Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion
Weekly Poetry Stuffage
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Week 141 (October 15-22). Poems. Topic: Morgue.
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How refreshing to see both my favorite 'Alex quotos' in one post! And Alex, how long have I got, before you close this thread for submission? I have a draft, but needs some major patch work. But I am still at work :(
I agree with M and Guy on the wonderful set of poems this week. I'l get back with proper comments when I finish up mine. (Hopefully in time).
Thank you all so much for your wonderfully encouraging words at a time in my life when I feel ready to just toss in the towel and go back to reading and longing to play the piano that my hand no longer allows me to do. (As you an see I am in the midst of a lively (!) self-pity party. For some reason or other my poem for this topic was posted twice, (how Freudian can one get?) so I erased one. I don't think they were any different, but if they were, so be it. I left the first one in.
Still wish I could vote for more than one. . .
When you feel like throwing in the towel, that means your getting close to hitting pay dirt.
And I love you too, Alex. <3 And all of you little pirates. ;D
Slow Fuse Quick SandWe weren't 'from' here, to own a berth
I.Slow Fuse
Death was a hand made envelope; and
it housed a pulp inside, which fluttered.
A butterfly on fire sprung up, with a placard.
A message in bloated red-ink:
'The postman's bike has a backseat, take it'.
We entered a tunnel. No sign of light nor end.
Grey screens everywhere. Crumbled strands of
yore rolled on from an off-beat source, a projector.
A slow fuse neo-noir. A precarious opening. The tiny
me somersaulting in my mother's sanctum. Later on, I trade
a blow. Arrows from a plastic bow. Blown birthday balloons
enact a Normandy-landing atop the birthday cake. I hide
behind the fine linen of my father's suit. He blocks away
my furious mother. A bump in the road. The screen
whisks me away to my first date. The girl's a peach. I pocket
my hands to hide those sweltering palms. She recites her
poetry. Something about 'pink apples and silver streams'.
Another bump in the road yet another crumbled strand.
The end credits roll up. The audience move on. A tear.
II.Quick Sand
Birth. Death. After life. Life after.
Morgues, then coffins. Fire, then ash.
Crafted in personalized semantics.
Orchestrated in standardized timbre.
All of us, may be portals. Attached
yet detached. We are seeds. A few
weeds. We seed. They breed.
Wonder, who engineered the seeds?
The insides must have been ploughed.
May be, through the whip of a cattle.
The way we coil inside.
The sway we flaunt outside.
Stars, scars, czars:
Blink into the same riddle.
Grass, brass, glass:
Sink into the same puddle.
Tangled branches and mangled
tranches. A clap and a snap.
Another seed. The same cattle
yet another battle. A rattle.
Some of us, flowers. The other us,
thick thickets. Brick heads.
A few thorns and horns.
Long brooms keep gathering ash.
Our ash. Our mud. Our blood. In the
end, we'll be unhinged and scattered.
Like the whole of a composting tomato.
-Ajay
22nd October,2012.
Nice to know we make a difference in the end Ajay ;D
:) Yes, Christa. We always make a difference, I believe.
Do you? I got the impression from your poem we all end up the same."Our ash. Our mud. Our blood. In the
end, we'll be unhinged and scattered.
Like the whole of a composting tomato."
pretty much, we all end up dead and composting the earth. Which I guess is pretty true. Or maybe I am just missing the point, I do that quite a lot.
Ajay, which of the poems are you posting for the contest?
Yes, Christa. I don't think you missed the point. I believe, even the tiniest contribution would count, in the grand scheme of things. At least that's what I attempted to write about. If that doesn't come across clearly, then the poem as a whole has failed.
Actually, both are parts of the same poem, M. I am submitting it as a whole. I hope this doesn't get disqualified!
Ajay, just add the letter 'I' in front of 'Slow Fuse' and 'II' in front of 'Quick Sand'.Ajay! I am sure that my reaction to 'Quick Sand' is highly inappropriate, but its lively playfulness made me laugh out loud! The interweaving of the profane, and mundane, the urbane and insane, was a great word dance. Of course, you are playing to my weakness for word play, and so, thank you! So much fun.
Paula, as M wrote, lightness comes from the other side of the dark times. And pretty much all of us non-sainted humans have been more often then we'd like to admit been bemired in our tiny silly little ego's inflated sense of self-importance in the world. LoL. Yes, our poor little deluded egos, running around as if the sun was just an afterthought. Really, it is too too funny.
:) Thank you, Alex. Am glad! I always have that feeling of insecurity after writing anything. A bit too self-conscious I guess. I'm trying to drop that.
:) Thank you, Guy! I just edited it back with I and II. I am really glad that it made you laugh, that's definitely a huge compliment. Thanks again!
And wow, Guy! As usual, your poem blew me away! ''What's Left But the Bones: Cotton for Comfort Redux'' was just awesome! It's everything that I wish my writing would turn into! Brilliant!
Yes, Alex! Please do something about it! Just sprinkle some magic dust on me or something. I don't even mind sneezing for a week or so! Hehe.
Hahahah..sorry. Mwahahaha! But where is 'Anyway'!? :) Poor old Anyway!
Anyway. Goodnight Alex! Do let the bed bugs bite, the poor dears, might be starving!
Thank you Al, for spreading your magical dust. I've gone around with my little dust buster because my friend needs some too.Ajay, glad you enjoyed Bones. And don't feel insecure about your writing, it is a pleasure to read.
This is going to be a hard voting week! (And it is nice to be back here in the WSS! Oh frabjous day/Callooh Callay!)
Ajay wrote: "Yes, Christa. I don't think you missed the point. I believe, even the tiniest contribution would count, in the grand scheme of things. At least that's what I attempted to write about. If that doesn..."Oh no, I really liked it. And I agree with you. I can see it clearer now I re-read it. Great poem :D
Hi Ajay. While there is always room for a bit of humility in life, insecurity and self-consciousness are two things you DEFINITELY don't need. Mate, in the short time I have been here (goodreads, I mean) I've had the pleasure to read a number of poems you've written. And, I've got to tell you, I have read nothing that is short of absolutely brilliant. You constantly breathe life into your words and create vibrant and colorful imagery. The thing I like the most is the fresh and unique voice you have. I consider myself fairly well-read and you have a style and grace that is your's alone. That's probably enough sunshine-blowing for one post, just wanted to clear that up! Cheers mate.
Hehe. Thanks, Alex. I did have a good night's sleep! :)
Thanks Guy and Christa! I'm really glad that you like my writing!
Hello Ryan. My apologies for this rather belated 'welcome note'. A warm welcome to the W.S.S. from my end too! And thanks a lot for your words of encouragement. I really appreciate it! You are far too kind. And I also wanted to say that, I did enjoy your poems here and in the other group. Loved them infact! Thanks again for brightening up my day with your message. Cheers.
And the Winner is:Frozen by Alex, followed by What's Left by the Bone by Guy, Goodbye by Thomas the Panda, and What Need Have We for Morgues? by Paula.
Thank you all who made this an excellent week.
Yes, M. this has been an excellent crop of poems.