exciting things always happen at the end of life.

My day is going swell, up like a balloon.

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed cold on Thanksgiving dinner.

Mean old man chases down a newly dug grave.

But who even knows the truth to the world?

Very interesting people are in the big giant fluffy bunny.

Bad friends have better things to do.

Lame people are very exciting places to see.

Mayonnaise is like her legs.

Old shoes taste like old men.

A taco is what my mom is who gave birth.

Some flowers smell like red roses are red.

Violet is blue. I prefer it green.

Would you like to kiss me later tonight? I am going to eat a green pickle.

The whole pack of cigarettes is very gross too unless they are in the boogey move dance.

She always forgets herself in the nasty store.

Boy, do I love when school is over the river and through the woods.

Poems rhyme but only sometimes.

Is this a joke or is this a joke?

You are very cute in hot salsa.

Food cramps I get when my father dropped the new Sponge Bob rocks.

‘Every guy is a serious conversation with a kangaroo’: More Exquisite Corpse poems (2 of 3)

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More new Exquisite Corpse poems from this semester’s creative writing class; these are from my fourth-hour section. See here for more from this fall.

Guts are in the body and the mind.

Tranquility on the moon when the moon blows up to touch the sky.

Bathrooms are where to be, or not to be, mean.

I don’t want this anymore, so I will touch the backside of the bouncy castle.

Pizza, given the circumstance, is a big word.

Then I was like I was doing something.

Corn makes the cork sound a lot like cake.

Fish, scaly and forever moving like a cactus sleeps.

When we had his funeral was last week on the bench next to your front door.

Midnight is when the narwhal who ate the man’s large chest smacked the truck.

We will all tumble down the stairs, breaking up with you because it was really cold.

Snack time is for a question unanswered.

My child climbed up the slippery, so don’t fall down the, stairs.

She went to the mall yesterday. I had to work hard and play hard when she walked in.

Every way he went, people knew that apple.

Tuxedos look good on penguins deep in ice epiphany.

Night time is so pretty ugly when the clouds of smoke came from buying some illegal DVDs about baby dolphins swimming.

And “he shall bamboozle” was what she said to fly a kite.

Grapefruit is not a fruit, which proves mangoes are so boring and hungry after playing a game.

The little boy short and very annoying when I grew my hair.

Melodies played loudly in the fish in the ocean.

Eating bananas alone is a fun way to show off.

Anything can happen with hope; I can also.

She whispered, “Oh! Watermelon, watermelon, watermelon, watermelon is a red fruit is what loves me.”

The world is ending, was rather sad but

Soft, curvaceous, kind — but French fries are better.

The zoo is a great place, is so much fun to party at night when you climbed into a wet, dark hole in one.

Serendipity: like when ice cream melts into my friend’s car.

Of course it’s hot inside a person’s eye.

I do what I wish I had.

Yonder window breaks my heart that she fell down the stairs.

Fish open the gate to gardens where the seahorses play with the three girls.

Love is not love which alters when it was really, really awkward.

I like to go to the gym with my heart’s desire.

A weird-word dictionary, book-Bible God is all-knowing, or not.

Not only the pepper, but also we bake a dozen eggs that broke on the parade float stands by the blue bleachers at a game.

Pepperoni face has feelings.

Feelings are way too mainstream.

The trees’ leaves fell off a cliff and she fell over rocks.

A baby lion tried to scratch my back as we kill the neighbors across the field.

My milkshake brings all the courage it took.

My life is full of jerks and jocks; also, thine own demise is a cruel word.

A cruel word is very, very boring in the way of the day’s death, twilight.

I hate when people are wasteful; they waste the hairspray for my dog.

The ocean is very blue and usually likes eating tacos.

Common is a rapper who will be the next fire truck.

The best way to do it is with long nasty hair with the German sparkle.

Stagnate like a baker who will end the game tonight.

Old and beautiful ancient toys break when babies will bury their bottles.

Soda pop is sticky, and carbonated car engine is loud.

Most people don’t know when I can eat this with a spoon with my cute pet, the largest hedgehog ever — ever — getting back together.

The woman with huge hands grabbed ahold of me and yet he — doth thou even lift?

Why is that question, and answer this: question all that is wanderlust like a Pilgrim who will eat the cookie?

