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This may be old hat, but I’m proposing a site for collaborative poetry where each contributor finishes the latest writer’s verses and adds unfinished verses of his/her own. The added stanza would have about four lines with the last word on each line missing. The poetry would not have to rhyme, and the
unfinished poetry need not be original though the result (+ 1 word/verse) should be. If two happen to annotate the same stanza, then the next contributor could choose to build on either one.
For example, if the latest contribution ended with:
Without ___
as a ___
swoops on an ___
Love shakes my ___
The next might be:
Without sound
as a hound
swoops on an innocent
Love shakes my tent
There was a young lady from ___
Who had a small problem with ___.
Whenever it ___,
She had to go ___,
And ever since then she’s been___.
Exquisite Corpse
http://www.cybersta...n-mike/history.html
Baked since at least the 1920s, by some artsy-fartsy French people . You can probably do it online someplace. [rmutt, Jul 24 2002, last modified Oct 21 2004]
Online Esquisite Corpse
http://bluestem.hor...edu/ecs/default.htm
Dang looks like someone beat me to implementing this [beretboy, Jul 28 2002, last modified Oct 21 2004]
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Annotation:
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FarmerJohn
in my hovel
I enjoy your bacon
When you were gone
a collaborative novel
we were makin'
The 'bakery
was crashin'
no fakery
no trashin'
Seems the story
written with a fervor
got so gory
it crashed the server |
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This idea has a certain Pam Ayres quality. |
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This inspires horrid visions of Match Game '74 and Nipsy Russell. |
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What, all this because I trashed a Sappho poem? |
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Oh, I wish I'd looked after me brain,
And spotted the perils an' pain,
All the thinkin' I thought,
And the sweet sticky rot,
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me brain. |
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Half-Baked: Mad Libs? Magnetic Poetry (often applied on the "fridge," altered or finished by next reader) Of course if you are expecting "high brow" poetry worthy on literary merit alone, then somewhat new if via the internet |
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Mushrooms
Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly
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Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.
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Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.
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Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,
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Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams
Earless and eyeless,
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Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. we
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Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking
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Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!
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We are shelves, we are
Tables, we are meek,
We are edible,
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Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:
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We shall by morning
Inherit the earth
Our foot's in the door.
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all credit to Sylvia Plath (1932 - 1963) |
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I like punch,
I like pie,
I really wish,
I could fly. |
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Just want someone to play online esquiste corpse with
me... see the link... |
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http://bluestem.hort.purdue.edu/ecs/default.htm |
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It's unfortunate that the link is dead. But there appear to be other online exquisite corpse tools now. |
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