The Little Red Book

[Endless exhalations of toxic mood rings
That stretch and drift,
Twist and die.
Enveloped in a darkness
That never delivers;
Not even a shadow.]

That was just pure magic..I liked toxic mood rings a lot!! I don't think I have any suggestions for that one.

 

Thanks to everybody who has taken the time to comment recently. KittenX and Skyfire, I'm checking in on your threads in impatient anticipation.

 

and when will you be posting someting new??!

 

I miss your posts. Put up some more stuff

 

ok stagnant pool...maybe this will get you stirred to write something! try this metaphor exercise: (write these freely now, dont think too hard about it!) for the 1st line, write an abstraction, a verb, and a place. for the 2nd line, describe attire. for the 3rd line, summarize an action.

my examples:

Lust dances down the alleys
sporting lace stockings,
flagging down cars.

Fear whispers in the jail cell
tied in white robes,
weaving gossamer webs.

Silence wafts through the clock tower
dressed in candle smoke,
trailing dust.

if you find that works, ask me about more...or research different writing exercises online. do you keep a writing journal?

 

working class whiner, lol, good stuff

 

I see you haven't found that muse again. hmmm... I did love Escape. I also like Skyfires metaphor exercise...

sometimes... you have to become someone (or something) else and write through their eyes.

i'll post one for you here soon and dedicate it to your muse... an incantation to call it back to you.

 

One Night Stand

I awoke,
Adrift amongst scattered memories
And hastily removed clothes.

Shards of Sunday morning
Pierced Venetians.
My mind melted,
Dripping like ice-cream on a summer's day,
A sticky mess.

Rising
From beneath crumpled sheets,
Her bloodshot eyes
Asked questions that remained unvoiced,
Launched like distress flares
From a sinking ship.

But I'm no hero.
I'm a bearded drunken pirate,
Remorseless,
Blessed with a grease-pole conscience.

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OK, this is in need of a lot more work. I'd hardly even call it a poem. It's just sort of an idea at the moment. Any criticism or suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

 

red you wrote something! yay! ok...i like the concept here and your images are really good, can i make some suggestions? i would just rearrange some of the verses in the stanzas and cut the abstractions and unneccessary words:

I awoke,
amongst memories scattered
hastily as removed clothes.

Shards of Sunday morning
Pierced Venetians.
My mind melted,
ice-cream dripping on a summer's day,
A sticky mess.

Rising
From crumpled sheets,
Her bloodshot eyes
Launched questions like distress flares
From a sinking ship.

But I'm no hero.
I'm a bearded drunken pirate,
Blessed with a grease-pole conscience.


sorry, i didnt mean to like rewrite your poem...i think the idea of her as a sinking ship and you not going to save her (not only because of lack of will but also the inability to pull yourself together) is great. i cut the word "remorseless" in the last stanza because i think that comes across with the "grease-pole conscience."

anyway, i'm glad to see you posting again...keep 'em coming!

 

Nice! I kind of liked the word "beneath" in front of crumpled sheets... I different visual altogether when beneath the crumpled sheets. I would have taken the first word "Rising" off instead...I also liked the "s" sounds when you leave the word remorseless in... blessed, grease... it pulls the "s" sounds forward...

My fav. is shards of Sunday morning/Pierced venetians. I'll post something here soon, is it Tuesday already!

 

Well Sky and Vetty, I can't thank you guys enough. Skyfire, your writing exercises from a while back did produce a lot of ideas, one of which has inspired a short story I'm now working on. And Vetty, your prodding last week actually finally moved me to try to put something together,

I don't really like this poem at all, to be honest, but I will be posting a re-worked version some time this week. The image/idea I want to develop a little more is the ship/pirate theme.

Anyway, thanks again you guys.
Peace,
A.

 

hey no prob! glad to be of service! i cant stand it when i dont know what to write or where to start, i feel a little off kilter in those times (i was born to write! haha). my writing exercises usually dont turn up anything concrete, but they get the ideas flowing and that is the most important part. i'm anxious to read this short story you've started...hopefully you will post it when it's done. hit me up if you ever get stuck again, i have exercises for days!

 

Hooligan

Egos burn in crowds of
Incendiary slogans
And football colours.

All it takes is a match.

