Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion
Weekly Poetry Stuffage
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Week 177 (August 5th - 13th) Poems. Topic: Apathy
Here is mine, read mine first!The Listening Stranger
I hear sob stories all day long.
Listening to your highs and lows.
I contemplate calls for help,
But I care not for your woes.
Hands slide all over me,
Mouths press against my skin.
Clear glass surrounds my core,
With wires protruding within.
Do you think I am pittyless?
Think you I have no soul?
You would be correct my friend,
For I am just a pay phone.
Christa: Nice! I like how at the end, we found out it was just a payphone. Very creative,
Really good, Christa. Your gentle rhyming feels very natural and not forced. I love the subject you've chosen and the way you described the phone - it is subtle and clever without being too obscure. I may be wrong, but should 'slid' be 'slide' in the 5th line? Very nicely done!
Haha, yes it should be thanks Ryan. I am glad you liked it.Thanks Ducky :D
Awesome! I have a poem that I wrote a few months ago that seems just right for this week.
A PATHETIC APATHY Some people have almost no regard
At all for their surroundings,
They’re self-absorbed, disinterested
And don’t much care for those around them.
Turning a blind eye to corruption
When comes time for the next election,
Their leaders they willingly follow
And the usual empty promises swallow.
They’ll vote for the government in fashion.
On what do they base their decisions?
Is it anything more than tradition?
So many promises never kept
Under the carpet promptly swept.
So many questions to be asked
But that’s always somebody else’s task.
How can they observe and not react?
While lies are being presented as facts.
In blissful ignorance they bask.
The world with many problems is faced
But to a lot of people this doesn’t seem to matter.
As long as they have all they want and can afford to waste
It’s not their problem if the rivers are running out of water.
Whatever they need they can get
And whatever will happen hasn’t yet.
Generations to come may struggle to survive
But things won’t get too bad while they’re still alive.
So why should anybody fret?
They see no reason to be worried,
They go on saying “it’s all good”.
For their wastefulness they’re not sorry
When they’re not the ones running out of food.
In large comfortable houses they live
Without struggling to make ends meet.
In their flashy cars they drive
Without noticing the homeless on the street.
But they don’t offer the help they could.
People will follow where someone leads
For something to do they read the news.
They don’t seem bothered by what they read
And they have no interest in sharing their views.
If someone somewhere committed a crime
It was in another place at another time.
“It didn’t happen anywhere we go,”
And “It didn’t happen to anyone we know,”
They are not effected by a stranger’s abuse.
People like sheep will flock
To hear religious preaching.
Leaders often use guilt or shock
To add force to their teachings.
Whether or not their words are true
Has little to no relevance.
So many of the world’s big issues
Are results of extremist influence.
Most people will not take a stand; they just sit on the fence.
Whether their leaders are the same that caused
So many countries to go to war,
To consider these things they do not pause,
Of the suffering of others they’re hardly aware.
To lend a hand they refuse,
“Some people win and some people lose,”
They proudly insist that they have rights
But for the rights of others they will not fight.
They should try walking in another’s shoes.
The world becomes overpopulated
By people so unmotivated,
To make changes they will not try.
Through life with ease in comfort they cruise.
“Into the lives of others we mustn’t pry,”
Really what a pathetic excuse!
Do they have no empathy?
Are they all plagued with such apathy?
When I read the news tears fill my eyes.
Is "evil" a lack of goodness,or a force of it's own?
Are people "bad",
or are they just alone?
Do we mean to harm,
or are we just confused?
Are murderers just ill people
who really can't choose?
If babies are pure when born,
than people can't be evil,
just broken and torn.
JT: That was great! Right on point in our world, especially America. I really like the rhyme scheme, and how the last line of a stanza was like a brutal truth. Wonderful.Belly: Very nice, as always. :)
Person: I like the contemplative feel, but it's a bit choppy in the flow. Maybe you meant it to be that way? Nevertheless, it's a good poem.
