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and post the poem in this thread. Anyone can enter or exit at any time. Have fun and good luck all.
Topics for Day 1:
Jack Kevorkian Nick Clegg Bigotry Volcano Theo van Gogh (film director) B.o.B Volcanic ash Kick Ass British Airways Flight 9 Christina Hendricks Tim Tebow Katla Gang Starr Muhammad Carl Williams (criminal) Dorothy Height Lalit Modi Reactive oxygen species Gerry Ryan May Day Freddy Krueger A Nightmare on Elm Street Suzanne Tamim Exxon Valdez oil spill Expo 2010 Jackie Earle Haley Chelsea Handler michael mckean donald driver great gatsby sierra lamar dancing with the stars spacex aroldis chapman facebook stock miami heat lea michele katherine jenkins actuary pacers dwts los angeles kings scotty mccreery memorial day phoenix coyotes rsd howard stern
I hate Blacks, the Whites, The Jews, Mosques, Churches, Temples, too. Each Race and Nation, I disdain England, Pakistan, Ukraine. I hate queers, they're deviants Straights are always utter cunts. Stone the women, hang the men, Build a fire for androdgynens. Eat the rich, starve the poor, Bury the pious, bury the whores. Forgive me my Insanity, Cleanse the Earth of humanity. I even hate myself, you see...
neil diamond chaka khan phillip phillips jim parsons steven tyler fantasia facebook lawsuit celtics udonis haslem facebook stock kate gosselin aerosmith michael mckean jordin sparks great gatsby indy 500 bethenny frankel devils memorial day gi joe retaliation Bret Michaels Iceland Stephen Hawking Guru (rapper) Glee (TV series) Kick-Ass (film) Reactive oxygen species Boeing X-37 Jack Kevorkian Nick Clegg Bigotry Volcano Theo van Gogh (film director) B.o.B Volcanic ash Kick Ass British Airways Flight 9 Christina Hendricks Tim Tebow Katla Gang Starr Muhammad Carl Williams (criminal) Dorothy Height Lalit Modi Reactive oxygen species Gerry Ryan May Day Freddy Krueger A Nightmare on Elm Street Suzanne Tamim Exxon Valdez oil spill Expo 2010 Jackie Earle Haley Chelsea Handler
Robert Englund, John Saxon and Johnny Depp, Teens plagued with disturbing dreams as they slept. Taunted by a man scarier than Lex Luger, If he comes while you sleep, his name's Freddy Krueger.
A severely burned figure with razor sharp claws, And if he gets close, you better have gauze. He'll slash you and cut you and rip you to bits, He may even pause to glance at your tits.
Be ready for ole Freddy to visit your dream, He's only imaginary but real he will seem. And if you wake with a rip in your gown, You must not sleep, you mustn't lie down.
From your nightmares -- he will come alive, He's creepier than anything you could contrive. Stay awake if you want to beat this old villain, For once your eyes close, he's ready for killin.
A disfigured face, and his red and green sweater, His metal-clawed glove he loves even better. He will come to you at night when you're fast asleep, Be ready to run, for the wounds will go deep.
He'll stalk you and chase you through the old boiler room, And if he gets close, you may meet your doom. No Doz, Speed..swallow what it may take, To keep you wired and steadfast awake.
His name's Freddy Krueger, he comes in the night, And even though a nightmare, you better take flight. If he catches you, he'll slash you, your maker you'll meet, So DO stay away from Nightmares on Elm Street!
Superstatic invisible oxides... colliding, destroying -- like an atomic war in the tender walls of my thoughtless mitochondria. Devastating catalysts to my DNA, RNA...metabolizing destruction emulating down a dangling electron transport chain of events to spurn creativity while only killing me, as I fight through every round of writer's block.
Free radical testing on gerbils and mice. Aging on a massive level, nibbling on my cellular being like fleas and lice...cloning, creating – growing in a laboratory dish only to decompose as apoptosomes bind, activating germ-like free-floating proteins only to capsize in a sea of denaturation and phagocytosis.
