Saturday, April 30, 2016

Seemless Mythology

Hand weaving witch’s
spandex, the wax composition
board of hollyhock
and hibiscus, I hatch
the gilded grimoire
to target a promise keeper.
The dark-wood chapel
saves the bronze medallion
and a Bahama Yogi makes
ivy origami.
Showering in la pacha tea,
I eat the burnout like bramback,
the absolute calvary beams
dimensions in gold silk.

Source: Words gathered from Google search pages, 1-5 using the term “kava damask.”


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And here is poem 30. When I return, I will do the last two prompts from The Found Poetry Review. I think I made some good poems, and some not so good ones. What really matters is that I wrote a poem pretty much every day. Why the hell can't I do this at least every other month?

Which poem did you like the best?

Friday, April 29, 2016

Lazy Eye Orchestra



Source: Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Beautiful and Damned. Kindle for Windows 8.1. Loc, 1103 of 5049.


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Hey all, here is poem 29. I know, I didn't do a prompt but  I will do the last two prompts when I get back from my little vacation. I just couldn't leave this challenge unfinished, so I decided to do some found poems on my own. 

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Determination Conspiracy

early existence
broken chrome colonies
frantic erasures

behind Earth faces
confident expenditures
fatal envy dulls

a deluded chapter
for eyelid fanatics
a good flat fire found

atomic arrows bribe
because esoteric brass
colors a galaxy

The song composed from these words

Determination Conspiracy

Source: Goodale, Earl. “Success Story.”Gutenberg.org. Web. 28 Apr 2016.
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51805

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This prompt was pretty nifty. In short, we were to grab a text and collect words that begin with the letters A,B,C,D,E,F, and G. Then we create a poem. Once the poem is complete, were to compose a song, the beginning letter corresponds to a note, the syllables correspond to the note beat. You can read the full prompt here

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

(someday somewhere)

And Ritchie you are so right
(someday somewhere)
sleep while the grill is hot
the horizon cries at twilight
Kansas is just around the corner
though he’s long gone
(someday somewhere)
Ritchie keeps singing
that the fire caresses the moon
sunshine melts the ground
fluffy lyrics and the road moves on
(someday somewhere)
then that song from high school
blending of universes and time warps
silver silo
the out of focus fuzzy
hearts with trademarks
flavorless, warm and flat fountain Coke
I can see for miles and miles.
(someday somewhere)

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Hey all here is poem 27.  This is a reversal poem. Today's prompt actually had a few to choose from so I chose a reversal and picked an old poem. You can read the original, somewhat, by reading it backwards.  I did some editing, but you will get the idea of what the original sounded like. You can check this  prompt and the other prompts for the day here.

I actually remember when I wrote the original or at least sort of. It was at least  5 years ago and we went to the grocery store to pick up food for our camping trip. A song was playing through the store.  I am not sure of the actual song title but it is an oldie and it goes something like "someday somewhere, someday somewhere, I'm gonna love you." or something similar to that. It sounded like Ritchie Valence, but I don't think it is. And on our way down, there was this silver silo and only a strange square shimmered like wavy heat, the rest of the silo was normal. And I was drinking warm fountain Coke from McDonald's. The second to last line is a song lyric as well.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Dandelion

my brain sits on the shelf
submerged in nightcap oak
I flex the mini-blinds
the sun stares through my window
it ignites the dandelions
but nothing burns.
It is the zombie
taxon kept in the jar,
playing banjos
at noon
enwhay ethay yskay eginsbay otay
umblecray ardsshay ofay ilversay
and the ducky clouds
pander stolen Coach bags,
which I don’t yearn for
Thank you.
Unless the bag is endless
atoms and worm holes
I find my vision weakens
when rain plays
the piano.
Where are the dancing
leaves and motionless
trees?
At night, I creep
over the stars and drink
with the moon
and I come to
realize I’m just a soul alloy.

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Hey all here is poem 26. Here is the full prompt which you are better off to read yourself because I can't really explain it. Just to let you know the mumbo-jumbo is  not mumbo-jumbo but pig Latin. So then first word is when. If you don't know how to work pig Latin take the first letter or two letters like in words like crap and move them to end and add ay. Words with a vowel in the beginning just get an ay at the end. Fun times.  What do you think?

Monday, April 25, 2016

The Lawn Fawn of Napa Grand

I am a lawn fawn encyclopedia pita
lawn fawn is a keen Napa grand
Less questions- the key to the brujahjah log.
I rule the maze, Ella!
I envy the Prius march
freesia days, pretty
I am to lasso the oasis.
And the day shall be ruined
And a ton of you showed me out.
Too late to turn very YOLO
I attended this caravan before.

