The One Sentence Poem
The Red Wheelbarrow
by William Carlos Williams
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
The New Dog
Linda Pastan
Into the gravity of my life,
the serious ceremonies
of polish and paper
and pen, has come
this manic animal
whose innocent disruptions
make nonsense
of my old simplicities—
as if I needed him
to prove again that after
all the careful planning,
anything can happen.
The Fifteen-Sentence Portrait
This assignment will generate descriptive writing. It is purposefully guided. So, begin by choosing a person to describe. Then follow the directions.
1. Picture in your mind a person you have strong feelings for. The subject may not be a "love" interest, but should be someone you feel strongly about. The person can be living or dead but should be someone you know or knew rather than a famous character.
2. For a title, choose an emotion or a color that represents this person to you. You will not mention the individual’s name in the writing.
3. For a first-line starter, choose one of the following and complete the sentence:
1. You stand there . . .
2. No one is here . . .
3. In this (memory, photograph, dream, etc.), you are . . .
4. I think sometimes . . .
5. The face is . . .
6. We had been . . .
1. Following your first sentence, build a portrait of this individual, writing the sentences according to these directions:
1. Sentence 2: Write a sentence with a color in it.
2. Sentence 3: Write a sentence with a part of the body in it.
3. Sentence 4: Write a sentence with a simile (a comparison using like or as).
4. Sentence 5: Write a sentence of over 25 words.
5. Sentence 6: Write a sentence under 8 words.
6. Sentence 7: Write a sentence with a piece of clothing in it.
7. Sentence 8: Write a sentence with a wish in it.
8. Sentence 9: Write a sentence with an animal in it.
9. Sentence 10: Write a sentence in which three or more words alliterate; that is, they begin with the same initial consonant: she has be left, lately, with less and less time to think . . .
10. Sentence 11: Write a sentence with two commas.
11. Sentence 12: Write a sentence with a smell and a color in it.
12. Sentence 13: Write a sentence with a simile (a comparison using like or as).
13. Sentence 14: Write a sentence that could carry an exclamation point (but do not use the exclamation point).
14. Sentence 15: Write a sentence to end this portrait that uses the word or words you chose for a title.
1. Next, read the portrait. Underline sentences in which you discovered new things about this individual or your feelings and attitudes toward him or her.
2. Now, use this portrait as a starting point for a poem or prose portrait or simply revise what you have. (Be sure to keep a copy of the original, so that you can examine the changes between original and revised piece.) Do anything you need to make this a piece of writing that you like. Choose a new title, use the person’s real name, and so on.
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Montana 1948 Readings/Natalie Goldberg Test 1 "I remember"
Montana 1948 Readings/Natalie Goldberg Test 1 "I remember" Marcy Gamzon • Sep 21 (Edited Sep 21) 100 points Due Tomorrow AGENDA:...
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AGENDA 1, For classwork credit: Read the following two stories by Sandra Cisneros. Then discuss the questions for Barbie-Q with a p...
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AGENDA: 1. Welcome and Introductions Welcome to SOTA's Creative Writing Lab and the Creative Writing program. Welcome video: htt...
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Choose ONE of the following topics and discuss it in a well-developed essay. You may use your book to provide text-based details. Post yo...
Taylor Rugg
ReplyDeleteHer paint-covered fingertips
trace
rain drops that are
racing
while streaking her own
paths
that follow the rain
down.
Cassidy Rose Hammond
ReplyDeletewedding lace
lies on the floor
the white thread creating
misunderstood shapes
weaving yet another
fairy tale ending.
sleepy eyes mingle with
ReplyDeletecold feet
the window only shows
bare trees
and the blue birds
don’t sing
Briyanna Brinkley
ReplyDeleteone sentence
Snug in his arms
clouds moving
with the cool breeze
smell of wildflowers
and his cologne
drifts me off to sleep
here his voice coos
he hands me a nowlater
The candle flame in the pumpkin
ReplyDeleteglowed brightly
Laughing at the wind that tried to blow it
out , feeling courageous and special as it melted
away.
Angela Boyle
ReplyDeleteI heard a crash,
looked over,
and saw
my mother.
Apricot
ReplyDeleteThe face is breaking in your memory
Green with envy as her tears blind with sorrow
Your hard hands strike her as guilty
Your words are as harsh as the roaring sea
It begins with her and it ends as a point where the both if you can’t pick yourselves up and just forgive and forget that she’s left for entirely to be dead
Did you forget when she was alive?
You burn the memories like that old dirty sweater she brought you
She wishes you could see her in truth, but you only see the disgrace
Her face reminds of you a brooding dog, one that begs, but you think
She shouldn’t sell her soul for someone’s sadness
And it’s fueling into your pain, your anger is all you know, can’t just get over it
Your hate smells familiar to her pain, it’s red and it stains
It doesn’t leave a color as strong as your fear
You’re so blind you could only see the lies
That paints the sky good morning.