I reach...grasp for a daisy..but my hand comes back with only science -- filling my brain waves with malignant raindrops full of chromosomes screaming to break free from a wall of hydrogen that binds hopes and dreams against an ocean of darkness...where science meets the night and fight or flight -- it explodes with possibilities of both energies yin and yang exposing the powers of survival in perfect balance and then a light goes off in mine eyes -- and I get back to....
Hey Michael I fell asleep last nite before the witching hour so I scribbled one out this morning and then my today's one so now I'm caught up *hopefully* My words are a lil 'out there' but I'm game. d
(sung to the tune of Somebody That I Used to Know)
This Is How We Do It When I Get You Alone Like a Virgin You Just Keep Me Hangin' On Baby Try a Little Tenderness What a Girl Wants Rolling in the Deep Don't Cry for Me, Argentina, You Get What You Give
Papa, Can You Hear Me Over at the Frankenstein Place Singin' in the Rain, Without You, Stayin' Alive She's Not There, Dancing with Myself It's Not Right but It's Okay, Jolene Because You Loved Me I Just Can't Stop Loving You
Don't Stop Believin', Express Yourself I've Gotta Be Me For He's a Jolly Good Fellow Lucky I Just Want to Hold Your Hand What I Did for Love, The Only Exception Paradise by the Dashboard Light Rumour Has It I'll Remember Someone Like You We Got the Beat Sing, Sing, Sing The Glee cast covers songs that I used to know.
The Glee cast covers songs that I used to know. The Glee cast covers songs that I used to know.
EDIT: Finally got to try this with the music. It could have been a bit better -- but it's the thought that counts. If it's any consolation it took me a while to do this.
Changed up the word list. Got rid of wiki trends because they don't change enough. Using google trends and Reference.com trends...
Here's the words...
etan patz times picayune memorial day john legend hakeem nicks million dollar baby bodega miami heat pacers fleet week jim parsons chernobyl bill clinton dwyane wade basketball wives lolo jones spacex allen iverson indiana pacers sugarland Magnanimous Funky Yokel Degrading Chrestomathy Sasquatch Diablo Skydive Canuck Pornographically Prudent Frugal Obtuse Meticulous Egalitarian
(sung to the tune of Somebody That I Used to Know)
This Is How We Do It When I Get You Alone Like a Virgin You Just Keep Me Hangin' On Baby Try a Little Tenderness What a Girl Wants Rolling in the Deep Don't Cry for Me, Argentina, You Get What You Give
Papa, Can You Hear Me Over at the Frankenstein Place Singin' in the Rain, Without You, Stayin' Alive She's Not There, Dancing with Myself It's Not Right but It's Okay, Jolene Because You Loved Me I Just Can't Stop Loving You
Don't Stop Believin', Express Yourself I've Gotta Be Me For He's a Jolly Good Fellow Lucky I Just Want to Hold Your Hand What I Did for Love, The Only Exception Paradise by the Dashboard Light Rumour Has It I'll Remember Someone Like You We Got the Beat Sing, Sing, Sing The Glee cast covers songs that I used to know.
The Glee cast covers songs that I used to know. The Glee cast covers songs that I used to know.
EDIT: Finally got to try this with the music. It could have been a bit better -- but it's the thought that counts. If it's any consolation it took me a while to do this.
Cosmic culmination, a sci-fi Deliverance aka the Dragon...a capsule of cargo shooting through the atmosphere. The stars shake, quake...tremble with fear at a loss of light year as the orbital ship rockets through midnight atop a Falcon 9.
Over my head, beyond the millions of dollars that should be in my grasp this very moment for my slavery to the keyboard, carelessly pushed aside for a commercial spaceship that is called a dragon but doesn't even breathe fire. They call it quantum fluctuations in science, I call it just another story where the writer forgot to write the words FADE OUT.
As it nears the space station, international they call it, NASA's all over it like a maggot on a corpse, the Dragon's only eyes, its thermal imagers...its mission a rendezvous..while I watch all I can think is that I wish this dragon could break free, shatter the chains that hold it captive -- in bondage ...a slave to the dollar and scientific advancement.