Source: Source: Laabi, Abdellatif. "Je Suis de l’Enfant de ce siecle." PoetryTranslation.Org. Web 25 Apr. 2016. http://www.poetrytranslation.org/poems/im-a-child-of-this-century/original

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Hey all, here is poem 25. This prompt asked to "translate" a poem in a foreign language by sound. I did have to play it with just a tad just for it to make some kind sense. You can read the full prompt here


Sunday, April 24, 2016

Secret Lives of Backyard Critters




Here's the original:


Source: Fischer, Jean. "Blackout Poems and Writer's Retreats." Jean Fischer's Something to Write Home About.  4 Aug. 2013. Web. 24 Apr. 2016. https://jeanfischer.wordpress.com/2013/08/04/blackout-poems-and-writers-retreats/


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And here's poem number 24. This one is pretty interesting. The basic idea is to take an erasure poem and fill in the blanks so that it is cohesive. So I tried my best with the spacing and the words, I had a take a guess since the author of the original black out poem was consistent with the markings. You can read the full prompt here . Oh yeah, I misspelled the word sweet and since I was using paint, I had to redo that little bit of line as you can tell.

Saturday, April 23, 2016

April 23, 2016

for HEB


crazy, warped vinyl in the chateau -
Cleopatra wants to be a star
& misty mountain school waits in wood

(crazy, star, mountain)

Let us have abstinence from worry
speckled carmine wings grow from our backs
midnight in the Moscow cathedral

(worry, carmine, midnight)

I’m the monarch of the mountains
You are the Pittsburgh memoranda
selling two thousand pounds of space blocks.

(monarch, Pittsburgh, thousand)

Take me home on a comet steamboat.

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Here is poem 23 and this was my one of my favorites prompts yet. This particular form I will do more with including the longer version. Here is the full prompt here.


Friday, April 22, 2016

21st Century Ant Bytes









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Here is poem 22. This is by far the most experimental poem. I am not even sure what to call it. Hell I don't even know if I understood the prompt right. You can read the full prompt here 


Thursday, April 21, 2016

Sound of the Damned



Source: Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Beautiful and Damned Kindle for Windows 8.1, loc 811 of 5049.

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Here is poem 21. This is an exploration in sound, well that is how I took it anyway. Read the full prompt here

Essence

epidemic of Palm Sunday, gushed
forth derived alukah- dwelt often in
contemporary mythology. Caressing thunder
challenges mockery, the disquiet story
writes real lives screenwriting happy.
I belong across country, earth
cast glamour once over sandstone
inhabitants. Fertilization, predestination,
information, calculation,
unforseen rents flourish, a reception market
different poetry of spontaneous kernel
truth. A structured twentieth century
pleasure encounters beyond anything.

each devout shadow translated several
species detached by flesh, a viable
shiver pools at some desolate forgotten
desire, entanglement, simple drunk force-
a wind vial. Covered myself without disturbing,
hairy little men distributed optimum wastages. Endeavors
pay best sellers, sweat literary capabilities
peddling veiled concepts and South Carolina grits.
It’s a girlie market abstraction, just
might become memory, the best
epithanic takes Saturday review, civilized
assumptions glimpsed joy.
Forty plus frights served.

They uncovered burned ghouls
in Israel . Streams wandered their way,
derivation sucked native rain blue, lonely
depths drowned demonstrate play. Climaxes
contain an intractable dilemma. You
cry for the moon on a minivan, temper
powder made clotting apples prick
verdigris dawn inside crimson blush. Seldom
vanished morula and dropped saline
solution and poured the index procession
marching to sell a single Hollywood song.
Grammar education skills proper phrase, hardwired
lyric poetry truckin itself to create
articulation. Shrunken honesty in
painting churches, protected assumptions
from the public entity feature thoughts-
a dedicated generation will feel me.

Sources:
Dobyns, Stephen. Next Word, Better Word. New York: Mallgrave MacMillan, 2011. Page 10. Print.
Downs, William Missouri & Robin U. Russin. Naked Playwriting. Beverly Hills: Silman James Press, 2004. Page 10. Print.
Gaiman, Neil. “Snow, Glass, Apples.” Love in Vein II, Poppy Z Brite, ed. New York: Castle Books, 2010. Page 10. Print.
Huxley, Aldous. Brave New World. New York: Perennial Classics, 1998. Page 10. Print.
Koontz, Dean. What the Night Knows. New York: Bantam Books, 2011. Page 10. Print.
McNamara, Brooks. Plays from the Contemporary American Theater. New York, Signet Classics, 1988. Page 10. Print.
Melton, J. Gordon. The Vampire Book. Detroit: Visible Ink, 1999. Page 10. Print.
Orr, David. Beautiful and Pointless. New York: Harper Collins, 2011. Page 10. Print.
Press, Skip. How to Write What You Want & Sell What You Write. New York: Fall River Press, 2011. Page 10. Print.
Williamson, J.N, Dark Masques. New York: Pinnacle Books, 2001. Page 10. Print.