Sun shine on the beach is so hot, but I love Mexican food, which was already cold.

That is wrong done.

I love to go to the store for me to realize how would you like it.

Match the shirt with the mastermind of the American flag.

Finite color, whatever that means.

Something is gonna kill me after lunch.

Set my heart ablaze like a fire tomorrow.

Event-planning like Aunt Betty’s old maple syrup recipe to make fudge brownies but not the kind lady gave me.

Me, myself, and I will love to share me and her workout with heffalumps and weasels.

In my nightmares, paranoia like a Reece’s Pieces of my heart scattered bones everywhere at the ugly park.

Clothes should never be on and off with emotions.

The topic of the size of the cat is lame.

Nails can be pretty, or you could buy milk.

Bones break under pressure, so I married my sister.

That led her to God, but he shan’t give me money, so I am a weird kid who does other things.

Harold can’t ever fix the tires to my mom.

This is not what I am ready for.

Day or night, he will love to see the classroom is boring.

Floating around the big lake house is the perfect way to end the night.

Violets are black and falling apart from my baby girl.

The weird troll sang my favorite song when the saints go marching down by the river.

Games don’t like me.

Freddy Kruger saw the sign, and it was huge, and loud music is the way you turn right, and then I can go watch this girl play volleyball.

Very big animals hate my facial features.

I never had to smell a rose like donkeys who jump down the water park slide to the right.

Every guy is a serious conversation with a kangaroo.

Movie stars will always start something in the far distance between us, creating feelings.

Sweet chocolate is like heaven seems to be, so I do not forget that I gotta go to the bathroom bad enough to cry excessively.

Excessively telling is not a way to eat food.

I do not like to eat what I see.

Big hopes and dreams crushed God.

Stuff is fun to have.

Solstice fruit punch tastes like the way the shore line were many shells.

People just aren’t the same thing as I said to kill my brother.

‘Most flowers die fast or get passed gas’: Exquisite Corpse poems (1 of 3)

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New Exquisite Corpse poems from this semester’s creative writing class, second hour. Minor changes (punctuation, appropriate word endings) were made to improve readability. I love how poems created somewhat randomly, unintentionally, end up being so wonderfully surprising.

He shaves your grandma’s legs when cash rules everything.

Love is a many-splendored thing that scares us so.

I’m giving up, up, and away.

Stop signs are pointless because there are many dogs.

Bed time is my favorite color.

Underwear is like outerwear, except for the exceptionalism of the word.

Donkeys are dumb animals on the edge of moonbeams and rainbows having to see the light at the end.

I did not want to drink, or not, to my house and kids I destroyed.

I need you to find true love, which is beautifully hot in Acapulco with coconut.

Winter is the season that rhymes with a bat.

I want a drink of me and the time.

And the award goes to go home sad.

The alligator chewed the gum loudly. The trumpet played quietly.

I ate is the past tense purpose of writing.

Good fortune is bad luck in the bowl of being the best person.

Death-defying stunts are two words that cannot express hatred.

The future will never change.

Big people eat a lot of the tip of my nose.

To the supermarket for 20 years to life.

True friends don’t really exist, like in Jurassic Park with dinosaurs running around.

Mate like two moths under the sea where [you’d] better run or else nothing matters the most.

Twelfth Street is the place where the people stay with me ‘til we are like you.

See the big trees die in the clear blue skies and cold lemonade.

The tree was at the park to hold my love.

You gave up instantly the coffee began spilling.

Red violets are blue; I’ve been drinking watermelon juice.

Time goes by very much in the style that only I have.

Your personality intrigues me to rescue her majesty and marry her hair.

Most flowers die fast or get passed gas.

Orange squares taste exactly enough.

Milk does a body; good God, we need ketchup.

Goldfish are very funny looking through Alice’s looking glass.

The ocean sand in your toes feels like gorillas on water.

Mind-numbing gets done at the people.

The cutest little girl in the middle of the ocean where the water looks like an ugly monkey.

Once upon a time flies when you’re having a kitten.

Why did she do whatever you want to do with my favorite food?

Last night I experimented with all the power in a meadow for unicorns.

“This isn’t fun anymore” reminds me of Macklemore.

“Very odd” is what people call me later.

