first_poem klarchen This is the first so-called "poem" that I ever wrote. I was ten and it was for writing class. My teacher said that it wasn't a poem, that it was just a poor attempt at one. She told me to throw it away and write another one that rhymed. I found it the other day in a box. Come Play I lay here in bed, listening to the tree just outside my window. It is a big tree with many branches that like to scratch at my window. It is telling me to come ouside to play, today. I told the tree that I couldn't come outside to play because it was time for me to go to sleep. Tommorow I will play. Tommorow has now come and gone. Someone cut the tree down. So the tree is dead, now I have to go to bed. 000802 ... kaskarkaminski poor envious teacher 000802 ... kaskarkaminski My first poem was written in the fifth grade and was about someone losing their false teeth. Imagine my surprise when the teacher's pet stood up before me and read my poem as hers. I looked under my desk, yes it was gone all right. She had taken it. How did she know i wootn't say anything? 000802 ... sabbie i made up my first poem during a car ride. i was about 3 at the time, and i had to ask my mum to write it down because i couldnt. it was about bubble baths, and went thusly: bubbles bubbles everywhere in the bath and in my hair i was so proud of it. i still remember the look of it on the piece of paper in my mums handwriting. she wrote in in my big brothers green texta. 001211 ... phil A person's first poem- by that person Once I had a little brick a cool smooth kind of brick but then one day my brick started acting like a prick to I threw it int he crick stupid brick (roughly) 020502 ... phil So I threw him in the crik (should've checked) 020502 ... blown cherry smiling fist over heart, bold of stride, gaze to the heavens, unwavering smoke in your eyes (this is the first poem I've ever read by my best friend, I think it's about me :) 020502 ... ClairE I think this is the first poem I ever wrote, barring the one about explosions on the moon from second_grade. It could have been exactly five years ago today. 981027. She is wonderful. Nice smile, her pretty brown hair pulled back. Her eyes shine and I see her high cheekbones with a smidgen of freckles scattered through her blush. Intelligent, pretty, scintillating girl. Isn't it interesting how Freud can be so wrong and obsession can have nothing to do with sex? 031027 ... sabbie bubbles bubbles everywhere in the bath and in your hair it was when i was about 3 031027 ... a thimble in time hey ClairE, I so rarely read efflorescent love poetry, and here you've recorded it all for us. Thank you. 031027 ... sabbie ok, so it was three years between entries. a girl is aloowed to forget a blathe or two occasionally, isn't she? and if i tell the same story twice, then it's less likely to be a lie, isn't it. sheesh... i really gotta to remember to read every blathe before adding to it... 031027 ... pipedream i dont remember my first first poem, but 'writer's block' was the poem that really got me started with poetry for real...shall post it later, i dont have it right now. 031027 ... Death of a Rose In a fit of self hatred I burned the book that contained all of the attempts at threading words into prisms. I do remember one of my favorites though (not by me). Love, I make a silence out of your name, and dip my hands into it. 031028 ... icy my 'real' first poem was written as i thought poetry should be written - high words, flowing and wispy, with something slightly concrete, and most of it inexplicable, holding true meaning only for the person who wrote it... if i even bother to read it today, i am slightly embarrassed and think how awful it is. all of my poems now come from everywhere and anywhere, anytime, anyplace, from joy and sorrow, from rapture and despair. they may not be 'good' to other people, but they are true to me. 031028 ... misstree yay icy. :) 031028 ... once again my first poem was called sunset. I was eleven i believe. The sun it sinks behind my field every night at eight. I see the pink hues and the blues flowing across the sky, like a river. I feel the sorrow of the sun as it sinks behind the hills. Then I see the moon's smiling face and I am filled with joy. 031028 ... User24 that's actually really nice, once again. me liketh it. 031028 ... oldephebe something my twin sister wrote..i think we were 11 at the time.. 031028 ... oldephebe oh wait the question is not what was my first favorite poem..it was what was your first poem?..okay..it was this viscuos stream of overt sentimentality..tepid and sacharine..one syllable and you were in danger of courting spiritual diabetes..horibble..really..i still can't really consciously write a poem per se..just these "glittering dead breaths" ... 