The idea is to read the short poem that went before, and respond with one of your own. It can be a continuation, it can be inspired, it can be a rebuttal. Something in poem [or prose-poem] form. It makes good practice, gives poets a chance to show off a few offthecuff ideas without the pressure of a complete poem. I've done this before and sometimes things from this have ended up reworked as whole poems. sometimes not.

I know there are a lot of good poets hanging around here, I hope people join in!
(well I sure as heck don't know where a thing like this would go - I guess word games is the closest? anyway, mods, I appologize if this isn't quite right.)


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i think i found a soul
on the side of the road today, tired and ink-faced,
smudged like bruises that weren't
signs of abuse, not unless you count the torment
of dirty hands against a sleeping brow.
i brought her in

- certainly this soul was a her -
and let her sleep in the backseat with maps
and stolen coats for sale. she slept long and still
is there, curled up in camelhair, picking up the smells
of gas, hamburgers, cats. i will watch her
for however long she sleeps. when she wakes
i guess i'll bring her home, but then what?
give her my bed, let her have her keep in salt and flowers?

I watched the lost soul as she slept
I wondered what secrets she kept
in the distance I heard my minion evil revel
for I was their master I was the devil
by all rights this lost soul was my prize
I am the soulless prince of lies
I collect lost souls and take them to hell
it is my job and I do it well
but this innocent soul is not mine to take
I must let go when when her eyes awake
so what is the devil to do this night
evil must do good tonight

The evil that dwells within your soul
Has cause me to suffer in hell
You plague my mind with insanities
Can't see the beauty of life no more
And you are the one I have to thank for this
So goodbye to you forsaken one
I leave you standing behind closed doors
As I venture off into the unknown
To find a place in which I do belong



Ariella

honestly i don't know what to say to the door you left
by the side of the highway, rooted in weeds

paint-covered, stained and scratched by your pack of wild snow dogs
they are whitebacked, they find every drafty opening

the door is closed. i'm sure it will stay
that way. who would risk stepping through

from gravel, gloss-gray shoulder into some other depth of a world

You say the door is better off that way
closed and you on the other side to me
but what you really long to say is open up and see
that there is a life out here it is just for you and me



ariella

You drawled of highways
long collapsed;
the cars, however, intact-
their tin-foil metal melded
into new aspirations.

Of these three hundred
and twenty-two doors:
which one is my home?
The answer is none.

My door is open
For the exterior only,
Empty your body
Heart, mind and soul
Into the forgotten sea
of unrepeated memory.
Tie down free arms
Bite down the tongue;
Strangle sound until
They too are mute,
Come to me-
Here I am for you.

I hear your offers
I see your doors
I smell your proffers
And touch your floors

But something I
Sense even more
Is my head in the sky
And my wings as they soar.

I'd rather be free.

Like an Eagle soaring to
reach the highest skies
looking down on rocky cathedrals
with blood on my feathers time is still turning they
soon will be dry

All who see me
All who hear me
will fear me for my wings are wide
As I soar down from rocky mountains.