Selfish people always live longer than an elephant’s trunk that has baby chickens.

Night owl was an owl that I wanted to eat.

Me? I’m the best I ever had.

Man, I feel like a person with a pair of socks.

Any dish makes me feel greatness.

A wild animal had been really confused lately.

Like playing a musical chicken that sings girly stuff, yo’ daddy likes when pony tails aren’t.

Clean is better than nothing.

I’m excited about girls who stink like you.

Poem: A cat IS a cloud

Some smoke from a cake —

more steam than icing —

clouds a cat.

Some grass became pie

under dark candy-bugs.

A breeze tree, a growl in the belly,

is a smile on porcelain, or

a window with a heart.

Caramel and coffee with fish

make dirt, an eye, and a cup.

Candy glass:

my brother in sky;

a cat IS a cloud

[Written 2013 Nov. 4 using magpo.com. As I was playing around, a process idea came along: use no verbs, pick only concrete nouns – though some got used as adjectives and as figurative language]

Poem: A Decaying God

a decaying god

explores what he once

desired. he wakes a ghost

— a liquid-colored eye –

that never remembers

the growl of grass

on an autumn eve, when

even bugs breathe a lip rhythm

on an iced flower.

 

 

smoke works.

 

 

the night bleeds sex — an

eternal candy —

and, and air, and —

 

kiss her here. that window

haunts a sacred self.

Poem: Notes are the notes of a noted gone world

At the Milwaukee County Zoo, Aug. 2013.

At the Milwaukee County Zoo, Aug. 2013.

(Don’t press for an overall theme from this poem — just read it aloud, perhaps enjoy the rhythms.)

                                                               oh, the people:

hard-hearted barkers of a technophobe’s display–

tremendous complicity, the elephant’s dismay;

tendrils of sanity, floating off the standpipe.

Harmonies of vanity rage thru the open mic.

No one notices what everybody knows;

ten-footed toadstools muck up the nose.

Marble-handled pitchforks do no good;

toothless mongooses snort out loud.

Motherless ducklings are really swans;

motherless adults are orphaned blondes.

It matters not whether day or sky,

but floating all into the pile

of platitudes and punditry, mockery erase

snowed-over battlements, totally defaced.

Motorized cannibals mount an attack;

the donut store carnival, alley in back.

Notes are the notes of a noted gone world;

skin is the fin in the shark unfurled.

Mickey Mouse carousel betrays Minnie Mouse —

                              he’s giving rides all day long.

Poems: The Butter Dished

Sculpture "The Calling" by Mark di Suvero, outside Milwaukee Art Museum. (Photo by Humble Genius.)

Sculpture “The Calling” by Mark di Suvero, outside Milwaukee Art Museum. (Photo by Humble Genius.)

The Butter Dished

Margarine is a poem

butter wrote

to save itself.

 

A Corral for the Chorus 

(For the fun of the sound of the words)

A corral for the chorus

is holey like

Nerf butter, with

cheese to bridge

the lyrical divide,

a prismatic schism.

The coopersmith’s

staves derange

their doppelganger’s

soda pop.

‘Punk rock is not my dear Aunt Frank’: More Exquisite Corpse Poems (2nd of 2)

For introductory explanation, see previous post.

Her origami smells like your love of dogs.

Fast running is not very reliable.

Now is the time for score, and seven years until my cat dies.

Money is my favorite thing, with some stuff, and then the cops came home like I never say you can’t.

A healthy unicorn ate my baby girl that no one notices.

Old ladies love old men.

Love is admiring something’s beauty, and the beast is Miley Cyrus, cried the young son.

Who will watch your mind? I have no mind.

The man-eating bunny is just a rabbit.

Time is always poorly wasted.

Easy does it, but hurry up now, you child of mine. You are my sunshine babe.

My shiny bicycle, wobbly and shaking — it’s hard to define this section.

Youthful old people still die.

Yum is what candy tastes like, heaven with sin.

Amazing things always happen never.

The one who has the pirate once said, “this is so long, bro.”

“Me scurvy is acting up” is the way where the wild things dance like nobody is watching you pee while eating away at my insides.

Distorted TV pictures make me or a tiger wild and dangerous.

Breathing like I’ve been running makes me very unhappy.

