scribbler

Feb 08, 2012

This poem is part of the workshop:

Working With Titles

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Description: Working With Titles

In this exercise, each participant is to write a list 5 titles for a poem and post them here. After you've written your list of titles, pick the one you want as a title for your poem, then choose 4 of other people's suggestions to incorporate in your poem.

All poems should be posted to the "Working With Titles" workshop.

This is a fun way to sharpen your skill with titles. It will also get those creative juices flowing with flexibility in your content.
Director: Jess Tapper
Leader: Barbara Writes
Moderator(s): Scribbler, Bonitaj, Candlewitch,

Objectives: The objective is to practice finding the proper title for your poem. A title that will draw people to read your poem. This exercise is designed to make coming up with titles easier, less painstaking and stretch your flexibility.

Level of expertise: Open to all

Subject matter: Creating titles from a list of ideas. Using all or some of the titles in your list for lines and verses in your poem.

We will start with a discussion on the importance of titles

Master Title List

Chrys:
Silent Affirmation
Midnight Ride
Ancient DreamsV
Frozen In Time
Straight From Your Pen

Wesley:
"The poet knows no more than you and I."
"Sé ágenspræc léþwyrhta broc canne ne beanleag æræt æfterield."
("The language poets use can't grow too old.")
"Once more into the Black Hole."H
"Excuse me, I thought you could write."
"Out of the fire and into the nuclear facility dangerously cTlose to meltdown."

Bonitaj:
Full catastrophe living
Touched
Why love matters
Replete
Capricious longing

Scribbler:
The Day The Poets Died
When The Ink Stops Flowing
Who Shall Speak The Truth
Don’t Look At The Sun
The Sound Of Pages Turning

Mark:
Ore Locked
In the Wake
When I fall
Water Circus
Clams Served

Tired_goat
I wish I was more like James Dean
Push-Ups
Deer Shooting
Sometimes I Forget Their Names and Get Them All Confused
Reflection (8 Months Late)

Barbara:
Where the wind blows
Changing of the winds
Rare gold
Fetal position
Wandering minds

This workshop is closed.

THE DAY THE POETS DIED

I heard the sound of pages turning
from writers' alcoves everywhere
where the dim night lights were burning
and poets laid their deep souls bare.

Then there came that final day
when verse and music both were done.
Had bards not heard their parents say
be sure to not look in the sun?

That fierce light burned their muse to cinders
and dried the ink within their quill
regardless of their age or genders
without vision they'd lost their will.

No more poems of nature's beauty
no more describing stars above
no writes of those who died for duty
no heart felt words about true love.

I still recall that final sunset
and how all the people cried
filled with sorrows and regret
on that day the poets died.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: South Carolina, United States, USA

Favorite Poets: Frost

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Comments

Love this

"The day the poets died" is a perfect title befitting your well written poem. Reading was a joy, right to the very end, then I got the quivers brcause If the sun like an eclipse of the light in the minds eye of a poet blind the ability to create great poetry like this one, would indeed be a sad day.

hi Barb

Hesitated psting this because wes beat me to it , but he used the singular poet. Kinda shows how even 1 letter difference in a title can lead to such different poems I guess.............stan

I certainly glad you used it

The idea of all poets died really stand out. Brilliant poetry

Scribbler!

A brilliant rendition of using the title to a good end!
How well you've captured the theme in this particular verse:
"That fierce light burned their muse to cinders
and dried the ink within their quill
regardless of their age or genders
without vision they'd lost their will"

BRAVO