031028 ... pipedream glittering_dead_breaths *is* a gorgeous blather (ogreous hahaha)..but that was good, fella above U24, i've forgotten who is was and i cant bother going back just now :D 031028 ... falling_alone my first (real?) poem (in the 8th grade) really sucked becuase i thought it had to be religious...sigh: A fire is burning, Deep within my soul. The fire is yearning, To feel God’s love. The fire is weakening, Yet I still feel Want. The fire within me, Is about to burn out. But when it does, I will be with God, And a new fire will aflame, A thousand times brighter. i like to think ive gotten better since then (hopefully)... 031104 ... Freak I remember being in elementary school and sitting byself at daycare and writing poem after poem. That day I decided to write one about each person in my family. I was just writing when all of a sudden the daycare teacher came up, grabbed the papers from me and started reading them. I didn't want her to read them but she did anyway. After reading them she laughed and walked off. It took me years before I ever decided to write again. 031104 ... celestias shadow Does the moon get lonely up in the sky With nothing but clouds to talk to? Does it envy the sun's gold radiance Against it's cold, bright, wintery glow? Does it sigh at its reflection, Another moon buried deep within the glassy lake As the dawn fast approaches, does it whipser 'Farewell' To the gentle night wind and the brightening sky? That's not verbatim, and also not the first poem i ever wrote, but it's the only one I can recall quite well off the top of my head. I think I practically got it word for word, actually. You know what? Don't criticize my poem....I know it sucks, but I wrote it in fifth grade/fourth grade??? i can't remember??? and I was quite fond of adjectives, ok? rawrrr 031120 ... oldephebe glittering_dead_breaths reminds me of something by sylvia plath.. her images come at you like storm.. lavender sky and lightening swathed in ivory and bone dark wonder and cauldron mist of open mouthed kisses and blood and spatter..and i take her every word deep into my oceans floor bottom black heart holy matron cursed by her torment.. the scarlet stripe of father forget me nots out damned spot and do you see the red embered eyes behind the mid-western masquerade.. she seems to be saying can you touch my torment without looking away.. without wilting under its scarlet kisses? and oh she seems to whisper to unwind an absolute fury of posiedons breaths and splinter thick cords of oak..tearing down these ramparts like so much tissue to visit this wrath upon my own perfect flesh (she seems to say) the scalding path of memory and memories yet unborn and the faintly painted thoughts that caper in my attic.. now roar out and off the page full, completly formed like an ogre tearing through the womb and father showing his silent contempt and no one proffered a splint for her red fountain soul to look into his eyes is to see the clarity of coldness as it curdles every every..aspiration to transcend her glittering dead breaths I'm over come by deep awe every time holding her writhing shadow in the tomb of my ears in the flesh cave of my mouth her broken bone beauty takes me up again and again ... 031120 ... User24 is on here somewhere quite far down my list. 040802 ... kookaburra this probably isnt the first one, but it might be close to it: A Star Is Born a star that's new is blue a star that's yellow likes to bellow next comes the red giant star, and from the yellow stage it's very far then comes the white dwarf, sometimes it goes "bwarf" now it dies, say goodbye! by me, grade 1 yea, well you try rhyming dwarf? 040802 ... estarocks morph!!!!!!! 040802 ... oldephebe that's pretty precocious for a grade 1ner and bwarf really not such a bad wordmerge...'cause it could mean like a dwarf barfing or an inexpressable state embarassment or whatever ironic and tortured and "x"alted state you might find yourself in, in these times... ... 040802 ... oE *bwarf!* See? Just think of the possibilities. 040802 ... estarocks into a yellow dwarf a star will morph 040804 ... spiffy mine was most likely about cats. 040804 what's it to you? who go blather from