Here is the result from the first exercice, about writing abstract poetry. In advance sorry for potential mistakes, it's translated from French.
An ocean of blandness invades her palace, sublimated by the greenish light shining from the veiled sky. The softness of a non-bread under teeth already tired of chewing, a paste caressing papillae long since already insensitive. Was it meat? No. Vegetables? No, not vegetables either. Molecules, aromas and dyes coming to life under the magic of science. No doubt. Living to eat was long gone. Eating to live was not more true for all. Whoever knows the taste of delicious and the sense of indulgence should raise their hand. Let them share their secret. One who controls the bread controls the people, but one who controls the people chooses the bread. They had chosen blandness, the point of balance between neither bad nor good; neither something to complain about nor something to be amazed of. Oh governance of balance. High-ranking tightrope walker act. Dangerous dance with narrow lines. A mastery won at the price of a hundred years of practice, the reward of which lies in two words: people indifference. No one was asking so many questions. Even less she was.
As revealed at the end, the feeling I chose to describe was indifference/passivity. Hope you enjoy it at least as much as I enjoyed writing it.