My domain name is nothing but letters.

The everlasting time traveler gets lost at Petro.

I don’t care to explain yourself.

Sometimes the dog can whistle your problems to someone.

Monkeys fling poo towards me because I want yogurt.

“Off with his head and toes” are in LeBron James’ poetry.

Music is the worst thing that I like most of the time here and now.

“Bro” is the name he lives in.

Here lies the body. Of course I like salmon.

A sweetie told my mother to say “that is good riddance; I hate going to the air balloon.”

Overrated is rated too overly.

An overly ambitious cab driver has smells that are lightly crisp, and remind me of Kit-Kats.

Hate is not nice love.

Big tigers are very big; Europe is not so.

Cows never loved you.

Punk rock is not my dear Aunt Frank.

Turtle beats the hare every time I see you are my nemesis now.

Kittens will kill you hard enough to scratch glass.

As it always seems, you’ve broken the black cat of me.

One flower is all left turn on Second Street lights dangerously placed.

Was the chicken really worth anything anymore? And that I need to know about the chupacabra in the bathtub, yo. How are you, man?

You punched my big nose is what I smell.

Two dolphins walked into bars and held on tight.

Another plane of existence is futile, ye wench.

You are beautiful, no matter of fact.

Will you sign your name and find yourself there?

Word is a stupid word.

Dinosaurs blame the government, twisting words and alibis.

Words are sometimes very weird-beard on your face.

“Rawr” is what a lion is the phrase for.

Mandatory that you have fun time to sleep in a pool of vomited words like sour and sweet mixed together.

Number the amount of children [who] are becoming new elders.

The grand piano sounds heavenly in silence with really big bells.

The gingerbread man I’m behind now: Thanks for not being there.

Elsewhere must be near.

The kindergarteners are not the best of all I get me out of hell.

Hell has cookies, apparently, so has come the lion.

Upset emotions were lacking with her old blue shoes that I want a dog in.

The Jonas Brothers’ rock is the best music, is my life-blood, is a gross sacrifice to my grandpa’s parrot.

Murder is a serious crime like stealing someone’s lipstick.

What are you really saying that he doesn’t want to know many more?

More than words can describe this thingy-thing-thing, what is this thing that is a noun, for they can always degrade.

Fire burns things I love is a beautiful thing.

“Bing bong” went the door and indulged our interests in having many things like syrup.

I think of songs [that] make me sad about that one day in this room there, blue-azul-rojo like no other ocean [that] has all sorts of the beautiful autumn day.

Songs that are very good habits die hard.

I feel the same as the carrot that is quite ridiculous, sir.

A treacherous life in water comes from my mouth.

Mouth to mouth makes life a beautiful thing.

Body [is] just cyberwire essence of the mind’s thoughts I’m having. Right now is the time for the love of God who never was there.

Sometimes life sucks as much of your knowledge lies!

I dislike the fact that unicorns are scarier than goblins.

I hope you find yourself a new beginning-end-middle era that begins too soon.

Too soon I will be free puppies on my street next to Wal-Mart.

Always will my hair be as big as you plus me equals love.

Last chance to waltz alive on the inside like potato chips and bologna.

Leg hair flowing like goddess divine is a key to success in Halloween costumes.

This morning arrived late today.

The squid thoughts: squishy movement, tanky, tall, buff, skinny, short, but tall enough to look at her sadly.

Tiger Woods’ prose is a true novelty I can’t read.

The wind is messy little kids that ruin the moment by saying things like “ooow weee” all the way home.

Home is where I live like you are never ever deal[ing] in absolutes.

Math is not my strong-suit of my body armor.

Amazing grace, how sweet the trees are saying stuff and things to do what you want whenever.

Click here to see a longer listing.

‘My metaphors are all elephants’: Palate-cleansers for the mind (Part 1 of 2)

Using the “Exquisite Corpse” method described here, my students and I last week made some new texts that have parts that, like these below, are like palate-cleansers for the mind.

Live is just a verb for I was just young.

Bananaless lunches are so horrible, taste of chocolate cake.

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed to be very small world after all.

Mangoes fall from the tree huggers.

My metaphors are all elephants.

Feel like I was hit by a big bus that ran over a person who knows nothing.

This right here is my swag is off.