And just when “they” think they have this Dragon by the tail, it spins around, turns towards the big planet we call Earth. Free at last, its mouth opens wide. Beautiful flames of red and yellow burst like an enormous torch. And with one final roar, the Dragon...... turns us into ash.
When a buttefly smokes helium and a memory watches TV, I lie facedown in a pool of syrup and Obtuse, he says hi to me.
He says it silently, however Then rain arises from fiery hell where choirs of angels sing of their release and Obtuse, he wishes me well
It's dark, dank and dire where he comes from and the nights they treat you mean He thought that he could help when I called him instead Obtuse, he flees the scene.
Though he imparts me with his motive I'm not sure that I understand but somehow I'll always remember that Obtuse, he is close at hand.
Well done yellow and happy we could inspire a poem out of you Mohammad.
Day 4
The next list of words are the top academic words used by families. Hopefully they might inspire a few others to write some poetry.
analysis approach area assessment assume authority available benefit concept consistent constitutional context contract create data definition derived distribution economic environment established estimate evidence export factors financial formula function identified income indicate individual interpretation involved issues labour legal legislation major method occur percent period policy principle procedure process required research response role section sector significant similar source specific structure theory variable
A methodical way to determine one's self worth, Output...input it's all about weights and measures. Income distribution, per capita sizing us up like gold or silver, Negative effects of classifications and black market economic discrimination.
A lucrative invention of moving stuff, FedEx, UPS, USPS, even Dominos Pizza. The ability of a particle and its changing spatial accessibility, An increase in supply will surely push the gas pedal.
Leading into travel distribution or people moving, Car, boats, planes, trains, even a horse and carriage, if you're Amish. Congestion, pollution, traffic lights, parking tickets, Equates to nothing more than trips generated and probabilities of cost.
And then there is....
Theatrical release, gross ticket sales, opening day at the box, Agents, producers, directors and then distribution. Where one's hours of writing has a single chance to shine brighter than the sun, And travel down that distribution channel of.....sweet success. FADE OUT
and the new sentence begins to ramble on and then off we go to find the meaning of a world I knew when I was told to watch the signs I wasn't older than a child under covers huddled in the night afraid of the light, the flame, the candle burning for the dead instead I searched for that reason, another lonely person who you are on a good day I say is who they aren't on bad days when they rant and shout out an exclamation
Dark clouds loom overhead, A tropical storm's coming they said. They say her name is Beryl, Hope she doesn't leave us in peril.
The wind's starting to pick up, I'm gonna find my red solo cup. And fill it with my favorite plum wine, And on nuts and crackers I'll dine.
While the rain and hail get kickin, To the red box some movies I'm pickin. A night bunking in at the house, With me, my cat and my spouse.
So if yall never see me again, Remember I'm your favorite pale friend. Pale yellow somewhere over the rainbow, With Dorothy, the Wizard and the scarecrow.
Though I don't write poetry. I've enjoyed reading these. There's a connection, I think, between poetry and screenwriting. Both, when they're good, have a rhythm, a kind of beat
Excellent entries from Yellow (Dana, correct?) and Shawn.
And we even have someone named Seven who enjoys reading them. Nothing in this world can make a poet happier.
For today's challenge I want to get emotional....
You can write about any emotion but you have to include the opposite emotion in your poem...
A poem about love must include hate (or as some people say indifference). A poem about happiness must include sadness. It can be any emotion and its opposite counterpart... Go for it.
While skipping through the forest, I came upon a fairy ring and then it dawned on me... How especiallly pumped up I feel this week..this day As if walking on clouds and singing proud.
I mean pure satisfaction like winning the lottery Or even raised up as high as Lucy in the Sky-- but without diamonds... Because I don't even like diamonds and to me Money surely means everything.
Friends are so groovy as sweet as psychedelic miniblinds And I just feel inflated to a point of total contentment... I feel approval all around like falling into a patch of stinging nettles While the pleasurable punctures hurt so good.
