Wednesday

sun and moon conspire

forging glow 

raining slow

dripping drops as wind respires

grey in hue

moody like faces of you 

once every darker blues

smiling for shared fires

missing words under hanging birds

luckless and uninspired

arms open and hands free

eyes of undying desire

menacing eagerly 

anxious ribs of me

no sounds required

plainly obvious

obliviously seeking danger

alarms sing like a choir

no care in a careless world

only a free hanging wire

ACTIVITY: Write a lipogram.

Write something, but omit the letter "t" from your results.

we fuel our need for closure

we fuel our need for closure
on a blue surface below us
on words                    we make
shine scream fly sing cry cuss

we're all wonderful
plus we argue blue & fro
you know                    we go where
we recharge                    we share a happening

a happy ending                    a bending
a rainbow of our going & gone
we're on & on & we're full-blown
we will change rise devour fade fiercely

You’re a Zero - Nero

You dare - invade - my domain?!

Escape now - fool! Quick – run!

Here I come – you food

You are dead – cooked grub

Your end is nigh – dumb fool!

I scoff - viewing your ridicule

Alas a final crime – you did

One where you die a placid

Your name shall be bygone

Your life a souvenir

Once like Caesar - Hero

Now like Rome - Zero

lipogram no t 'oday

An end comes

and ends a day

in dark

for worse

broken curse

devoid of sound

a mound of sand

a sea of grass 

impasse 

a fragile ray

disappearing

fearing

un-being

or being

unnamed unheard unspoken

a clearing 

of feeling going nowhere known

no-one opening his eyes

saying words  

of loving lies

lying face down

an end will come 

exorcism

exercising haunted corners with burning sage
hear the screams leave behind an echo
corners of a haunted heart barely beating

sometimes the burning kills the beats
silently burns out like the sage
the consumed being leaves with no echo

like an empty stage you swallow these echos
singing the ghostly fragile heartbeats
harmonizing with the rising of the smoking sage

fill the demons with rage as the burning sage echos through the chambers of your beating hearts

ACTIVITY: Write a Tritina

A tritina is a derivative form of a sestina. The tritina is a ten-line form that consists of three tercets and a concluding line. Like in a sestina, the last word of each line repeats, but in a different order. The final line includes all three of the words. For example:

1
2
3

3
1
2

2
3
1

123 or 321 or any combination thereof.

The numbers represent the words that should be repeated at the end of each line. The final line should include all three words in any order. Our variations may be slightly different, but this is the basic idea.

We tried to write tritinas using a uniform list of words: beat, sage and echo. What can you come up with? If you really want to challenge yourself, try a sestina!

This is a repost of a previous activity. Go here or here and read some other examples...

BSE

fall into the gallows at the end of the beatings
turning yer mind into the sword of the sages
adding calamity to them deadly echos

as they send every fiber of truth to the echoing
creating stoppage of ones own heart-beat
listen to the words of that treacherous sage

for ages smell like the sage
and voices make life echo
yet sorrow makes love beat

listen to the beatings of the aromatic sage's heart and hear those final echoes

What makes my heart beat

What makes my heart beat
In such an unusual manner? Sage
Words by friend or foe only echo

Through the empty room. What then? When the echo
Fades, I am alone. I tear my hair, swear, beat
Down the bent nail of my emotion. From where do such sage

Ideas hail? I look for a remedy, burn sage
To cleanse my aura, shout again to hear the echo
As it returns to me, look for someone weaker to beat

Into an echo of my heart, red with your sage and lasting beat.

Uh oh.

Vacant minds and hearts that don’t beat

No sounds bouncing off the walls with viridescent sage

Only the sound of silence and its jealousy that echoes.

I reminisce my screams that used to echo

Back in time, when I was always beaten

For singing out loud while burning sages

The smell lingers, of sage

But not of my euphonious squeals that used to echo

Whenever I was online against the same losers that I always beat.

No echo, because with my rage, came the burning of sage after I have finally beaten them to death.