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Hey all here is poem 20. This was one of the most tedious prompts to date, you can read the full prompt here. It took me all day to work on it and I started it about 24 hours ago.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

And it's These Kind of Thoughts One Thinks of Where There is Nothing to Think Of

I’ll be
removing
out of underwear
and neglected
by satin mittens

and glance
at a crowded
radio speaker
some night short
because it’s so mean

forgetting
how repulsive
the cordial
open-down
visual
of the white
water well
was when
it was last
broken
down out the bedroom.

Source: Poulsen, Toroddur. “You.” 3AmMagazine.com. Web 19 Apr. 2016. http://www.3ammagazine.com/3am/mundi-other-poems/

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Here is poem 19. Which is a little bit experimentation I came up with myself. I took the original poem which in this case was "You" and rewrote it  using the opposite or almost opposite of the word. I changed verbs, nouns and pronouns, and articles when needed.  This is full prompt here and asks us to translate poetry and today I spent some time reading deconstructionist literary theory which I think this is where the idea came from.

Monday, April 18, 2016

The Paradigm Edict

I dictate prejudice, vindicate paradise, indict revenge, proclaim the predicate. This crucifixion is the archetype antithesis. And so, I preach to the paranoid and work on the death of August. Variant objects on paracord cost only but a dime. An asinine hell signifies voir dire and I sample obscure time tokens while I say, pronounce that I am the benediction paradigm- a shift of vendetta to the zero-grade form.

Source: Words associated with paradigm and the entry of "deik" in the Indo-European Word Roots  https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/indoeurop.html#IR017200

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Hey all, here is poem 18. It is nice to create a short poem once in awhile. Do not be fooled though, this took a few hours to create.  This is a rather difficult prompt to explain, so why not check out this prompt and two others here.

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Every Life Again and Different

On prohibiting the ear of our virgin
in the imps happiness in eager
caucus ring for the little sweet
salvation the joy of the village
is the anxiety email freedom to die
of ancient literature and exhilarate.

The meaning divinest soul selects
her own society that I know her
from a vast nation, I can expose
the heavens. I know solitary
houses of the road where two
would creep up the fantasy.

The sun has left the door ajar
we can touch the air spaces
inebriated am I, that he ate and drank
the precious words on the bay
in this immortal copy.

When the floods split hills
by the sign of the scarlet prison happiness
or condemn a distant sky
he goads me like the goblin
bee and angels know the rest

And life has immortality
shadows tremble so some twelve
o'clock burning go dry for eden
I wandered into the sordid excellence
as a paradise- and if the soul of the past solstice
called my full growing fallen
I choose just a throne
behind this sweet sip your chilled eclipse.

Jasmine loneliness betrays a product
witchcraft, pedigree honey, instead of going
to heaven. At last I'm going along
breezes madder play, lethargic pools
take the purr A sphere of simple grass
and I put on the overnight dew
like pearls.

I would be hay
or a basket butterfly and sign off
as slow celebrate torches burn, transcend
ecstasy in the land of sunset washes
seasons correspond to the same ancestor
of the dawn.

A tape moment down on the deserts
but the sky pendulum, pathetic esoteric
timepiece, shadows hold their breath
cannot avoid this pristine purple in the morning
it suits his own austerity for satin racing.

We are sometimes taken at noon
the clouds intact as listless elephants
and encryption of the divine clew,
an inner core of intoxication
the sea in the west adjusted
human nature in the grave
and covered our names.

I strolled through buzzing dull
floes, the illustrious can be welded down
forests galloped until they fell
I visited the sky, endless junction
eternity is almost endless.

Just the beginning of life unopened
rare on the best vitality tray
cannot excel. I knew the light before
because I could not stop for death
he kindly stopped for me.

As softly as a star after midnight
the morning star uniforms the land
but cannot condescend if pride
is in paradise. My soul in
freedom behind this deadly
bone. I lost the world
other day. The morning of the eye
did not happen. I did not lost
much, but twice.

Source: Dickinson, Emily. “Poems by Emily Dickinson, Series One.” Mabel Loomis Todd & TW Higginson, eds. Transcribed by Jim Tinsley. Kindle Book.

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Hey all, here is poem 17.  This was an interesting prompt. In a nutshell, we were to go through a book of poems and highlight lines we liked, then type in paragraph form without punctuation. After that we were to run through Google Translator a bunch of times. Then put it back in in English and then create your poem. You can read the full prompt here. I just love Dickson, I am always excited to study her poems for class. 