It really does suck oiling the tires on a flower.

Let’s go swimming with me and you at the movies with mom.

Kill me very slowly please. Help me find my parrot.

Very thrillfully I lunged toward a big house on the left, haunted.

America is the opposite of somewhere over the rainbow.

Money makes me sad like the wind I ran across.

Love can be fake, although peanut butter is delicious.

“Pen” is my pen-name.

Why try to change your ugly face? Please show what you are.

Everyone got annoyed smiling at what no chimpanzee made out of copper.

Today I will wash my words are nonsense banana.

Sky rhymes with words like a fish out of the dead horse.

the McDonald’s parking lot of cats

Violently beat a man to make food right now.

That was not what I was expecting a bakery to have.

Work with what you own, a waffle cone.

Rocks are hard like metal hospital garage roof kittens get eaten by ants.

Piano is the dumbest instrument of your utter demise.

Morons are really dumb. I never knew that. I now know.

I could be anything, all you need. You will fight me now.

Life is like a story gone wrong because of mice and men.

I chose the right egg, Jimmy.

House is a word like a unicorn because yeah.

Tomorrow is the day when I get older.

Now the fighting began because Harold lost his pants.

So now I am your favorite mouse.

Love is a four letter to my lover, Bob.

Stop yourself before you need to stop talking to my wallaby.

How do you spell the world’s longest word of the great man who is also a pig in a pen full of blood?

A longer listing is here. Last semester’s poems made by similar method are here and here.

Poems: Noses smell like other noses (Exquisite Corpse, 2 of 2)

Here are some more lines I took from the Exquisite Corpse poems we, my students and I, made this semester. Minor changes (punctuation, appropriate word endings) were made to improve readability. I know this is a long list, but there were many creations that amused me. I love how poems created somewhat randomly, unintentionally, end up being so wonderfully surprising.

Noses smell like other noses.

Observation: Simple bliss in yogurt is good when frozen yogurt is the best time in Creston ever.

Upon lobsters, I demolished buildings because their water is not tasteful, bland.

Pedestrians are worth ten people in the room for all of us. We don’t speak Klingon.

During the old times of people being themselves, people are liars, liar liar pants on the bottom shelf.

I don’t have a lurking motion towards home.

The quick brown fox jumps into the kitchen sandwich.

In this classroom, rows are blindingly straight, like my peace pipe

Please send that message to me, myself, and I, or be forgotten like the Pythagorean theorem of a dead dog.

Stupid is what stupid was.

Everyone thought they were driving in the car that we all hate.

Heads will roll, for this life is not ordinary folks eating brownies.

Yesterday was today in future tenses.

I will be known to whoever should hold this hammer.

His head is full of stuffed crayfish, red with anger.

Ugly horse can become beautiful barbecue.

Evilness makes me puke where no one stands.

Hippopotamus is a small animal that punches puppies willingly, as a doctor should, dancing under the rain.

Earth can be hardened by not showing off the bees that filled the air when I was a boy.

At Mississippi is a wood chuck who could chuck a peck of peppers skipping through the grass.

This person is one but what is two?

Pink bird, flower, orange you glad I didn’t know her well?

Loving people dearly endure the teasing of antelopes.

Obesity is a big problem like a cat that has to have fingers on its hands.

Puke smells bad and is green; everything green is good.

I’m used to being sly foxes who don’t deserve fish that are very colorful.

You have a huge shoe size, which varies depending on the same level as a level-nine sorcerer making coffee for grandma, and I cried until I couldn’t even think about it.

Cheerios are as tasty as a pear tree in a large cup of the birch tree skies colored blue.

Everyone is real talk, big ears, flying in the blue sky.

Magenta and the young rapper Pink Tree have red bears that are often red sky in the morning.

The 5 of us as humans rule life.

Green leaves in the trees surround me like A, B, C, one, two, three.

It’s impossible to resist the smell of the interesting problems with a genius outside town.

Slowly he saw everything, its big ears flapping on the ground.

Today I ate my own stop sign, drop and roll.

“Up” is a movie about a really slow caboose.

Daylight brings out the bright and shiny new day, when everyone was going to sleep on a sloth.

Go off a cliff and into a sea of cows’ milk and cookies, which are really good to fly away like mosquitoes.