ACTIVITY: Write about Smoke

In today's meeting, we chose a theme to write about: smoke. Read what we wrote...

How to quit smoking

another drag
tears
grass
nothing lasts
stone
snow
winter grows
fill my lungs with foggy cold
breathe in 
breathe out
they say...
it's all willpower
what a cliché
when will I want to stray from things that make me decay
who knows
maybe a new thought sprouting
choosing wisely
not pouting
choose it every day
pray it away
think it through 
everyone dies
except you and I
light the tar and burn it deep
sunken in your lungs like tall mountains fall steep
falling in like the heavy grey clouds 
polluted your chest 
with a smile so proud 
think you're cool? 
what a fool
sickly
wheezing
oxygen barely squeezing through
mountains once brazen
now they're shriveled up raisins
who are you lying to
just let the day pass
it's just another glass
of water
just one more day hotter
soldier through
let it consume you
breathe in
breathe out
they say...
to be continued maybe one day

 A clear sky consumed by a heavy weight of grey clouds escaping a deathly weapon. It eats up anyone that consume it. Digs into every cell and calls it its territory, not allowing any soldiers to break the barrier and save their Queen into freedom. Like a dragon finding wealth in a heavenly kingdom and claims it to be hers. It rules the vine shaped castle by breathing fire into it, and design the new throne for the King to gain reign.

An apathetic smoker...

I am perforated by the night that keeps me awake.

Through the balcony the moonlight pierces

and the ivory curtains oscillate

along with the wind that the atmosphere releases.

Behind insipid walls that’re opaque

creeps in the lethargic smell of cigarette smoke.

It might be my father, exhaling his headache

and the burdens of the world.

So I have this question that I can’t seem to shake:

Is he staring at the void, hearing unheard words?

or at the mirror that stares back

thinking of June and July and the days that his cigarettes continuously burn?

Smoke?

Inhale the smoke

And exhale at ease

Bare my soul and watch me bleed

That’s what you say!

Your wounded lungs and funny coughs

Remains of ashes representing your weakness

Smoking smoke

Your lungs are broke

it was all

          smoke & mirrors

some woke tears & weird

          flex          some bad X

             or Y-axis          plotting on a grid of lies

      evil eyes          highs & lows in the grind

               i'm in a bind          i find you

                    too shook          look

          it's a shame          when you see yourself

        back at you          black & blue

not true or tame & not lame either

          unrecognizable          hexed & hated

                     next to nothing

                          faded

Daft Fool Decide

Smoke flares up into the sky

Deluging the path into scrutiny

Turning sight into black

Alas, there is no way to know

Where one’s feelings drift

Aside from the fog of smoke

Tell ya what

To hell with this disgrace

I shall embrace this despair

I shall flourish through the agony

I shall seek my solace

Through this smoke efflux

Yer friends are scum’n yer daft

Stop looking in the smoke maze

Wake up from your day to day haze

Can ye not see nor feel the evil within

Their hearts and their eyes?

Why ye daft fool, this smoke is a lie

I haft no time for small talk

I haft no time to waste at all

You’ll sink us all – curses – decide!

ACTIVITY: Found Writing Using Word Strips

Today, I brought some glue sticks and a large collection of word strips--pages of text that had been cut into their individual lines of text. After sifting through them, club members assembled the word strips into visual word collages.

Tami asked how long it took to cut all the paper because, like the computer in "EPICAC" by Kurt Vonnegut, I had brought enough word strips "for the next 500 years." I explained that it was something that a few other teachers and former students worked on many years ago when we had had some free time.

Take a look at our of the results below...

Make the opening of your speech lively--

She interviewed the scientists and included them in her film.
he saw fascinating renewable energy installations, but also oil spills,
Yet for some reason, the people who have earned our patience
can't be flown out until
the center of the Milky Way.

Watching an entire island melt in a way that is unprecedented makes you
need it.

Can I see you again?