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Kairos



Source: Young, Charles A. "A Textbook if General Astronomy for Colleges and Scientific Schools."  Pg 149. PDF. 16 Apr, 2016. http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37275



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Here is poem 16. Today's prompt asked to get a page from a book then change the punctuation to asterisks, bullets of our choosing, one symbol for one punctuation mark. Then invert the colors and make a constellation. You can read the full prompt here. Kairos is a Greek word that means opportunity, fitting time or season. I just like the way it sounded.

Friday, April 15, 2016

Iron Pyrite

violent quakes
hid in shadows
running down the valley
a path only a goat would choose

the fuzz come to bust
the whiskey connection
almost excruciating residual heat
space the shadow

alien burn marks
anywhere in the galaxy
going to fire
my breath would catch
red envelopes for my queries

the blade kept a good edge
flaky with the passing of time
in this cursed valley
swimming with the fishes

under the light of the moon, a king’s
ransom of gold lay in my hands
four full copper
pack of rabid, female badgers

a curl of smoke drifted up
until the words on my door twisted around
sink into the floor boards

my continued silence
a string of curses
another tankard of ale
I’d find the gold


Source: Heppner, Jamie. "A Collection of Shorts." Kindle Book

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Hey all, here is poem 15. I really like how this turned out. Today's prompt was to reread the last book we read that we didn't like and look for lovely gems. You can read the full prompt here. So I just want to say a word or two this book, I don't hate it, it was okay and since I read a lot of things for school like text books and other short stories, I haven't read a full book in awhile, this was the last one I read from start to finish. And it makes me feel kind of bad because this author is an independent author ( I have this thing like we are in some same club) and I used this book for the prompt.

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Ten Planes Overhead

For twenty minutes I sat outside at dusk; no one was outside. There was some distant dog barking. Six small birds sat on the top of tree down back. Ten air planes flew overhead most heading west into the setting sun, they looked like comets streaking across the peach sky. Where are they are going, where did they take off? That’s a plane every two minutes that crossed into my bit of sky. Are the planes full? I often think about 9/11 and Flight 93. Did it fly over my house before it came down in Shanksville? I think it must have. Sometimes I hear a plane flying low too low for my liking, since the closest airport is forty minutes away and it’s not even a large airport more like a hub. I was there last year twice to rent a car. Both times I walked in and the airport was dead. I didn’t even see TSA. I expected more but I haven’t flown since 9/11. But I think about those low flying planes that are probably going to the airport and I think what if? Could it happen again? How far away is safe if the plane came down. I guess that is kind of outlandish right? I don’t think it would happen again, but the world seems to be coming apart at it’s seams. I wrote a story about this very thought. You know I didn’t live in New York or DC but I do live in Pennsylvania and I think about Flight 93 a lot. The news broke over the classic rock station I was listening to and I couldn’t believe it. I rushed inside and turned on CNN just in time to see the second plane hit the other tower. I called my mom to make sure my dad was not flying and he wasn’t. So I just stood there in disbelief like a squirrel in the middle of the road. I didn’t know what to do. I wonder when Flight 93 flew over head? Was it when I was on my way home and getting off the exit. Was it when I was in my house watching the news? I don’t know, I just have this feeling that if I looked up at the sky that morning, I would seen it streaking across the sky like a comet. And its strange to obsess over one plane. And today all these planes fly by, like everything is normal, disappearing into the edge of the dome, like golden comets straight out of a movie.

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Hey all, here is the workings of prompt 14. So it's odd that every time there is a prompt that requires thoughts, it always comes out as prose. I don't know why. Here is the full prompt, which you can read here.  I seriously do not think in complete sentences but here we are, complete sentences and run-ons, I will blame this on my fingers, who do all the typing anyway.


Enjoyable Wander

Ambitions of blackjack margaritas, salt water
Taffy in sleazy hotels as nostalgic
Liberty risked prohibition in seagull
Arcades to find sexy working women.
Nothing shines like an ocean nugget-
Taste of old wax and summer.
I was revamped by the hurricane facade-
Casinos magically gliding by. Restored

Crab fries and city eggs
In the heart of the lighthouse like the
Time in the maze of lasers, a resurgence of
Your white sand boardwalk beams.

Source: Words gathered from various pages about Atlantic City on Trip Advisor.


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And here is poem number 13. This prompt called for us to look through travel websites, collect words and make a poem from them.  You can read the full prompt here.

I chose Atlantic City because I love it there. It took me forever to work on the poem today because I was distracted and doing other things. I didn't want to work on the poem until I  did my one assignment for class and I didn't do that till much later because making banana bread was really important earlier.

One last thing, this poem is an acrostic using the words "Atlantic City." I do love my acrostic form.

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

But I'm Doing Fine

2 weeks ago, I fell out of a box
and bashed my shin on the edge
right where the top of the ham
hits the inner glute
-deep bruise contusion
someone has stabbed
it with a hot knife,
and then just left the knife in there
If I had to describe the feeling
imagine someone holding a pin
to your eye and slowly moving it forward
but- I’m doing fine.

