You should attempt to write a poem inspired by this topic -- not a derivative, literal
interpretation of the topic. Create a poem that reflects your own true self.
--> Since the officious rules of PWoF 2016 stipulate that you can submit more than
one poem; may I suggest, if the fit strikes you, that you include, after your major work,
a second poem consisting of a bit of transient doggerel, a limerick, or a trenchant
end-rhyming nonsense poem that somehow reflects the intention of this topic.
(And for anyone who's a bit uncertain about starting out here: Ignore my bullshite and
just string some words together (that's what everybody else is doing ).
Topic 4:
While it's obvious that too much constraint decreases creativity, it turns out that
(backed up by numerous scientific studies) a moderate amount of constraint increases it.
An example of this in writing is the famous "blank page problem", in which writer's block is
induced by the freedom of being able to write about anything in the universe (though you're
not totally without constraints, as you at least know that you're trying to write a short-story,
novel, poem, essay, etc.). In poetry a typical constraint is adopting a poetic form, such as a
sonnet, a villanelle (horrors) or a limerick. (See, free verse really is hard to write as you
must labour to find and remove the boat-loads of cliché too much freedom engenders.)
In PWoF our given constraints are: Writing to a particular topic, and having to do it within
24 hours. For this topic we are going to adopt an additional constraint.
This days topic: Write a poem inspired by death.
Additional constraint: All the words in the poem may not contain the letter "e".
(This particular constraint comes from a Wikipedia article about "constrained writing" which
you can find here.
I'm already experiencing brain-weirdness, maybe the result of all that extra creativity pouring in?
a brightly colored fungus that grows in bark inclusions
Santa Cruz boardwalk music sounds
through crowds; uproar of asthmatic
swing turning back my clock, and
country, to Blossom Fair, gala
holiday, a warm spring night.
Too old for childish play, but
you wouldn’t stop, way
past midnight, lolling on
roundabout mounts missing
paint, grasping for gold.
Again you snatch, again you fall.
I still can’t call a warning, my throat
too dry, too numb. Again I watch
your slow drop, can’t look away,
music still playing as you lay
in moonlight, shadows stippling
your body, gash of dark blood
in your hair.
Stains on morning clouds.
I always think of you
as this music plays.
(09-25-2016, 04:59 PM)just mercedes Wrote: Watching a young man, dying
Santa Cruz boardwalk music sounds
through crowds; uproar of asthmatic
swing turning back my clock, and
country, to Blossom Fair, gala
holiday, a warm spring night.
Too old for childish play, but
you wouldn’t stop, way
past midnight, lolling on
roundabout mounts missing
paint, grasping for gold.
Again you snatch, again you fall.
I still can’t call a warning, my throat
too dry, too numb. Again I watch
your slow drop, can’t look away,
music still playing as you lay
in moonlight, shadows stippling
your body, gash of dark blood
in your hair.
Stains on morning clouds.
I always think of you
as this music plays.
This is just excellent, really well done.
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
09-25-2016, 07:28 PM (This post was last modified: 09-25-2016, 07:29 PM by RiverNotch.)
pbfbflfbtlfbtfttftftftftftft*
tourist's complaint
what is, what was -- what youth -- what
caught arrows in his guard, what split
arms, spilt blood -- gods, to bring back Troilus
in a cart? what shit timing
for that wanton bastard king
to hold unfaithful girls
as barns hold cows -- and in
my first vacation day in months!
*i think a thing brok[e]
although goodn--s m-, what skill all thos- b-for- m-'d shown --- dang, mayb- i shoulda push-d hard-r
A shadow of night is coming for you
don’t try to run, don’t start his fun
and don’t show him if you cry
your blood pounds out a rhythmic song
which calls to him and draws him in
soft sound as his foot draws nigh
That phantom of old will find you out
can follow your sigh it's his lullaby
a snuffling shuffling footfall sounds
quick as a thought his hand will clamp
a laugh on your skin, a prick of a pin
now black of night surrounds
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara
It’s with us all today
not just an oarsman
back from rowing, but
young lads jumping surf
girls playing with rag dolls
unknowing but all full
with instinct this bright dawn
has night. So play and laugh
always saluting its soft fall.
L2-3 inspired by the justly famous
Death is before me today:
Like the recovery of a sick man,
Like going forth into a
garden after sickness.
Death is before me today:
Like the odor of myrrh,
Like sitting under a sail
in a good wind.
Death is before me today:
Like the course of a stream,
Like the return of a man
from the war-galley to
his house.
Death is before me today:
Like the home that a man longs to see,
After years spent as a captive.
12 months counting lasts
11 days and whrinkling lungs
10 hours, night approaching
9 final circles on the clock
8 spots I can't witness
7 thoughts not worth saying
6 satans in my gut
5 saints spitting back
4 bits of food in my gums
3 pricks in my arms
2 flashing lights
1 last air
0 harbors sailing to
@cvanshelton - Excellent, both. The senryu scene and backstory; the other, desolation: can words be monochrome?
@justmercedes - Absence of a certain vowel was certainly no handicap. Terrific!
@rivernotch - Maybe. Balloon simile: this exercise felt like blowing up a balloon (by mouth) - at first seems impossible, too hard!, then easier, then deleriously simple and expansive until the lungs run out and the damn thing tries to blow you up instead. @rayheinrich - Good challenge.