Satisfied, content, loved, full of pride and confident... I mean totally -- pumped up!
(sung to the tune of Somebody That I Used to Know)
This Is How We Do It When I Get You Alone Like a Virgin You Just Keep Me Hangin' On Baby Try a Little Tenderness What a Girl Wants Rolling in the Deep Don't Cry for Me, Argentina, You Get What You Give
Papa, Can You Hear Me Over at the Frankenstein Place Singin' in the Rain, Without You, Stayin' Alive She's Not There, Dancing with Myself It's Not Right but It's Okay, Jolene Because You Loved Me I Just Can't Stop Loving You
Don't Stop Believin', Express Yourself I've Gotta Be Me For He's a Jolly Good Fellow Lucky I Just Want to Hold Your Hand What I Did for Love, The Only Exception Paradise by the Dashboard Light Rumour Has It I'll Remember Someone Like You We Got the Beat Sing, Sing, Sing The Glee cast covers songs that I used to know.
The Glee cast covers songs that I used to know. The Glee cast covers songs that I used to know.
EDIT: Finally got to try this with the music. It could have been a bit better -- but it's the thought that counts. If it's any consolation it took me a while to do this.
I know it's crazy how long doing that can take. One of the reasons I haven't gotten seduced by "the bug" this time round.
Good job, Michael. I definitely remember Bat out of Hell.
Maybe in the future when I'm feeling the desire to ride in a yellow school bus, I'll try and watch Glee. In the meantime:
Sorry for my lack of involvement up to this point! Haven't had any time at all -- unexpectedly -- but have looked back now and really enjoyed the poems up till now. "Psychedelic miniblinds" is a stand-out little gem of word construction, by my count; and "crinkles on my forehead" is one of my favourite images!
Seventh Son
When he stands over the stretched figure there’s a calmness in his hands that belies his sword’s hilt, crusted with blood where his twine-wrapped fingers clenched and dripped through the clamour of violence against the other, when armies clash at the forefront of spit-flecked condemnation and the cast of words is bent from the iron of intent to the melting red splash of the cries that he calls noble, just as others call him. His hands move so softly now that they can call him no other. His fingers trace the man’s broken skin with such fragile venom as the winds seed the desert they caress from rise to fall with the desire to hold to earth and to form skyward, and his hands upturn in such compassion that the sigh yielded from the wounded as his body is returned is the glowing thankfulness of conviction.
Seven wise sages uncover the truth in a crypt only seven could find One of the sages ran off with some proof that exploded in his face, now he's blind.
Six wise sages split up all the facts in what was supposedly even shares One of the sages was given the axe when another sage split his hairs.
Five wise sages have carried their find to their homes on each corner of the globe One of those sages began to unwind and was relieved of his frontal lobe.
Four wise sages try to find their nook as their veracity they debate One of those sages writes a tell-all book And quite promptly that sage becomes late.
Three wise sages feel fear for their lives when they finally do all of the math One of those sages he plays with some knives and he cuts himself bad in the bath.
Two wise sages know that one wants it all and decide they should fight to the death One of those sages, he hires Darth Maul to use the dark side on the sage left.
One wise sage he buries the truth after a death that nature assigned among his bones therein lies the proof in a crypt only seven could find.
Rain in my eyes, seven days it-- pours down from the heavens above. I hear a scream so giant coming from a tiny lady bug—luck is the lady bug so I dive into a shimmering puddle and scoop her up. Her winged back adorns seven perfect black dots. She smiles, eyes of compassion and flies into a gray sky that turns to blue. In the water's reflection, it hits me like a pot of gold, no more than a taffy rainbow of sparkling red, orange, yellow green, blue, indigo, and violet. I reach in my pocket and pull out seven skittles and toss them down, the seeds of life. I call for the steeds and they arrive, shod in gold...my chariot awaits and I pull the card only to discover a goblet filled with nitrogen. We gallop through the wooded splendor, the fae look upon the golden coach, and as we pass a village gnome hiding in the brush, there they are...Bashful, Doc, Dopey, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy and Sneezy...the seven dwarfs. None of them with the name Rumpis. Snow white awakens, calls for the Seven Lucky Gods and they arrive in an ornate treasure ship guarded by the seven sleepers. And then the sandman sprinkles his dust, seven grains of it, and mine eyes grow tired, and all I can think of is seven things I need to do tomorrow. And sleep comes, at least seven hours of it.
