Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion

LOL!
Thank you everyone. Such a treat. I missed you guys and this thread.

Her duvet lay white
while large snow flakes blanketed
the land with quiet.

(Welcome back, Guy! Very nice haiku.)


Always a dreamer,
fair as can be. Awaits a
kiss to set her free.

Apple cider dreams
of a mirror's betrayal,
the friendship of dwarves.

Dawn to dusk they slaved,
the dwarves, and brought her fine capes
and long, silken scarves.

"A child labor case?"
The lawyer asked the dwarf in
shorts and pony tail.

Please ignore :D Good morning!

Haha! That's wonderful! Good morning to you too, Leslie. Good morning, M.

Good morning, Ryan and Leslie!

“A bath, a scrubbing,
and a rinse,” said counsel, “will
be your best defense.”

If that doesn't wash
we'll try the Wonka Defense,
bane of Loompaland.

[[LOL!]]


The wanton wanker
would not willingly unwash
his willy wonka.

He finally cleansed,
what a surprise! A golden
ticket tucked inside!

LOL!
Nice Ryan.

Fool's gold, it turned out
to truly be: A coupon
To get a filling.

((I have no idea what that was. Sorry, I've never written a Haiku before XP))

(Excellent, Angie!)

((Thanks, M!))

((For Guy))

Guy, our wanderer
Hamlet-watching wonderer
Why are stars so blue?

I did not know that
stars were blue. I had thought that
them yellow or white.

Have I long been wrong?
I'm more than a bit confused.
Truth has turned a lie.

I must admit that
Astronomy is not my
strongest suit at all.

((Idk if confused is one syllable or two))

[[Excellent first and second efforts, Angie! And the syllabication for the Haiku is a short hand for metrical feet; which are not quite the same as syllables. M can give a much better description: it relates to the movement of tongue and breath.]]

[[Thank you Lillian! I was wondering about you the other day, having missed talking with you.]]

[[Guy, so a new foot (is that right?) is just whenever the sound changes?))

[[Angie, not quite. It has to do with how the tongue moves from the back of the mouth to the front (or something like that). M is far better at these fine details than me. The take away is that words like confused that confuse the syllable count, can be counted either way.]]

[[For Lillian]]



I at one time went
to the time when stars were blue.
I went to learn why.

I came from blue stars
with an answer beyond words
and useless knowledge.

I look at letters,
and now wonder what they mean
without the blue* stars.

[*fushigi? I don't know if this qualifies, but… It was odd.
"...that's why I feed them blue." I heard this being spoken just as I was finishing the last line. It was in a TV ad about blue pet food. It came on the tv behind me, which I almost never have on. I don't remember having heard that ad before. Not sure if this is a fusigi but definitely odd. Oh! For those unfamiliar with fushigi here is a link to its definition.]

I think in terms of feet when I’m writing these things only because I write them as a different kind of verse that I post to look like 5-7-5. I don’t think of them as haiku because, to me, authentic haiku is something alien to the Western mind.

The idea isn’t to write them using metrical feet, but merely according to syllable count. I find that the most effective of those posted in the W.S.S. are made up of one sentence, with each line a unit complete in its own way rather than merely running on to the next (i.e., it isn’t a sentence simply chopped up into lengths of 5-7-5). Ryan, Jim, and Guy have written some exceptional examples.

Thanks, M. That really helps :)

I think these little verses are great exercises in economy and are worth doing merely to sharpen your writing.

Here are a few I’ve picked quickly from copious quantity posted in the last year. Many of them don’t seem to me particularly good 5-7-5’s but come across to me as interesting writing. Notice that, in general, the writing becomes more effective the more it uses specific, concrete images to deliver the message, and implication and symbolism to give it depth. It may be a misperception on my part, but it seems to me that the constraint imposed by the form tends to make the writing style stand out.


Ryan

No matter how hot / the iron, birthday suits seem / to gather wrinkles.

A martini swim, / while good for the skin, can leave / your Dorian gray.
Much better, I think, / to limit your drink and learn / a Lydian A...

’twas a southerly / breeze, past her knees, that told her / her knickers were gone.

under the bleachers / red faced and fumbling, she asked / - is this your first time?

with dustpan and brush / the forensic officer / collected my thoughts

in tree house shadows / she stepped shyly from her clothes / and i from my youth


Guy

The ship wrecked sailor / shaved her star-crossed sea legs / in the lost lagoon.

I am the writer / who swears that eating curses / helps create verses.
Thus I do spite her, / my muse who calls for Circe’s / word-bound black hearses.

Her crawl to the pub / foreshadows a fruitless night / and guttural dreams.

The old Egyptian / was found sitting on the can / wrapped up in Charmin.

Alit with her smile / her bright eyes sought to un-ink / from his eyes despair. / The empty wine bottle case / filled him with dark thoughts of her.

His hair stood on end / when the dog’s leash let go / and his teeth did not.

She sits down with me / to survey the sink's bottom. / She touches the new pipes. / ‘You are a man, after all,’ / she says before I can belch.


Jim

so like his mother’s / the hand that holds a dry leaf / too soon before fall

warm sand and sea foam / bulge into limbs and torsos / beached clothes breathe in, out

grass grips church rubble / decades after the bombs fell / hear the headless choir

sheep, goat, skinny cows / nibbling green, flaps of garbage / cars blur citybound

she snaps dry breadsticks / watches crumbs scatter around / her plate a full moon

twilight used to be / a nice word for me until / no, let's not go there


Kat

sterile medical / slabs are for more than scattered / bones and dead bodies.

a promise made in / the depths of night; a word bro- / ken by light of day.

the promise of life / slips away with every piece / of hair falling out.


Ajay

Google pointed her / to the casting directors / of Hysteria.