@Quixilated - Goblin tempo, very fun (in its way). Read somewhere ("The Secret Life of Cats," was it?) that when a lion has dragged a man into the bushes it plays with him, purring (very deeply), patting and stroking - petting, you might say, just bumping back and forth with claws retracted. As told by a survivor, obviously. Reminded me of that.
@kolemath - Clever structure, echoing the challenge (limts and constraints). 1 last air - see above re balloons.
That was Lenny Bruce, with a condom over his tongue, performing at Mr Kellys in Rush Street Chicago, during the stand-off over the Cuban missiles crisis in 1962.
That was Lenny Bruce, with a condom over his tongue, performing at Mr Kellys in Rush Street Chicago, during the stand-off over the Cuban missiles crisis in 1962.
I do not want the pain to go, nor vanish out of sight. I'll keep it with me, so I'll know; cos' I remember love, so long ago, she taught me what was right; but, I don't want the pain to go. She told me time goes to and fro on a transatlantic flight. I'll keep it with me, so I'll know. We argued Rope or Vertigo?
then lost the will to fight; but, I don't want the pain to go. "Sometimes", she said, "love just don't grow", in the middle of the night. I'll keep it with me, so I'll know. She left and took tomorrow and it's little crack of light; but, I don't want the pain to go, I'll keep it with me, so I'll know.
Ray!! I wanna say hang the rules and post whatever I want too!!
But, seriously, this assignment is making me wonder if I have a single creative bone in my body, since it's supposed to allow that impulse to run free?
(09-26-2016, 04:40 AM)dukealien Wrote: @rivernotch - Maybe. Balloon simile: this exercise felt like blowing up a balloon (by mouth) - at first seems impossible, too hard!, then easier, then deleriously simple and expansive until the lungs run out and the damn thing tries to blow you up instead. @rayheinrich - Good challenge.
(09-26-2016, 09:18 AM)lizziep Wrote: Ray!! I wanna say hang the rules and post whatever I want too!!
But, seriously, this assignment is making me wonder if I have a single creative bone in my body, since it's supposed to allow that impulse to run free?
(09-26-2016, 04:40 AM)dukealien Wrote: @rivernotch - Maybe. Balloon simile: this exercise felt like blowing up a balloon (by mouth) - at first seems impossible, too hard!, then easier, then deleriously simple and expansive until the lungs run out and the damn thing tries to blow you up instead. @rayheinrich - Good challenge.
(09-26-2016, 09:18 AM)lizziep Wrote: Ray!! I wanna say hang the rules and post whatever I want too!!
But, seriously, this assignment is making me wonder if I have a single creative bone in my body, since it's supposed to allow that impulse to run free?
(09-26-2016, 04:40 AM)dukealien Wrote: @rivernotch - Maybe. Balloon simile: this exercise felt like blowing up a balloon (by mouth) - at first seems impossible, too hard!, then easier, then deleriously simple and expansive until the lungs run out and the damn thing tries to blow you up instead. @rayheinrich - Good challenge.
Slow clap, Duke. Well said.
fuck the rules.
[/quote]
Lizzie, when in doubt ask yourself "What would Henry Rollins do?"
(09-26-2016, 09:18 AM)lizziep Wrote: Ray!! I wanna say hang the rules and post whatever I want too!!
But, seriously, this assignment is making me wonder if I have a single creative bone in my body, since it's supposed to allow that impulse to run free?
(09-26-2016, 04:40 AM)dukealien Wrote: @rivernotch - Maybe. Balloon simile: this exercise felt like blowing up a balloon (by mouth) - at first seems impossible, too hard!, then easier, then deleriously simple and expansive until the lungs run out and the damn thing tries to blow you up instead. @rayheinrich - Good challenge.
Slow clap, Duke. Well said.
fuck the rules.
Lizzie, when in doubt ask yourself "What would Henry Rollins do?"
[/quote]
He would......follow the rules to the letter or lack thereof?
Oh, he would fuck them. Damn.
I always get that question wrong.
(09-26-2016, 04:40 AM)dukealien Wrote: @cvanshelton - Excellent, both. The senryu scene and backstory; the other, desolation: can words be monochrome?
@justmercedes - Absence of a certain vowel was certainly no handicap. Terrific!
@rivernotch - Maybe. Balloon simile: this exercise felt like blowing up a balloon (by mouth) - at first seems impossible, too hard!, then easier, then deleriously simple and expansive until the lungs run out and the damn thing tries to blow you up instead. @rayheinrich - Good challenge.
@Quixilated - Goblin tempo, very fun (in its way). Read somewhere ("The Secret Life of Cats," was it?) that when a lion has dragged a man into the bushes it plays with him, purring (very deeply), patting and stroking - petting, you might say, just bumping back and forth with claws retracted. As told by a survivor, obviously. Reminded me of that.
@kolemath - Clever structure, echoing the challenge (limts and constraints). 1 last air - see above re balloons.
This damn prompt:
blowing up a balloon
so much it kills you
). 
Well said.
![[Image: what-would-henry-rollins-do-henry-rollin...50-566.jpg]](https://livehighfive.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/what-would-henry-rollins-do-henry-rollins-9286479-450-566.jpg)