Rules:
1. Obey XS rules
2. One entry per person
Your task is to re-write this poem and follow the basic writing structure as the original author wrote it in. (e.g. Same number of lines, paragraphs, about the same # of syllables per line, etc)
Submission deadline: Thursday, January 11th
Have Fun!
Any questions, feel free to ask and I'll clarify them.
QUOTE
He was a big man, says the size of his shoes
On a pile of broken dishes by the house;
A tall man too, says the length of the bed
In an upstairs room; and a good, God-fearing man,
Says the Bible with a broken back
On the floor below a window, bright with sun;
But not a man for farming, say the fields
Cluttered on boulders and a leaky barn.
A woman lived with him, says the bedroom wall
Papered with lilacs and the kitchen shelves
Covered with oilcloth. and they had a child
Says the sandbox made from a tractor tire.
Money was scarce, says the jars of plum preserves
And canned tomatoes sealed in the cellar-hole.
And the winters cold, say the rags in the window-frames.
It was lonely here, says the narrow country road.
Something went wrong, says the empty house
In the weed-choked yard. Stones in the fields
Say he was not a farmer; the still-sealed jars
In the cellar say she left in a nervous haste
And the child? Its toys were strewn in the yard
Like branches after a storm - a rubber cow,
A rusty tractor and a broken plow,
A doll in overalls. Something went wrong, they say.
I only got two stanzas, but whatever.
QUOTE
He was a messy person, says all the clutter
scattered around his room. Smart person too,
says the piles of electronics all over.
Listens to music, says the big stereo.
Probably walks alot as well,
says the worn out shoes with a hole in them.
Very forgetful, says the tv still running.
He had a brother, says the room across the hall.
Cluttered with junk, like a typical teenager.
Random signs and posters on the wall.
Reads alot, says all the books, probably quiet.
Big view of a pool outiside from the window
which is cluttered with memorabilia.
Like his brother, he must be forgetful
Says the unmade bed and clothes everywhere.
[Third Stanza]
Like I said before, I hope I didn't stray too much. Well, here's mine:
QUOTE
She was lost, going by the bottle of pills,
A mound of white mush forming at her mouth,
A young girl as told by her acne-clad face,
A faithless girl, a Bible covered in dust,
Crisp new pages read by none last eve,
Behind a closed door under a dark March sun,
Not a girl of beauty say the mirrors,
Nor the photographs absent from the scene.
A visitor in this house this girl was not,
As told by the depression in the bed,
Glistening in the morning sun, blind eyes
Says the empty stare with no trace of life,
Money was plentiful, say the bands of gold,
On her fingers and bloated wallet with bills,
With friends abound, proof not in pictures but in letters,
Lonesome she was not, nor warm nor cold, just a shell.
Her plan worked well says the lifeless corpse,
On the cold tile floor, a day before,
Although she was quite kind, she was lost inside,
Broken from banality say the hardened tears,
That ran down her temple and in her ears,
Now the matter of finding the body,
The friends, the family will all soon know,
And in the end, it all worked according to plan.