Little tired to be writing tonight but......
My name consists of four letters and my birthday is on the 3rd day … 3+4=7 My husband's middle name is Seven. Both 3 and 7 have been very magical numbers in my life.
This is the Michael and Dena show, so I thought I would jump in.
I look outside to a sheet of white Snow it is, for it is bright A little sticky like some Honeydew, With a hint of MintCream that turns Alice Blue, Or maybe Azure, no that isn`t right, Seashell, Whitesmoke, nah more Ghostwhite Beige it is not, for that`s merely a tan OldLace is a character for you comic book fans, Floral`s a pattern, while Ivory`s off-white, Antique, is that old snow? That would be a site. Not as much as what made the Lavender Blush When Linen and MistyRose showed off their tush!
Women, I am told, can tell the difference between Chartreuse and Lawn Green, though they look the same to me. When I am hit, I say just that, that I have been hit. I wonder if women Have deeper words to go with their deeper appreciation of colours. Not just hit or struck or punched or socked or smashed but words, thin words that teeter on each miniscule point of a looming iron scale of the qualities of violence, words that shiver together in the cold. I wonder if the scale they can see is so large that it stretches out of imagination like water running down all sides of an upturned bowl, or if there is smallness in the paint that cannot warm the walls so that no-one can discern it.
Welcome Mark and Heretic! Good stuff! I haven't much energy left today been hanging with a queen vampire and me not have any bloods left *sigh* but I'm gonna try.
She lays in a silk laden coffin, Her pale face divided by a solid line of red. As leftover blood... my blood paints a line of satisfaction from her lips.
I struggle to lick the energy from the sunshine while she sleeps, I trample across the broken mirror scattered over the marble foyer. My feet shredded, red blood stains the veins in the floor but I don't stop A roofie typed trance enhanced by a blood red full blown panic attack.
I run...scream...the pseudo stratified columnar epithelium in my throat-- inflamed, As the sun shines through the fat rain drops on the window pain, there's no time like the present... And with the night –she rises again, and this time I mustn't be her bullseye in the clover.
I hide in mine own mind, surrounded by bats and fireflies, struggling to make it to the door, Out of harms way, a mushroom under a giant, and the magical kind of spore with possibilities. If only I could make it –far far away, from this toxic, blood thirsty red eyed queen of demons, Her only love-- to suck the last drop of plasma-- tip the scale of my colloidal osmotic pressure.
But once again, the sunlight kisses my face as she starts to come alive in her tomb, It's a race –I'm the turtle and she is the hare times a hundred but I have the light on my face... In my eyes...in my heart...it burns the nostalgia paralyzation from my bones, my cold body warms As the cells regenerate, my heart pumps red life through a venous network and then there is warmth...
In my body....as I reach the exit –freedom but the devil is persistent, erect she climbs from casket, The race continues, I fight something that isn't there but that sucks the very life out of me, My mind cries, my eyes scream, and my lips –do nothing but quiver and she gains on my slow motion She grabs me, hunts my jugular –but my strength returned ...enough to pull her into the light of day...
The sun kisses her skin with pleasure...And while she burns....I smile-- saved once again from that toxic red vamp knowing she will... one day...hunt again.
The world stops like a film frame when I look in your dark magenta eyes in the sky at night, all its purple stolen from the stars by seagulls who make the wind do their bidding I look deep into your eyes so dark where colors dance on flames of light in the sky at night where stolen purple rises from the sea to fill the gaps between the clouds that could be used as jewels by native Americans before they knew they were indigenous when they loved the land that rises from the sea to mountains made of snow white snow or are they clouds before they're tooled by trickster seagulls who bid the wind to take them up to summits unreachable as naked men then again, in your dark magenta eyes anything is possible.
i passed a drug test so i could work in a factory i hate
A place where everyone brags about how much they drink.