I was finally free
ReplyDeletesitting on the beach
soaking the sun
with the smell of the ocean
but then I looked over
and there he was
coming for me yet again
Desire Giddens
ReplyDeleteWhen you called
I didn’t answer the phone
because
you disappoint me.
In this picture you are leaning over me.
Your chestnut deer eyes look down in glee.
You lean your big baldhead on me.
I feel my neck burn like your firing a laser.
I can tell that one day I will hate you,
because you don’t care enough to stay
with me because of your own dumb insecurities.
This isn’t about you
Your bright yellow shirt hangs loosely over your thin body.
I wish you’d be here to keep me warm.
You’re too busy trying to bribe me with new puppies.
Don’t dare drag me down
I am, what you would say, wiser then I look
You smell like axe, the kind they say is chocolate.
Personally, I think it smells like gasoline.
I hate how you forget me
just remember, this is just a picture.
Gabriela Julia
ReplyDeleteSimmering on a hot
summer day,
the cold, solid
ice melts
and the condensing
droplets of water
slide down across
your burning palm.
Hannah Klaver
ReplyDeleteOne Sentence Poem
We stood there together,
gazing into the sunset
The weather grew cruel
and blew a gust of wind
It threatened us
with flashes of lightning
Vibrant Yellow
ReplyDeleteWe had been friends for only
a short while but it felt
like we had known each other for
an eternity, endless like
a black hole.
Our minds seemed to connect
when we first met thanks to
a friend who knew us both.
It was like love at first sight
but it was a friendship, not love.
It has been three years now,
I feel as though I know you like
a book, and yet there are still things
about you that I still have
yet to find out.
I hope we remain friends
forever.
You are like an old sweatshirt,
worn down to being very comfortable as in
you are comfortable to be around.
I wish we had been sisters,
though we could be, so we could
see each other everyday.
You are like a monkey,
hilarious and can be clumsy.
We love laughing, living,
listening to music we both love.
We share so much in common,
yet sometimes we seem so far apart,
miles away and struggling
to come back together
You are like a vibrant yellow,
full of life and crazy at times.
When you yodel it drives me crazy,
you are definitely one of a kind.
We got married, not literally,
but in a sense and I’ll never
divorce you.
You have flaws, but so do I,
and that’s what makes you, you.
You are my friend forever,
may we never part.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete15 sentences Briyanna Brinkley
ReplyDeletewe were like best friends
always wearing the same color
always walking together in the park
you were like my teddy bear
safe and always there
we trusted each other and I thought that you would never leave; I thought we be forever and that you’ll never go but you did, your gone
I lost you forever
your Miami dolphin sweatshirt still hung on the chair
I wish you would come back
watch you drift to sea away from me
you, always-got upset cause I hated peas but, you could never be mad for long
your cookies smelled of love with a golden crust
hug me like a teddy bear
R.I.P Uncle Daryll Lee
Cassidy Rose Hammond – 10/1/09
ReplyDeleteperidot drops
you’ll stand there
with your little peridot drops dangling from your ears
I can hear your fingernails tapping on the doorframe
like the sound of high heels click-clack-clacking
or maybe it’s just your feet tap-tap-tapping as you stare at me disapprovingly from the hallway because I’m still not done with my homework or chores.
I’ll do it later, I promise.
but later you’ll put on that black dress
wishing all the while that you were younger and didn’t live here
with the mice and without your family close at hand
doing something so destructive as sitting with your friends
sipping some sort of sinful drink
night, after night, after night
green apple perfume floating in your hair
like the famous movie director who’s got it all, who you wish you were
Oh, if only I could’ve helped you before now!
and as you stand there dreading that I’ll turn out wrong and lazy
I’m dreading the day I get those peridot earrings.
Taylor Rugg
ReplyDeleteFear
No one is here
but the ghost of who you were.
Images of blood red
mixing with the beige sand
threaten my memory.
The snapshot of your
spine curving over the water,
and your head
disappearing under the surface.
Our screams were like sirens,
bouncing off the lake.
One minute you were next to me,
the next you dove off the dock…
then you were floating in a position
I knew just wasn’t right.
I can’t remember if I screamed.
My heart was as heavy as the
cinder block that he hit.
That night,
Pooh Bear kept me company in the crowded room
of tears and strangers.
I buried my face in his stomach
and filled my nose with father-daughter comfort and pull
the faded pink blanket over my legs.
And I pulled your jacket that smelled
like beer and campfire
closer around me
and drank you in.
Angela Rollins
ReplyDeleteA Fork in the Road
The wind
pressed against my cheeks,
pulling my hair
in all directions
while I wondered
in which direction
my path truly should bend,
and in what way
would everything
altar
once I took my first step
into the unknown.
Angela Rollins
ReplyDeleteOur Portrait
In this photo, my chubby face whispers in your ear.
The green coat that has passed between still hangs over my shoulders, before I'd grown to tall.
Your pink lips pull up into a fragile smile.
The rest of the world can wait, because we're frozen with smiles on our childish faces as we watch for forces to pull our faces downward and time to separate us.
Your dark sweatshirt is still keeping your arms warm here.