It’s almost like a I can feel blood moving
I am either freezing cold or sweating buckets
I have a tingling/burning feeling
I haven’t been able to pee all day
but- I’m doing fine.

I have been taking Ritalin
I feel light! My head is clear.
but- I’m doing fine.

Source: Various health forum member questions and personal Facebook account.

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Here is today's poem. This was an interesting prompt, you can read the full version here The basic idea is to collect twenty different people's posted feelings about their ailments. I had a lot more material to start with, but for some reason these lines were the ones that "spoke" to me. Interesting fact, many of these lines are verbatim, I only changed spelling and did line breaks where necessary.

Monday, April 11, 2016

Libra Rising

Putting together pieces of broken
works form of things apart
in your mind’s eye. There is something
this teaches you and when you reconstruct
the old world, there is elegance - a cultured touch
and sensibility that provides into fascinating
worlds. The most tenacious destiny
verges to deluge- one more delicious moment.

From a tree out of the personal, you are forced
to watch and listen, a fair witness with no vantage
point. Being a truth vessel, perfectly designed to hold nothing
but perversity, corruption and radical distortion,
you are aware what is good and what is true. Gifted
in darkness, simply with constructive forces, the pure
idealist is perfectly transparent.

Spinning trance states being inside the inside,
weaving time of detached persuading. Invoking the next dance,
this penetrating sensibility is a collective voice of scrutiny-
the force of every stitch

Magic has bland realism masquerading
as straightforward. The ruse is free and frolics
randomly. A motivating spark abandons your future
soul and entertains itself in tides of events.
The first cue to explode future for real.

Bitten by a snake initiates rigors
and evolutionary transformation,
metamorphosing into extremes states of anguish
and elation. Freedom fingers collective cycles, you feel infinity,
the simple for breath destiny. Obsessed,
you are a rabidly lost visionary of staggered freedom.

Thinking up names for colors,
the mind populates the world with the rich
sphere. Your refinements are adept in magic,
a penetrating power into the spectrum
of universal light,
an infinite force of concrete and better intelligence.

Writing with the tip of your fingernail, the same story
reveals the nuance of the superfine stitch. You, selected by destiny
by an eerie gaze of idiosyncratic shots.
How is it done, why it done this forever utterly nothing.

A pair of middle maverick sensibilities, defiant
of masks and privilege, you are desperate to break
the jugular. Tempted shadows assume a claim upon you.
You cannot refuse bare karmic
shadows rage and love become eventual existence.

Changing water into wine is hope to find,
to search, to strive in the dispensable
container. Miracle continuum offers action
to everybody as the springboard for the ordinary
enhances the prophetic earth with the ravishing embrace.

Eating cherries
by the paradoxical drama it’s the
generous permission, granted for currents. Fool
the bluff and the wild territory
runs everywhere. Hide and seek with the divine
and glory of life is liberated.

A black pearl hidden
in an oyster takes tremendous pride
from your core, the deep ache is hell, suffering,
facing of the void. Midstream stamina is deceptive
and world appearances is corrosive. What
matters? The restored world supremely.

Broken open, spilling out
blood and guts- the critical release. Tension
and pressure brings destiny to postpone
the reckoning, glory in defeat.
It was always in you, ripe, bursting nothing longer.

Tapping the pulse
of the times, you are susceptible
to dynamics, not consciousness. An excess of vital
spirits track you forward
throughout their resonant reverberations
of destiny.

A tornado approaches
releasing spirits. You seek the violent
urgency, plunged into the obsessive
or addictive release. Tremendous temptations force
you through an extreme existence-
deep inside alive, cleaning of consciousness.

Your own reflection dominates
your insulated life. Destiny jerked you,
lingering on the brink between worlds. You
and your world is a tense drama engaged
to your journey of the status quo, seeking fascination.

An alchemical code brings everything
here. The authoritative shake is myth.
Your penetration upon the spiral is clear-
you partake in dedication chaos
and commune with the permeating chronicle,
riveted realization of renewing birthright.

Removing a thorn, the fatal clarity
you hunger is dark, subtly poisoning
the atmosphere, a gradual abyss,
a claim of sober strength
happens to attain the superficial prototype.

Zeal is an quandary. The best is unmistakable
and you are the steadfast novice puzzling
the age juncture the shame under the fall, dedication
within the basic foster.
We all just got here.

Source: Londale, Ellias. Inside Degrees. Web 11 Apr 2016 http://aquaorfire.net/astrology/inside_degrees/inside_degrees.html

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And finally after many hours, poem number 11. I absolutely loved this prompt and it inspired me to do more with this prompt. The first step  was to create my astrological birth chart and then look up the degrees and the signs then I was to craft a poem from the results. You can read the full prompt here.

What do you think? I think it turned out really well.