Just shoot me now.
Worst poem ever, I know. But the images reminded me of a rorschach test. And after having just worked a 12 hour shift at my new job, that's what came to mind.
Seven, I like that one! Its wry humour, and of course its relatability, make it very satisfying.
---
Rorschach
When he sees those ink blotches scattered across the page like dead insects he wants to reach down with hard fingers and push the liquid skeleton of individuals into the same shape so that, bones backwards and joints lolling and legs twisted into errant smiles, he can pick them up by one, all ranked and formed, and push teeth into them and make them all whole.
Moth... moth... butterfly... butterfly... beautiful pregnant butterfly... young mean moth... new born monarch... moth... moth... moth hitting me... moth... moth... broken winged monarch... moth... moth... butterfly leaving... moth... dead old moth... beaten scarred monarch... new cocoon... butterfly... beautiful new butterfly
Stained...interpretation into the unknown universe... Disorder in the daisy patch as sprites flutter above... A firefly spits inky black into a sea of neutral... Marshmallows of insight roast upon a stick of dynamite... Tanner than a pale yellow and the fire dances combustible dope... Blotting...blogging....prodding...flogging.... Cat'o nine tails laps a sea of oblivion but the ink doesn't stop... It drops like rain among the multitude...brains of stain.... The black clogs the white, as good evil does fight.... A battle of nine lives but the cat coughs up a hairball.... The universe on the floor, drowning in the inky shadows... Ice skating on quarters the size of half dollars where money doesn't matter... And insurance isn't assurance and life never ends but is infinite.... In the ink...a finger...it draws a horizontal figure eight on the clouds.... To infinity and beyond, and I'm not even a light year buzzed... No wood in the furnace but a monster in the closet... The ink runs down the clouds, lands on my wings... Like a bird soaked in oil, I fall crashing to the ocean of blackness... With a splash like the biggest bang, all the ink disappears …. Leaving only white paper....and in the right corner … A blot of black ink, left, at the end of it all ...and I swear it says............ FADE OUT
Thanks people. And wow, all of the above poems are well done, fun to read. Ledbetter's I read machine gun like, like the cat pictured in his avatar. Had me laughing.
Heretic's was very descriptive. It could inspire a script.
Pale Yellow's, another one that made me smile. It felt freeing to read, as if nothing was held back -- this is the mood I want to be in when I finally return to writing!
Micahael's, well constructed, well thought out with an ending I wasn't expecting but very much liked.
From the day we arrive on the planet And blinking, step into the sun There's more to be seen than can ever be seen More to do than can ever be done
Some say eat or be eaten Some say live and let live But all are agreed as they join the stampede You should never take more than you give In the circle of life It's the wheel of fortune It's the leap of faith It's the band of hope Till we find our place On the path unwinding In the circle, the circle of life
Some of us fall by the wayside And some of us soar to the stars And some of us sail through our troubles And some have to live with the scars
There's far too much to take in here More to find than can ever be found But the sun rolling high through the sapphire sky Keeps great and small on the endless round
Okay, I know it was wrong to lift Elton John’s “Circle of Life”
I know it was wrong, Michael, but you and Pale have taken over the poem challenge and I felt scared.
Okay? There I said it! I was afraid… I was… I am… Wait, stop… I feel a poem… Or a soliloquy It’s not a haiku But, if you’ll let me, I’ll tell it to you
I said from the very start, My need for the word Nantucket So there, I just said it It felt good, so fock it
This tryst shows of late Lovers of poems each a wait Not for the next challenged attempt But only that their poem was great
So, I bid you a fond adieu And ask only one small thing of you That when this is through Delete the c rap I wrote As you famously always do
To all my Simply Scripters To the lovers and the bitchurs It’s been great to write a poem Because this writer has a home