My Apathetic Oneby Lilian Wilde
Never looking at the clock
Staring straight ahead
Stand at the door and never knock
Sleep underneath your bed
They say you're strange and devoid
They just don't understand
Just because you have no life or joy
And you can't sit or stand
Passion bores you to tears
Yet I see fire in your eyes
You never look in forward years
Yet in the past you've seen the sky
Apathy is a strange term
It means you show no love
You treat everyone like a worm
Glare at the ground above
You may think that no one cares
I don't care what you think
Never take a truth or dare
Though danger's on the brink
If apathetic is truly what you are
Why is ice inside your soul?
Why do I see your face in every star?
Why do you turn my heart to gold
With face impassive, you walk by
I look the other way
You never glance on either side
My apathetic one, good-bye
Wow that was great Lilian, I loved the flow of it, very easy to read and pleasant to listen to. J.T yours was right on point, I can feel the frustration there.
Yes Belly, I am not entirely happy with that line, but I could not resist the urge to post my poem first :D
Lol. There seems to be a trend with 'a' prompts. Three weeks running.
Thanks, Christa!Hey, can you only submit one poem/story a week per topic?
You can submit one story and one poem per week/topic.
Web News WastelandIn a land of freedom
fading, each truth told has layers
of shading; trust and love just
cards for trading - commodities
worth less than gold…
In this land of pain
and tears, a moment's disgrace echoes
throughout the long years. Truths are heard
through deafened ears, while pride
is bought and sold…
In a land of heroes
who struggle to rise, who fall defeated
before unflinching eyes; a land begot
of two-faced lies, my heart
is turning cold.
~ R ~
Very different from what I usually write. Open for critique, please let me know if it worked or not...
Okay, here's a little something I whipped up. Inspiration struck so here it is. For better or worse.Title: The Unrepentant
Deep within the earth,
lies a plain of brown and red.
No chance for rebirth,
but there remains no dread.
Tearless souls live forever,
their fates sealed beneath.
No chance for the clever.
No chance for laurel wreaths.
It's the price they pay,
their apathy having gone its way.
Death and destruction they caused,
without the slightest pause.
Lilian, great job! I love your take on it, especially the last two stanzas. The last few lines really just bring it home. Ryan, interesting twist on the prompt. Well done!
Person, very thought provoking.
Belly, you made me laugh right out loud. Well done, my friend, well done! Lovely haiku.
Christa, I like how you presented it as if the payphone were a person at first. I was sitting there trying to figure out the latter part of them poem when I finished it. Brilliant.
J.T., I struggle to fine the proper words to convey my impression. There were a lot of topics in that poem but you made them all flow very nicely together, like you just let your thoughts run together. Okay, that last part sounds a little contradictory, but I mean it in a good way! The entire thing seemed effortless.
The Ghosts have Left Fukushimaversion 4
sorry, have to delete so i can submit somewhere... ask me if you want to see it. :)
Jim, you got my heart beating a little faster there! Amazing! I love it! I just...I...wow. That was so wonderfully creepy! The description was spot on but not too heavy. The pacing was quick but not too much so. My favorite line is, "From under your bed fingernails glow." The images were fantastic!
thanks, Stephanie! it is up for critique in my folder, you can see some of the comments there and the various versions.
I’m laughing at Belly’s “some guy swerves to hit a bird . . .”
The writing in Lilian’s “My Apathetic One” is beautiful.
The Old Absinthe HouseI had known them before
in a nightmarish life,
now fading script
on an antique postcard--
the scrolled mahogany bar,
the Art Nouveau door,
the pearled knife,
the scarred floor
sawn from swamp cypress;
the leggy, long-haired
goddess in a bath towel,
who rises from the wine stem’s
milky green when the fée verte
drips from a silver trowel.
