I'm not sure how popular this will be here, but we did it on another site and it's really funny. Basically, I'll start us off with a theme. The next poster writes a brief poem about the theme (haiku, couplet, quatrain, or just a stanza of free-verse) and posts another theme. And so the thread continues. For instance:
Quote from: ImprovPoet
Theme was "dental floss?
O! torrid lady of flouride mint,
thy livelihood my excrement,
I know your help my patrons need but
I fear I'm often bruised in their greed.
I have few qualls but this is one:
please close me, the box, when you are done.
Next topic: Magic!
And so on, and so forth. So, to start us off, our theme will be...
....Autumn~!
Leaves fall to the ground,
Lost their green in discoloured
Misfortune as the autumn sets in.
The sun becomes weak,
Winds strong,
Breeze cold,
Winter is coming.
Next topic, French Toast.
OUAIS, TOAST!
Avec le beurre, le sucre, la cannelle,
OUAIS, TOAST!
I love toast, especially toast the speaks French.
Oh la la, les memories-
Grandmere, make me that toast again.
OUAIS, TOAST!
I really hope that joke is not lost on anyone.
Next theme: Ignorant people
You guys bug me so.
Yelling out what you dont know.
Kindly shut up please.
:3 Next topic..
Cigars.
~A series of haiku~
I watch him unwrap
the scent blooming from the pack
watch, anticipate
Shk-shk....fwoosh, lit up
bring it to his lips and puff
spirals of smoke thence
the sweet smell lingers
smell it on his fingertips
next day; his clothes, too
Next theme: Anticipation
I don't know how long I can wait,
Is this a game? Played by fate?
There's no telling when this will end,
Or what will be left to prepend.
It kills me to just not know,
It kills me to see you go,
It kills me to stay in this place,
Just waiting again to see your face.
It creeps up upon me,
This torrid feeling of anxiety,
This hatred, each second, it grows and grows,
As time passes by, no one knows
What will happen, what will become
What will be seen, or will be undone
But what I do know, is the end will be great,
It will be worth this torrid wait.
Next Theme: Socks
Fun fact: I recall that the first time I saw you in the chat, Zerrif, someone called you a cock-sock.
Insulating cloth,
Donned freshly from the dryer.
My feet are warm, mmmm...
An unwary step
Ruins my fuzzy feelings:
I got my sock wet. :(
There you are: A tragic duet. "Donned" and "mmmm" count as one syllable, right? I'm pretty sure they do. Next topic: Rain.
Like fire, like loneliness,
do we shy away from rain;
as though the most life-giving thing
in our world, that which fuels everything we do
is suddenly our enemy once it falls.
Perhaps because the world is far larger,
more daunting,
when harder to traverse.
The slowness that comes when water falls
makes us stay home.
But in that bestowed fate
is the most delicious punishment of all:
to need each other for warmth.
To be consigned to huddle into the flesh of another
and never need a reason.
Never; never shy away from falling water.
Strip away your unneeded clothes and dance
in the most delicious mud you can find.
Jump in the rain.
Make love in the rain.
Bathe in it.
Drink it.
Show off your beautiful, glistening body
and let the world make you shine
for everyone to see and covet.
You are delicious in water.
Let us drink you in.
---------------------
Next topic: coming of age
So there he was, it was his day,
No more ridicule, no more to say.
It was no longer a futuristic goal,
It was the present, and it was whole.
But now that he had finally grown up,
He had to drink from a brand new cup,
No longer would we guide him along
No longer would we shield him from harm,
No one to hold his hand as he went,
No one to pick him up, when spent,
For he is a man. And a man must do.
Everything on his own. It's true.
He was responsible. He had his pride.
He would never, ever let that slide.
For now, was his time, and it was in his hands,
And soon, he'd realize, it'd slip through like sand.
Oops. Forgot a next topic.
Next Topic: Tacos.
Was Tacos too hard? Okay fine, here.
Succulent meat, between some grain,
Soft or hard, it's all the same
Topped with lettuce, tomatoes and cheese,
If you say "Tacos", I'll say "Yes Please!"
But please, not that shit, from that place down the street,
That makes my shit feel like liquid meat,
God, oh please, don't get Taco Bell,
Because the owner of it is going straight to hell.
:3
Next Topic: Snow
Snow, snow, gently drifting to the ground,
For when winter comes, snow will come as well,
Snow is the messenger of winter,
From skiing to toboganning to making snowballs.
Snow, snow gently drifting to the ground,
Falling in the form of unique white flakes,
A pure natural blanket,
Sparkling under the sun.
Snow, snow, gently drifting to the ground
Next topic: The Rain
Heavens' whispering -
Warm or iced, soft or thunderous -
Always makes me purr.
Any symbolism
(Cleansing, sadness, joy, relief...)
Shows its hold on us.
Next topic: Why nobody's posting poems.
My mind is blank
I know not
How I may pass the time
Songs and music are down
Humour is a no-go
Poetry while numerous is too far to reach to read
Since love and hate continue to attack
My only option is to turn away
forgetting to write.
Next Topic: Falling in love for the first time.
Oh toenail of pain
you hook inside my poor shoe
why didn't I clip you
I could just as easily throw you away,
but I can't because my head tells me to let you stay.
Light you up, and suck you down.
The putrid smell though can make many frown.
It seems to be my luck that when I try,
to quit this sickness you make that a lie.
I hold that box in my pocket, my security blanket for the stress and issues.
Giving me a moment to think, sigh, or wipe my eye with a tissue.
Is it bad for my health? I can assure you that it is and will continue to be.
For my sanity? My head says something different then my body between you and me.
What is a man?
Is he what he looks like? Is he how he speaks? Is a man his history, his family or his friends?
Is a man a vassal of of potential to rule the world or to be merely a spec of dust floating about the winds of time?
No. A man is what he sees himself as. What he sees himself as becoming and accomplishing with his own drop of sand in the hour glass. A man is only as great as he chooses to be and he is nothing more.
~Rubs her snout in thought since no-one listed a new topic and just decides to pick one.~
The grass is green and the morning is bright,
Oh how daytime welcomes the light.
New life will bloom and new breath is drawn,
All made possible by the illuminating dawn.
The birds fly about, each day flying further.
Do they carry the message of a feathery fuhrer?
Perhaps they only gossip and twitter.
Embellish their stories and add a little glitter.
One way or another, the sun always rises,
And each day is full of new surprises.
Next Topic: Memories of Better Days
I am as different
As different can be
Why would you ever
Try to be like me?