Pens and Quills Writing Society

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    Symbolic Poetry

    President
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    Number of posts : 61
    Age : 31
    Location : In my newest novel-
    Registration date : 2009-02-14
    • Post n°1

    Symbolic Poetry Empty Symbolic Poetry

    Post  President February 16th 2009, 8:29 pm

    I've been dying to try this out... But we haven't had a meeting since the first week back from Christmas break. Well, I guess last week, but I wasn't there, so that doesn't count for me. Were any activities accomplished? Anyway... Let's try this idea out, since we seem to be having an "open house" next meeting and this probably isn't the best idea to try then.

    So pick an object... Any object... Well, truthfully it just needs to be a person, place, or thing... As a matter of fact, it can probably be intangible. Whatever. Pick SOMETHING.

    Now, find something else that symbolizes the item that you picked. Say you picked "Death" then you could choose "Night" as the symbol.

    With the symbol, compose a poem about the item, but only write about it symbolically. So in your poem about Death, you'd only be talking about Night.

    Does this make sense?

    And when you're done writing, we can try to analyze it (Not Mrs. Rutland's analysis) and figure out what your poem was about.

    Okay?
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    i<3edwardcullen
    i<3edwardcullen
    i<3edwardcullen


    Number of posts : 50
    Age : 32
    Location : In real life, in my head, in the clouds, I might be dead
    Humor : The difference between truth and fiction is that fiction has to make sense.
    Registration date : 2009-02-14
    • Post n°2

    Symbolic Poetry Empty Re: Symbolic Poetry

    Post  i<3edwardcullen February 16th 2009, 10:25 pm

    The flame still held after several years,
    Despite the onslaught of wind and tears.
    'Twas not the faith that held it so,
    But remembered feelings of long ago.
    The wax had melted down to wick,
    And wick had burned the candlestick.
    The tears had splattered and flickered the flame,
    Coming close, but not only to blame.
    Oh! why did it have to end, in wind?
    The battering force that no one could send?
    The wind had pushed and molded the wax,
    Twisting the form 'till it couldn't go back.
    The wax had resisted until that day,
    When wind and tears had gone away.
    And nothing was left, save the silence,
    A peace that no flame had ever known,
    Wrenching at the candle, and its sense,
    And then disappeared with breath blown.
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