Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.
This shows the poems in just this one workshop. To see all the poems on Neopoet, go to the stream. Or go to the workshop page itself, where you can find out more about the syllabus.
Say it’s June
and you decide
to go for a walk.
Say the weather
is perfect
so you plan
a long walk
to downtown
or uptown
or to the library
or to the bookstore
or to the
Asian market miles away.
As you set out
you ask yourself
can you
walk far enough
to walk
Mistah Kurtz—he dead.
A penny for the Old Guy
I
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
To the solemn sea the old women come
With their shawls knotted around their necks
With their fragile feet cracking.
They sit down alone on the shore
Without moving their eyes or their hands
Without changing the clouds or the silence.
The obscene sea breaks and claws
Rushes downhill trumpeting
Shakes its bull's beard.
The gentle old ladies seated
As if in a transparent boat
They look at the terrorist waves.
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.
Women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
workshop test