Post by Lisa Vicious on May 19, 2006 19:10:48 GMT -5
Alright, some of you have asked me for advice, some of you would like to write but feel you can't etc... so, every so often I'm going to post some exercises for us to do. Hopefully we can all benefit from it and share what we've learned.
Exercise #1: The Basics
This is a a piece I wrote back in highschool (we're talking well over 10 years ago), clearly it is HIGHSCHOOL POETRY at it's worse. Pick it apart...and rewrite it but keep the context of what it is about.
By doing this it will teach you how to "re-read" poems, use alternate ways of saying the same thing, and you will see clearly how your design of thoughts are uniquely different from everyone else. I encourage everyone to do this and post their rewrites and explain why you "corrected" my poem.
Backseat Babydoll
She’s so allusive
Modest at most
She’s my backseat babydoll
Driving down my emotional coast.
With her lipstick a mess
And her Jackie O. shades
She’ll make me speed on command
Then slam on my brakes.
She’s convinced her trust is a joke
Her ambitions are high
And so are the stakes and I’m
self-conscious
About the moves she makes.
Backseat babydoll she’s always around
Then she disappears in the bar smoke
Without a sound.
Exercise #1: The Basics
This is a a piece I wrote back in highschool (we're talking well over 10 years ago), clearly it is HIGHSCHOOL POETRY at it's worse. Pick it apart...and rewrite it but keep the context of what it is about.
By doing this it will teach you how to "re-read" poems, use alternate ways of saying the same thing, and you will see clearly how your design of thoughts are uniquely different from everyone else. I encourage everyone to do this and post their rewrites and explain why you "corrected" my poem.
Backseat Babydoll
She’s so allusive
Modest at most
She’s my backseat babydoll
Driving down my emotional coast.
With her lipstick a mess
And her Jackie O. shades
She’ll make me speed on command
Then slam on my brakes.
She’s convinced her trust is a joke
Her ambitions are high
And so are the stakes and I’m
self-conscious
About the moves she makes.
Backseat babydoll she’s always around
Then she disappears in the bar smoke
Without a sound.
