a few weeks ago, at the poetry/spoken words group for vintage, we all took poems that were written differently than something we would have written ourselves. we attempted to copy their style with our own original piece. mine (exercise) was a poem but i seemed to have forgotten who it was by. anyways, i tried it again, this time on my own. i used edna st. vincent millay's "collected sonnets" as a starting place for this newest piece.
here upon the feet of its vast shore
set on a complexion of green and brown
hiding its dirty skin to be seen no more
its torso wrapped in water yet its head to never drown
stood a man with his head in florescent clouds
his mind engulfed in a sea of mist
waiting to hear the soft sweet sounds
of release while he clenched his fists
the wind blew strong against his back
shaking his knees and cooling his breath
his eyes met the horizon on this culdesac
as the mountain pushed him close to his death
though the earth may shake and poseidons breath blow strong
his release must wait, may it not be too long
posted by jon havens
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