WOW! Exquisite poem, M! Perfect with my midnight coffee :)
Domestic NincompoopClay castles fight for space with cut vegetables on the kitchen slab,
A toddler's sitting there on that cold marble, on her own.
Her tiny voice's no match against the grinders and pressure cookers
Functioning in the room. Her feeding bottle is empty, so she continues
Chewing rubber, hoping for something to come through.
She's not just hungry but sleepy too. The distance between slab and
Floor is two meters, just so you know. Out the window, she sees
Her mother rinsing and strangling clothes as fresh washing powder
oozes from a plastic bucket. How could that not remind her of milk?
She looks up; the exhaust fan's chopping air. It catches her attention
For a fleeting moment but hunger catches up again.
Her father's eating groundnut, watching TV in the living room.
He's gawking at underdressed women dancing in the rain.
The child cries with all her might, he finally hears a feeble voice.
He shouts to his wife, 'Oye, come here and give her some milk'.
He then adds: 'Get me some coffee too'.
-Aj
Reading “Domestic Nincompoop,” it’s easy to take for granted that the images and what they imply are what tell the story. It’s easy to take for granted because Ajay is so natural at it. It’s also why it’s the kind of writing the reader finds himself living, as though he were there, seeing the tired, hungry child on the high countertop; the mother outside, wringing the clothes by hand; the father who’s watching television and expects to waited on hand and foot. By means of foreshadowing and, at the end, a change in perspective from that of the little girl to that of the father, the poem implies rather than tells what happens to the child.
wow Ajay, very powerful work. And M's critique is spot on.
Ajay, you've left me speechless again.
Thursday Morning Lazy kitchen won’t clean itself
drunken legless bin won’t stagger
to the curb
with his big sad brown eyes
the dog claims he can’t use the tin opener
the pizza refuses to accept you
can cook by magic
and all the crumpled ideas
scribbled on paper and scribbled out
sit around my feet like a group of
taunting monkeys around a shaved ape
despite my attempts at the
Jedi mind trick to rid myself of them
it’s
just another Thursday morning
Ha! That was great Steve, loved the all the different lines with "The dog claims he can't use the tin opener" being my favorite.
apathyby Guy
on their way to the important stuff,
they looked at the man as if he wasn't there,
as if …
no.
that is incorrect,
meaning my description is wrong.
they walked past the man because they didn't see him.
he wasn't there.
he wasn't theirs.
i saw them, watched them not seeing him.
i ate my sandwich in the wonder of it.
and then i turned and went back to my life.
Clever Guy. I really like the natural dialogue effect and the simplicity which conveys so much.
I really like the rhythm you've developed here Al. It's different and captures the reader.
thanks for the kind comment Christa, I would much prefer an upbeat topic, I like a bit of dark humour in poetry
I forgot to mention that I want some critique.
:) Thanks Alex! Your new pic rocks (whistles after looking around, fortunately no one hears it).
Good thank you, Al. I'm just back from a few days camping with my boys and trying to catch up on all the great writing I've missed - too much to absorb in one sitting, though.I agree with you - I've opened my iPad for a "quick" look once or twice when I've been up in the middle of the night. It's always a trap when the haiku thread is on fire...
And 'sleeply' is good but not quite as good as 'bare with me' ;)
The Winners:1st: Ajay
2nd: Jim, Christa, and Lilian
3rd: Person, Ryan, and Belly
4th: Stephanie (Mod), M, Steve, Guy, Stephanie, J.T., Al
Thank you for participating and voting everyone!
Congratulations, Ajay! Fantastic poem, mate :)
Please post directly into the topic and not a link. Please don’t use a poem previously used in this group.
Your poem may be any length. However, poems significantly more than 3000 stanzas long may not be fully read.
This week’s topic is: Apathy
The rules are pretty loose. Write a poem about anything that has to do with the topic. We do not care, but the poem you post is to relate to the topic somehow, even if very loosely or metaphorically.
Above all, have fun!