Sunday, April 10, 2016

The Full Moon and Lust of the Witch




Source:
Gray, Emma J. "Fun for the Househould: A book of Games." Gutenberg.org. Web 10 Apr. 2016. http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51540


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Here is poem ten. So I am not sure if it is my ever-obsession with witches or I just finished watching Salem on Netflix but when I saw this, I saw something rather naughty and rather witchy. The source was originally published in 1897 and this poem comes from the game "The Man in the Moon." One other interesting tidbit, the original book was published by The Christian Herald. Some how, I find that fact pretty funny.

This an more traditional erasure poem. You can read the full prompt here to learn more about it.

Kudos to my kid, who suggested the inversion of color. She said it was a little too plain with the white background and the blacked out words. I agree, I am not against white space but for some reason this poem demanded less white space. 

The Underside of a Log





Source:
Lafferty, R.A. "Dream World." Gutenberg.org. Web. 9 Apr. 2016. http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51668


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I know, a day late but here is poem number 9. Technically you can read this any way you wish, however, this is how I created it all the yellow words go together to make one poem, all the blue words go together and then lastly all the green words go together. This was an erasure style poem, but not exactly, the highlights are the words I selected. You can read the full prompt here and it will probably make more sense if you read it on your own.

A little note about method: I retrieved this from Gutenberg.org (lots of free stuff to read!). Anyway I opened the text file, copied the entire thing and pasted it in my word processor. Then I made a chart and copied selections from the text in the chart. I had hoped the chart would allow for easier reading and since I was posting online, I thought it would look better as well.

Friday, April 8, 2016

Barnegat

It was a Friday and I left early from school this was not normal, I always went to school without early days my dad was real particular on that. We went to Barnegat. It had to have been warm, the sun was shining and he left me wade in the ocean. I wore jeans and spent the next two days sore. We had Burger King to eat one of the days. I think it rained on Saturday.

It was May maybe my dad’s birthday, which actually would make sense, I left school early and it was hot out. Everyone was outside for recess but not me, I don’t know what I are for lunch maybe nuggets since that was my favorite. I never left early from school. I used to have perfect attendance. I think it was third grade because there was no way it could be fourth grade. The four of us went to Barnegat.

We went right to the beach and dad let wade in the ocean. not my brother though, no one else was swimming. I wore jeans that day because the ocean water chafed my inner thigh. We went to Burger at some point. My brother and I wore crowns. I remember the picture because it is black and white although I am young enough to have my pictures taken in color, dad just liked black and white film.

There was only time, I left school early and that was in third grade. It was around and the sky was so blue and it was warm but I wore jeans. We went to Barnegat in New Jersey, it’s like every thing before this trip and almost everything after this trip has vanished. It was a motel we stayed at but I don’t remember it. From what I can remember from the black and white photo was there two beds and a tv. My brother and I sat on the bed with our Burger King Crowns. I know it was Friday and it was warm there and I waded in the ocean which was cold but not too cold. Was this the first time I saw the ocean? When did I go to North Carolina? I was there once before the divorce. Mom read Stephen King and Dad waited for the ferry. Maybe it was second grade.

The first time I saw the ocean had to been in second grade. We went to Barnegat. I remember the name of the place but I remember nothing else. There is a photograph, a black and white one that shows my brother and I wearing are Burger King crowns, I do not know what I ate and I am not sure what we did but I think it rained Saturday. Friday though, it was May because it was really warm and it probably was my dad’s birthday or close to it. It was hot there at the shore and my dad let me go in the ocean in my school clothes. I soaked my legs and then was sore for the next two days from the ocean soaked jeans rubbing against my legs. It was a motel we stayed at but I don’t know much. I really think it rained Saturday. Sunday has vanished

Saturday at Barnegat, I think at some point I ate dairy queen and it wasn’t like the dairy queen we have at home because it had food. I remember that being a strange word that almost sounded like brasier. It must have been lunch but who knows what we ate for dinner. I think it rained Saturday but I think we saw a lighthouse and maybe looked for shells. Maybe we did that Friday, we did spend time at the beach as soon as we got there. I remember being happy then. I got to leave school early and that is something I never did it had to been May and it was definitely a Friday. Everyone was out at recess. The sky was so blue and felt almost weird to see all my classmates in the playground and I was sitting in the back of the car. When we got to the beach, my dad let me wade in the ocean. I know at some point we ate Burger King. There is a black and white photo of my brother and I wearing our crowns. I am wondering if this was the first time I ever saw the ocean because I all remember is the ocean and the beach and how the water was cool but not too cool and the sky was blue and the sand soft. There was no one there. I think it rained Saturday.