Paula

Book review posted. / No greater feeling than that; / Because it's over.
Do reviews matter? / If no one reads the review / Was the book written?
You can tell I'm tired / I have sunk so low as to / think this is Haiku.


Bregus

The vantage of heels. / Her fake fur coat and my robe. / Glimpses of ankles!


Leslie

Her scent lingered in / broad daylight. Her presence did / nothing but bruise me.

Cooked to perfection, / She left nothing but crumbs of / desire and despair.

With such great speed, he / dodges the shoe thrown by his wife- / a sport he's good at.

she glides barefoot through / high beams in search for something / more precious than heels


Alex

His face, smug, looking / at me with desire, turns a / hue of red when slapped.

If I fall silent, / I’ve fallen asleep on my / quite wearisome keys.

Beadle, beadle, short / and fat. Bury your dead quick / in the earthen slat.
Ring your bell for all / in hell. Ring it loud to ward / off the black cloaked rat.

I saw him flash a / muscled leg, hairy and trim / from the open door.
He called my name and / flicked his foot kicking off / a crimson laced pump.
And from on his leg / he rolled off, tempting me, a / long black fishnet sock.

He dropped his wine, reached / for it with haste, his pants tight / around his round waist.
He thought as he reached / for the cup, that he should / have gone a size up.


Stephanie

After Paris I / could not help but see Rome. And / there I stayed for years.
Flowers grew between / ancient walls, speaking of men. / Gladiators died.
Where those men died, the / odor remained for many / days. Now it is gone.

Swearing softly, I / quickly look up and smile, / nervously waiting.

Falling into the / clear, river water I lost / my sweet, small daughter.


Lillian

She’s gorgeous, of course / For him to love a woman / She must not be me

Madame and mistress / Oh! The names that she is called / Yet love is not one


Ellis

Like in old cartoons / I’m wishing something to fall, / refrigerator?

Pen, tracing paper, / and a cold window to draw / the vast world outside.

(seagull with extreme / diarrhea barely finds / crowded beach on time)

In black stilettos / she's making shish-kabobs / from abandoned hearts

ghosts behind the trees / the seasonal masquerade / footprints in the snow


Daniel

I watched the daylight / Tear colors from twisted trees / --Wrapping paper fall.


Zack

the magician reached / into his mangled top hat / and pulled out dinner


Kisha

Breeze, winds, and cold chills, / Bundled up in winter gear, / Fall in Ohio.


Belly

building sandcastles / not far from a dragon’s skull / alone on the beach


Robyn

Gnats stuck in my teeth / Hair whipping across my face / Top down and speeding

Thank you for all the helpful insights, M. I'll try to keep them in mind. Merry Christmas :)

Merry Christmas, Angie!

M, what a delightful anthology! (But you didn't include any of your own!)

M, thank you :)) hug!!

Thank you, M. I really enjoyed (re)reading those.

It is an impossible task to attempt to condense the 5-7-5 verse M has posted into a few lines. There are SO many witty, clever, wonderful and just plain Emily ones he's written. These are some of the early ones that got me hooked on the thread initially.

They are wonderful on their own and even better in context. I didn't even get past page 30, find my favorite or an Emily Blunt verse but I'll have to stop somewhere. I think I need to go back and re-visit the entire thread.

M

I like to wrap up / in a suave, blanket statement / when things get chilly.

It was like a scene / from an old film flickering / on a silent screen.

Her fate in her hands / her fingers in her long hair / moonlight on the strands.

Skeletons played oboes,/ violins, making macabre / music by Saint-Saens.

These were amber days / of thin, tempera shadows / and dappled evenings.

The moonlight pearl-like / on her hair, she casts her nets / by the old sea stair.

a beat-copper moon / an obsidian ocean / a white spire of sail

Thank you Ryan! I wanted to do this last night, but that was at 1:00 am and I went to bed instead. Excellent selection.

Angie, good as these are on their own -- and they are excellent -- they are even better read within the context of the thread.

Yes, Ryan, it is time to re-read the thread. Again.

I have been rereading some of the comments. I'm a few pages on. But there's a lot to process o_O

Thank you, Ryan! An excellent selection.

Poor Angie! Imagine what a bad influence we’ll be.

Haha :)

Lol! You'll be fine, Angie :P I'm sure you'll have fun.

Entering the WSS haiku thread is like going waking up inside an episode of the twilight zone: you will be irrevocably changed. Your perception of reality will be unsettled, and truth and beauty forever corrupted.

Of course, you may also die laughing. But that would be just the side benefit.

You may wind up watching episodes of the original “Star Trek” series, or paying dubious respects to grave markers.

He took a journey
down memory lane, looking
for his lost marbles.

a shiny one caught
his eyes, only to see up
close that it was cracked

In that tiny crack,
lived a world unto itself,
tiny marble world.

On marble counters,
marble floors, how morning light
steals in on all fours!

Mop, sweep, wash the floor.
There is so much to do here.
What a messy house!

Lol! Excellent everyone!


On his hands and knees
The wayward wanton pirate
Was in the galley
With a toothbrush and water
Scrubbing the deck and cupboards.

He roams seven seas,
fights kings; beds queens. Wed one day,
now he cooks and cleans.

From mink to the sink!
Haughty, vain, he spent midlife
just circling the drain.

(Nice one, M!)

A dab of Draino
on her sponge, his crisis flushed
with one skillful plunge.

S

The plunger is there
After passing heavy stools
Too big for the bowl

Angie! That was so funny! Excellent M and Ryan.


He would take the plunge
and splurge on hiring a maid
made to make the grade.

Maids to clean messes
When feeling lazy again:
That's what I wish for.

LOL! You are so fast!

I'm finding that I like Haikus a lot more than I used to now