We are red!
We are white!
We are fucking dynamite!
Un-i-ted!
Un-i-ted!

The staccato hypnosis
Brings metamorphosis.
I am no longer me,
When I become we.
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Hey guys, I may try to lengthen this a little over time. It's a lttle short, but at least I'm writing again.

All criticisms/comments greatly appreciated as always. Don't forget, sometimes you got to be cruel to be kind.

 

• Liked the element of "heat" in this: burn, incendiary (which brings to mind incite), match, dynamite
• title Hooligans is perfect, at first thought it was a negative connotation but realized that a crowd can definitely go quickly to destructive as we have seen when a crowd rushes a field - picturing this strengthens the "match" word you used
• I like pulling out the "I" in united the way you do as part of the cheer and how it contrasts with the "me/we" at the end where the person removes responsibilities for their actions.
• The use of Red/White colors is good here... brings to mind British/Native American conflicts: Red Coats, red faces, white skin, British... Also fits traditional for Football (Redskins vs. Cowboys)...
• Title of Hooligan (singular) vs. Hooligans (plural) - I wondered if this was on purpose... it adds to the me/we the individual/crowd study you have going here... Either title would work, but singular points out the responsibility of the individual here...

Cruel? You wanted cruel, but I couldn't find anything to be cruel about... this is a good solid poem. I would be curious to know if any of the comments above are a suprise to you. We have so much going on in our subconcious that someone else's perspective can highlight something we didn't even realize we did! haha!

I don't think it necessarily has to be longer... the only suggestion I could make is that I wanted it to have something more between the cheer (the last "Un-i-ted") and the next stanza that helped move the the cheering crowd to the angry Hooligans... some kind of transforming element here... something that lit the match... perhaps more staccato sounding words to keep the cheer flowing... the cheer turns somehow, something unexpectadly nasty... a thrown bottle, something physical... spittal in the eye, a thrown punch?? Not sure. I really like the last two lines so don't lose those there.

If you add some action there just below the cheer to transform from cheer to anger... and then maybe a line between metamorphosis and the last two to tie it all in... Perhaps "I throw my freaking beer..."

I am no longer me
when I become we.

great work, keep writing!

 

All i can say is that you are a funny fellow. Especially about drinking alone is shite.
_______________________________________________
Poetry writers Network edited

 

you are amazingly talented. keep em coming

 

Thanks Keeper and Userfriendly for taking the time to leave a line of encouragement.

Vetty, your comments as always are very insightful. You asked whether any of what you said surprised me. Well, yes it did. To be honest, the red and white standing for Cowboys and Indians, or the British army never crossed my mind. I also didn't give much thought to the Hooligan(s) title. I never really considered the plural version, as the poem started out as an exploration of losing our individuality.

Originally, I wanted to write something about how Hitler used words to strip people of their ability to think for themselves and of their personal responsibility for their actions. I had been struggling with it for ages, when I remembered a book I'd read about hooliganism called "Amongst the Thugs" by Bill Buford. It was an exploration into what caused young men to become a 'mob'.

I also have a lot of personal experience with hooliganism from my youth. I used to go to soccer matches regularly, and have both seen and been involved in some nasty incidents. It's funny but the chant from the poem is actually something we used to sing at those games.

Anyway, the poem was a lot longer after the first draught but I cut it down to be short and snappy, like the fuse of these young men at football games. I do think I need to add a little more, possibly some sort of incident to spark the metamorphosis but I have put it on the back-burner for a little while to see if anything bubbles to the top.

Thanks again for your constant help and support.

 

You knew red, I don't think you need criticism. You are still the great poet that you have been when I first started reading your's. To you too, I'm sorry I haven't kept up on your's. When you have to go to the library to get online it gets tough, now it's at home. Keep writing Red, I enjoy your talent.

 

Ode to the brevitity of life and the consequences of actions

Mozzy, Mozzy buzzing by,
Do you know that you will die?
Are you aware or do you care,
how dangerous it is?

You land and feed
You suck, I bleed.
A swift sharp smack,
I've got the knack
of killing without flinching.

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So, I wrote this in 1 minute for a thread in RT. I sorta like it though. What do you guys think?

 

I kind of like it too. For some reason it made me think and I like it when I'm made to think.