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I know this is not very poem-esque not even prose poem, well I guess it could be considered a prose poem. The prompt today was write 6 versions of a memory that you don't really remember.  You can read the whole prompt here. I had a lot of trouble with this prompt and even now, I have no idea what to do with it.  I may have been getting mixed up with other stuff in the longer paragraphs.

Thursday, April 7, 2016

Carved Stars from Evangelism

I was nothing (a bunch of gods hanging
around, shooting pool)
toothless piloting across the wasteland
Kansas is just around the corner
I bite the acid- trying to suck star shine-
hit the liquor store, then seduce
sanctioned degenerates, dirty rejects.

I am the angel who slaughters
the lamb, the smoking moon
sleeps in cobwebs- darker side
of heaven- it is my halos
in darkness, arrows forged
in steel and low winding fumfu.

I am shadow, watching
witchery through a straw &
alligator skin shrivel.
This born sand life disappears in between
cackles and shackles.
Burn me with sweet infringence.

I want blue-sky thinking
secrets among worms and centipedes.
The antecedent mountains become
mysterious ice phenomenon, assembly
line witches slip through sun streams
and I put high-voltage black berry brandy
under the bed, find the rosary
and the way that zings.
Truth remains croaking over the freeway.

I elicit rapture and shrapnel-
undecided you say I have a lake in me
perhaps solitude is done best alone


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Here is poem number 7! This was one of my favorite prompts thus far. For this prompt we were to write a cento using lines from our own poems. I learned another way to recycle older (and not as good as current poetry) from my last poetry class and this is another way to make new stuff from what I have. You can read the full prompt here.

Some of these lines do come from older poems, some from newer poems. What you see here are not the exact lines from the original poem, as I did change line breaks here and there,  but word order remained the same. The only thing I changed was a verb tense in one of the lines and added punctuation where I saw fit. I will definitely use this method again when I want to write a poem but don't know what to write.

Enjoy!

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Wrapping Paper

They read and recycle daily comics for party favors. We slice and dice daily comics for paper mache. Inky smiles melt and fold in on themselves for daily comics are just old school hacks. It is like the Easter Bunny left stale jelly beans. But I found stale jelly beans wrapped in a faded daily comic page, just the other day, from someone I cannot remember, but they must have been kind, and they must have known me because there were just red and orange ones, my favorite.

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Here is day 6's poem. This one is a prose poem. I learned about prose poems in my last poetry class and it is something I would like to create more of. So when I saw this as an available prompt, I pounced it. Today's prompt was part of a list prompts that I could choose from. I chose prompt 9, which goes like this Write a prose poem of five sentences. The first sentence should include a pronoun ( not “I”) doing something that itself includes an image/object. The 2nd sentence should have a different pronoun doing something else with the same image/object. The 3rd sentence should be a statement about this image/object. For the 4th sentence, write a simile that is unrelated. In the 5th, use “I” and relate part of the simile to the original statement. If you want, you can check out the other prompts, here

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

What Stories?

Hey all, so I am quite behind on my fiction challenge for this year. At first it started out great and then I had fiction workshop 2 this past term and I don't know what happened. That class was real tough because my brain just shut down. I did manage to get the work done, however I didn't write a story on top of that. According to my calculations, I am five  stories behind.

One of the nice things about creating your own writing challenge, is you can pretty much change the rules at any time. Question is: why did I create the challenge in the first place? Answer: to write more and be more dedicated to writing.

I have given it some thought and I am going to start again with one story a week next week. This week I am on break and instead of fretting over story ideas, I am going to pick a story I have already started. I have three works in progress that are on the trajectory for being very long stories. One is a novel I have been working on for the past couple of years.

And there is a song, I like Riptide by Vance Joy and every time I hear this song, one of my works in progress comes to life in my mind.  It's a feeling I just can't shake. So this week, I am going to work on Love Always, Seaside Heights and possibly next week. Goal is to finish it. Then hopefully, with writing become more of a habit, I will be able to restart working on a short story every week.

On the bright side, I have five new stories written because of class and I am in the process of more revisions on the stories. One is destined for here, one is destined for the short story book I am working on and the rest I would like to send away.

Until next time...

The Eventual Collapse of the Solar System or Global Warming- Take Your Pick

when my eyes open, all i have, is the sun,
sitting there, floating in space, held together
by conjoined gravity. it isn’t much these thoughts
of black holes, and when my time comes, i will
strip off my strappy shoes and silver chains, and
slip through sun streams.

flying fish, fridays, lucid memories of sleepy
dreamscapes, impressionism, and solitude. selfish
are the flowers that stay in the sun, a sweet something
to relinquish. saliva on the cypress, simple swellings
of southern hospitality.

Now What Have You Brought?
Blood in Baskets
Night-Mares on Lolli-Pops
Never-Ending- Dys-Topia
Anx-Ious Heart-Beating
Will This Ever Stop?

not on your Life,
it only gets
worse from here on out.