Astronomers have a long wait--

What's wrong with me?
We have no real social contract with them.
That constitutes a higher form
It's settling out in the ocean

Thirteen Ways of Growing

I
the confrontation of confusion
slipping into the looming idea
the scary parts
head on with veiled fright

II
wielding the swords of self
up for the battle
heaven or hell
why avoid thinking too deeply

III
feeling deeply
not much to crack the human inside
dead eyes alike 
with glimmers breaking light

IV
dim the spark further 
until the heat shatters open a new flame 
conclusions
much to attain

V
wisely picking at the healing scabs 
nerves raw
water to the fuse of thought
slipping into the endearing fog

VI
rising to the occasion
hands up for humiliation 
accepting the defeat at the feet of loud words
adopting the wave of retaliation 

VII
the rhyme of song
inside heads
music of screaming voices into small boxes
begging to alert attention

VIII
inherited acceptance 
what's to come
what had passed
and what is

IX
beautiful like sickness
festering through
adapting to the form of a recluse
unattainable

X
the understatement
realization of the cords
the strings and the keyboard
melodies forming the frequency of bullshit

XI
found its way to be heard now
unavoidable thought patterns
paradoxical learning and unlearning
years of stones again turning 

XII
no longer avoiding the confusion
dissociating the delusion
parts of bodies breaking through thin glass
left with a few functioning illusions

XIII
molecular errors
one compound of two parts
creating clouds raining down
sprouting fully realized hearts

ACTIVITY: Imitation

Today, we imitated "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" by Wallace Stevens. Take a look at the original poem and try to create your own version.

You can see some of our results below. In fact, if you like what you read, please, leave a comment!

Thirteen Ways of Interpreting a Dream

I
Among all the innumerable nights
Counting sheep or breathing,
I eventually dreamed or didn't.

II
You had another idea
Like an insomniac
Who paces around the house as if in a dream.

III
The dream was a nightmare.
It made me feel more alive.

IV
A sleepless night and a turn
Are several.
A sleepless night and a turn and a dream
Are several.

V
I know I prefer
A victorious leap through the fiery ring
Or the magic of a circus,
The dream lingering
While I shower.

VI
My wife turned in the sheets
Pulling them away from me.
The dream was interrupted,
Returned to, lost.
I didn't know
If I would be able
To return to sleep.

VII
O wandering women of Lethe,
Why do you imagine fairy tales?
Here, in the darkness, the dream
Keeps to itself,
Haunts the men on the shores.

VIII
I know demonic whispers
And iron tortures of the heart,
But I am lost, too,
When the dream consumes
What I know.

IX
When the dream came upon me
I was unprepared
Outside a square.

X
When dreams storm
In a somnambulant cloud,
Heavenly heavings of metaphor
regale the uninitiated.

XI
She roamed from Purgatory
In a purge.
Often, abstraction engorged her
In that she mistook
What really happened
As dreams.

XII
Lights dim within the compound.
Dreams are hammering in.

XIII
It was all times of the day
And seasons
And it was a murderous one.
The dream escaped
Through the veil.

[ Six Ways of Looking at Ink ]

I
On an ingenious brain,
there exists a flowing crimson ink
and a cranium above.

II
The sun hides below the horizon,
as the ink of the night
devours the sky.

III
Transparent ink gushed out of dense clouds.
I thought this time the world was going to drown, but alas, I was disappointed.

IV
One drop, ten drops,
this damned pen cascades sombre ink.
I think it's too late to wish
it wasn't on my tongue.

V
In a mad professor's realm
there's the ethereality of chaos
and inklings of sagacity
made by scribbles of ink.

VI
Above vivid memories
she pours golden ink
Perhaps with the spill of liquid lies
her lunacy can escape and hide.
Who would've thought that
with laptop screens and superficial smiles
there comes temporary tranquility and serenity of the mind?

