West Trestle Review
  • Home
  • Current Issue
  • Past Issues
    • January 2021
    • November 2020
    • September 2020
    • July 2020
  • Cross-Ties
  • About
  • Masthead
  • Submit
  • Arrivals & Departures
  • Archive

Cross-Ties
Poets :: writers :: ArtistS
Celebrate each other 

The Ekphrastic Exquisite Corpse Challenge

4/15/2015

47 Comments

 
Picture
Tanya Dawn via Compfight cc
Join the West Trestle Review community to create one grand ekphrastic poem! 

How it works: Come up with one line of poetry about the artwork above, and enter it in the comment section below. You have until April 29th. On April 30th, the exquisite corpse will appear cobbled together out of the darlings posted here, so be sure to check back! Each line will link back to your very own personal web page, if you have one. 

Who can play: The challenge is open to all those who identify as women regardless of geographical location. 


Ready, set: Poem!
47 Comments
Rebecca
4/15/2015 01:22:53 pm

Who will water the garden

Reply
Katy Brown
4/16/2015 09:53:47 am

now that we've left the crumbling world behind

Reply
HB
4/15/2015 01:50:26 pm

Those days, we were always so

Reply
Ivy link
4/15/2015 02:10:48 pm

behind, the house, the horses stumble

Reply
Connie Post link
4/15/2015 02:33:21 pm

Each crow flew away from the power lines once the last house was removed.

Reply
Kierstin Bridger link
4/15/2015 03:28:46 pm

I'm pickets on the go, I'm yards and yards from home.

Reply
Charity Parrott
4/15/2015 08:44:00 pm

Home today, gone tomorrow.

Reply
Jeanine Stevens
4/15/2015 11:55:40 pm

When I was 12, my parents remembering Ibsen, sold my dollhouse and said "Now you have to make one of your own.'

Reply
Annie Stenzel link
4/16/2015 12:43:35 am

each unchosen side road mute

Reply
Tanya Greer
4/16/2015 01:11:10 am

I saw my dream fade into the storm brewing on the horizon.

Reply
Cati Porter link
4/16/2015 03:26:11 am

Birthing the house halted at the crossroads where electric lines dissect the storm.

Reply
Cati Porter link
4/16/2015 03:26:23 am

Birthing the house halted at the crossroads where electric lines dissect the storm.

Reply
Julia Park Tracey link
4/16/2015 09:30:58 am

fine-veined marble, green as my daughter's eyes

Reply
I thought I left home yet where ever I go, it follows me.
4/16/2015 03:08:28 pm

Reply
Liz Tynes Netto
4/17/2015 03:56:49 am

I never missed that yellow, and I was never sorry.

Reply
Emma Schmitz link
4/17/2015 04:24:50 am

Power lines bend into catenaries reaching to catch and fling back time

Reply
Anna Marie
4/17/2015 06:49:47 am

We time traveled back to buttered toast and coffee as the moon would soon be rising on the horizon... I never regretted saying goodnight to the sun

Reply
Ann Privateer
4/17/2015 09:14:58 pm

Caught being small between the poles

Reply
Meryl Natchez link
4/18/2015 01:04:41 am

the road leads only to clouds

Reply
Lynne Thompson
4/18/2015 05:14:15 am

All I knew was underground: bodies piled on bodies.

Reply
janet trenchard
4/18/2015 09:45:02 am

cut in half and frost both sides….

Reply
Casey Gardner link
4/18/2015 01:14:34 pm

I will paint the walls of this cellar as if it was still the foundation for a home.

Reply
Jeanette Nicole
4/19/2015 07:27:32 am

The house, is coming with me!

Reply
Alice Anderson
4/19/2015 07:31:28 am

Every mile we cross (windows clattering in echo of loose gravel on the road) the intersection of possibility and nevermore.

Reply
Roz Levine
4/19/2015 08:30:18 am

We're on the run from power lines of of big city vultures.

Reply
Deb Jensen
4/20/2015 02:21:01 am

The heavyset woman with frail orange hair talked too loud.

Reply
Suzanne O'Connell link
4/20/2015 03:13:11 am

For me, the red light meant go.

Reply
Karen Terrey link
4/20/2015 08:33:46 am

a crossroads of home and sky

Reply
P D Weddington
4/20/2015 09:35:35 am

My smallest dreams are golden

Reply
Allie Batts link
4/20/2015 11:20:18 am

Knit together stormclouds over our roving home

Reply
Raina Leon link
4/20/2015 01:56:12 pm

No need for church with spirit in cloud and electrified cross

Reply
L. A. Jones
4/20/2015 02:27:05 pm

her body was a house, her feet were wheels, but the mind
was sky

Reply
Mary Pacifico Curtis link
4/21/2015 03:34:05 am

Home was a pause in the empty intersection under light-rumbled skies.

Reply
Carlena Wike
4/21/2015 06:34:01 am

I told him I wanted the house and he said "Fine, take it!"

Reply
Wendy Esterás
4/22/2015 01:59:55 am

seen through the upside-down U of her dutch-door view

Reply
mary
4/22/2015 11:37:07 pm

the sifted stones of a failed foundation fall, fall on the road i leave behind

Reply
Devon Moore link
4/25/2015 07:04:48 am

In this parallax, we assume departure. Come back white door. Come back yellow light.

Reply
Pamela Murray Winters
4/25/2015 07:08:16 am

If it doesn't come to me, I take my house to the light.

Reply
Lindsey Lewis Smithson link
4/25/2015 07:26:33 am

Orange evening life, always on the move

Reply
Donna Vorreyer link
4/25/2015 11:26:37 am

A gold-toned mom and pop whistlestop

Reply
Minal Hajratwala link
4/25/2015 11:40:35 am

Who has set this humble door of gold to shimmer between road dust and storm cloud?

Reply
EKSwitaj link
4/25/2015 11:53:56 am

the road will shatter underneath our open windows

Reply
Yu-Han Chao link
4/25/2015 12:16:59 pm

clouds to clouds, dust to dust

Reply
Shikha Malaviya link
4/25/2015 03:13:43 pm

It's hard to open the door of a moving house

Reply
Ellen Kombiyil link
4/25/2015 10:09:50 pm

shuttered against the oncoming storm

Reply
Amanda Chiado link
4/28/2015 03:06:12 am

the door is small and fleeting, but the heart behind it, storms toward a newer season

Reply
Jessica Lindsley link
4/28/2015 11:43:15 am

i shimmied through town on my house on wheels and right through it into the hills past the crossroads

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    RSS Feed

    Tweets by westtrestle
Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.