Let me be Free
Let me Breath
Die in my own way
Madness is short
In the long run.

Remember magic
is what you wanted
A trade is what You Offered
I will not set you Free.
Your Dystopia feeds me.
Old is the mind
Wiser. Let me

No. Peace is
Not Yours.
Freedom is all I ask.

Freedom is a common lie.
Come and sleep with beatss
That thrash your mind.
No. No. This is not real. These Voices are Ghosts.
TUMBLING, FALLING LEAVES OF BROWN
TO GREEN BLACK HOLES AND SUNSET SURF
BETROTHED CHAINS RUST AND WHAT
OF FREEDOM

oh you say, my imagination is a beast
the inescapable lives i carry, whispering
from black holes and i awake with a slippery sun,
pumping my heart and silver runs cold.


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And here is poem number 5. This is free verse and a bit of stream of conscious. This poem is supposed to emulate Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody as in the movements of the song. The prompt today was provided by Sarah Blake and you could read the full prompt here. So it was a replication of movement, not new song lyrics. I hope that I somewhat accomplished that.

Monday, April 4, 2016

Dawn of the Pure Chicken



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Here is poem number 4. Perhaps to you,  this may look like it took an hour tops. But really, it was more like several hours. It is best if you read the original prompt here. He calls this word blocks and it looks like word art to me, either way I think I came up with something interesting. 

Today's and yesterday's prompt combined two things I love, art and poetry and chances are I will probably explore more of this type of poetry in the future.



Sunday, April 3, 2016

thepatronsaintofimaginationinvitesyoutotea



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Here is poem #3 for the National Poetry Month Challenge. This prompt totally blew my definition of what poetry is. I learned something new about poetry- about what it can be and what it doesn't have to be. This is called visual poetry. You can read the full prompt here because I cannot really describe it.

Before making this, I did some studying on visual poetry because I think it was only yesterday while I was on poetryfoundation.org website that I first saw visual poetry. After research time, I hand drew everything then I took a photo. I finally got use my tablet as a drawing aid! Once I photographed the sketch, I went to my tablet and traced the sketch. Once that was complete, I brought it back to my PC and did necessary photo editing.

I enjoyed this prompt and I am thinking this might make a neat little poetry project in the future.

Saturday, April 2, 2016

Ruined Fallout

Look around your cacao
gravity, at all your disguised
praise. They’re worth
more than you think.

But if you have triggers and uranium pits
from El Nino, your bleached coral is protected
for much less than you’d expect.

One big tomorrow, our haunted
heart is a unique, personalized cancer
that helps me uncover all the sacrificed
darkness your entitled to. No
wonder souls switched their smoke and ash
to guns, saved with our veteran suicide
on outstanding greed- the most native fire.

Sources:

Advertising letter from State Farm Insurance

Perez, Craig Santos. "Halloween in the Anthropocene, 2015." PoetryFoundation.org. Web. 2 Apr, 2016. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/252166


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Day two of poetry challenge. The prompt was different and little challenging, but I think I came up with something interesting. The first part was to find some kind of junk mail, or government document and then take out the nouns. Then replace the nouns with words from another text. You can read the full prompt here. For this poem I used an advertising letter from State Farm Insurance and chose words from the poem Halloween in the Anthropocene, 2015.  If you have a chance read the original poem, the link is provided, it is an amazing poem.

Friday, April 1, 2016

Statesmen and Prophecies

mezzanine whispers
prohibit peace of mind, broke
sunnyside over
standpipes- silent mouth holes-
inferior delusions win elections.


Source:
New York (N.Y.). Board of Standards and Appeals. Bulletin of the Board of Standards And Appeals of the City of New York. New York, N.Y.: the Board, (44-45).  1917. Web. 1 Apr. 2016. <http://hdl.handle.net/2027/nyp.33433066307426?urlappend=%3Bseq=50>


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First poem for 2016 National Poetry Month.  Here is the poetry prompt generator that I used. It was created by Patrick Williams. My personal prompt was to find 5 words from the provided two pages and make a five line poem with the found words starting each line. Then I was to title it "Statesmen and Prophecies."

Yeah for National Poetry Month

It's National Poetry Month and I know you are all excited about it. I know I am. The folks over Found Poetry Review have created another interesting challenge for this year. This one is a  little bit different from other ones. There will be thirty different prompts, a new prompt every day created by various people. You don't need to sign up just like them on Facebook or Twitter and keep up to date when a new prompt is posted. I am going to try and do all thirty just because I really should write more poetry. I am going to work on the first one here shortly.

Since the nature of the challenge is different, I will be posting poems here first. So if you love my poems, please do come by and check it out. And this should be interesting since that would actually mean I should be posting everyday. Okay mostly everyday because I have some plans this month and I won't be home, so I will be catching up on the off days.

Till next time...