I wish we could stay like this forever.
You talk about your former cats, and we talk about our future dogs.
We run and rush right through the house,
you need to catch the bus, I need to say goodbye, and sometimes these don't coincide.
Would you just stop locking me out of my own room?
In this photograph, we're the best of friends, and better yet,
we're still smiling like the best of sisters.
Ashley Lawson
ReplyDeleteI come home
to a hectic life,
and my only escape
from this reality,
is through the letters,
and symbols
that my hand guides,
the pen to write.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteEvan Bartter creative writing 9
ReplyDeleteMs.Gamzon First part last
Tears don’t wash away the past
Now I am just waiting to see my father’s reaction
Then they treated me like I wasn’t there
Now I look down seeing everyone in shock
Then not even my friends cared
Now I can’t believe there are anyone here
Then I never had these thoughts
Now my father looks up and try’s to say sorry
Then my father looked into my eyes and showed he didn’t care or want me
Now I tell him he is the reason for this
Then my mother always protected me
Now she is not here to see what is going on
Then my father only told me he was proud when I was good.
Now my father cries wanting me to stop
Then I never thought this would be the only way out
Now I feel the air pushing against me as I fall
The Pale Grass
ReplyDeleteBy Kaisean Roseboro
The leaves dance over
grass
that is pale but
weak
in the strong winds of
October.
When I was young one
ReplyDeleteBy Kaisean Roseboro
No one is here to play, or sit, or laugh but me.
My hand strokes the bar of the swing set.
It is hotter than a stove from where I stand.
It has to be at least over eighty degrees,
I can’t believe the memories I had here,
with just me and my friends hanging out.
When I was a young one.
The broken swing set where
I tore my favorite pants.
And then I wonder over the monkey bars.
I wish I could relive these.
Of when I was a young one.
The dolphin water sprinkler,
Its gone now.
That is before, it was beheaded.
The laughs, the cries, it dries,
Since I was a young one.
The smell of the black tar
That holds so much memories.
It like heaven on earth to me, to us, to them,
When I was a young one.
The tire swing hung
ReplyDeleteall alone from the thickest branch
swaying in the wind
callig my name
asking me to swing
once again.
SPELLING ERROR!!!
ReplyDelete* calling not callig
Here's the one sentence poem, I did it earlier this marking period, but just never posted it:
ReplyDeleteWhile you’re sitting at the bar
I’m wishing on a star
It’s not getting me very far, and
When I’m waiting for a letter
Or maybe just a call
It’ll be just another lonely night in the cold of the fall
Here's the 15 Sentence Poem, Finished & Edited:
Memory
You’re standing there, mesmerized by how much I’ve grown up
In this memory, you are speechless, and stand motionlessly in shock
That single tear rolled down your face
Dark brown eyes look me up and down, as you realize I look just like you
Your shaky hand holds a cigarette anxiously
It seems like it been forever, but it’s only been seven years
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, leaning in to hug me, as I step back
Don’t you dare touch me, liar.
Sometimes, I wish that I hugged you back.
This is what I’ve secretly always wanted, but I’m realizing that I don’t even want to be near you, as my head touches against your navy blue sweater, and you smell like beer and cheap cologne
I pull away from your tight grip, and walk away
I slam the door on my way out, and the moment I felt the bitter cold evening air fill into my lungs, I cry harder than he did, and it’s getting harder to breathe, as if I was suffocating
Do you remember that sound, of the door slamming in your face?
I hope you do. That’s the last you’ll ever hear from me.
You didn’t even come after me.
It’s quite upsetting, that this is the only memory I have left of you.
Temielle Floyd-Fruster October16, 2009
ReplyDeleteCreative writing Ms. Gamzon
1. When the kids told Nia parents about the pregnancy the parents were very surprised and her mom was smiling and when the mom smiles it means she is very upset.
2. I think if Nia were alive Bobby would be happy because without her its like he is lost and he wishes she were here because he really did love her. Life would be much easier and his daughter would have a mother figure in her Life because right now she doesn’t
3. I think if I was going to have a baby at an early age I would not be as brave as Bobby and Nia because I would not be ready to take care of a baby because I am a baby myself. It would be a lot of responsibility
This is just a poem I did when I finished everything:
ReplyDeleteShannon Kalia Mrs. Gamzon
Period ¾ October 20, 2009
The clock is ticking upon the wall
Fingers tap anxiously as the doctors’ stall
Reading over their clipboards, whispering in each other's ear
Diagnosing diseases quietly as I’m struggling to hear
The waiting room’s full of people anticipating the news
I’m sitting here worrying about you
The nurses come and tell me I can visit until eight
Then I have to leave, because it’s getting late
I’m sitting by your bedside, watching you sleep
Listening to the sound of your machine beep
You lay so peacefully, entangled in wires
You’ve been here all week, you must be tired
I touch your hand, and you start to grip
Until a few moments later, when your fingers start to slip
Breathing slows, and you let out a final breath
Still holding your hand, I realize this is death