Twelve & One Ways To Look At Life

I

Around these fields of sunflower

Sunshine and seed succeed

Like blossom of a life

II

The far blue of the ocean

Reeks of salt and fish water

A place fishermen in life once stood

III

The winds blow at the dawn of spring

Bugs dance at the rise of moon

IV

A cove down by the beach

Brown with little reach

Yet stands a life guard tall

As if stone

V

Kids dance on these lands

While men fight their wars

Their happiness very innocent

While their blood flows like steel

A new and old generation come to pass

VI

Heroes in their work fields

Stand mightier than the sword

Taller than the eye can see

These structures they’ve built

From steel, blood and sweat

Engineers in their own fields

Have papers up to their knees

VII

Figures now in our past

Built life lines till the end

Of roots we’ve inherited

With blood of the diligent

For posterity undiminished

VIII

Saviors of our lands

Protectors of the realm

Forwards to battle

At the forefront of war

With blood now diminished

IX

The birds and kids sing

Of happiness and sorrow

Asking us to live our lives in life

X

Hiding in the shadows

Scheming melodies

That are quiet shallow

Taking gold that is hollow

XI

Whole lives dedicated to practice

Garnering energy and power

Going around the world as fellows

To compete for metals a hallow

Fame churned in the mix

For nationalist fervorism

XII

The time is ending

Life is ascending

XII + I

The moon shows up

The story is now ending

However keep in mind

There is strictly one thing

Life is just your beginning

Hard Revive

It’s hard to open up
It’s hard to stay alive
I’ve opened my heart
Only for it to stop

I need a revive
A reason to survive
I’ve tried too hard
I’m too broken; give up

I’ve done what I can
Everything I could do
Yet I’m too blind to see
Too deaf to hear the beat

My heart is now gone
My brain is now dark
My eyes are both wet
My scars burn my arms

I’m trying to look alive
I’m trying to make it up
Alas... I failed to survive

Meaning?

What is the meaning of love?
Only to feel pain and hate
What is the meaning of life?
Only to feel dead inside

What is a beating heart;
If it only beats at dawn?
What is real happiness;
If you always play at pretend?

Who is really a friend;
If all you felt is fear?
What is the meaning of nice;
If all you have felt are lies?

Why are there so many questions;
That never give us our own answer?
Oh , for I’m lost into the masses
Of harmony, contempt and sorrow

If Only

If only you knew the truth
If only you felt my pain
If only you didn’t hurt me
If only you didn’t break me

Yet my lies decisive you
Yet my pain’s beneath you
Yet you make me bleed
Yet you make my bones crack

If only you knew my sadness
If only you knew my loneliness
If only you knew my secrets
If only you knew my doubts

I’m tired from all the games
I’m tired from all the pain
I’m tired from all the tears
I’m tired yet I’ll take my life

No Title#02

The feels of ice in... - here

The heart, that begs for defeat

The mind, lost in time

The eyes, nice shells

The cuts above the wrists

Can they not read?!

Those eyes - dead beads

The laughs - not sincere

The smiles... a play at act

He hides so much you see...

His cries fall on deaf ears

His jokes ask for help; read

His heartbeat weakens now

His life force.

Gone...

Goodbye!

Dead Cold In'n Out

It's cold on the inside
It's dead on the outside
My left and right
Air to air, all around

Why is this feeling here?
Leave me alone, capiche?
Loneliness, I don't need
Sadness, I don't seek

I feel sick, you see...
I'm tired from the feels
My heart is numb
My mind in mist

Why am I so scared?
Why am I so dead?
I've had some friends
I've felt some love

Tell ye what... I'm done!
Its too much to bear!
Its too much to take!
Take the gun! Shoot me dead!

The Generation of the Mechanicalization

The over reliance of technology 

A realization strikes

It’s virtual insanity 

What even is real life?

Our minds control our thoughts 

Or are our thoughts controlled by our lives?

Though our lives are no longer real

It’s virtual insanity indeed

The invasion of pure communication

What we say will only rely on the telecommunications

A brief inquiry 

Perspectives assembled

And the lack of validation 

I guess it’s time we start representing ourselves 

as the generation of the mechanicalization 

No Title #01

Daily battles of mine

Daily struggles of theirs

Many acry in pain

Many numb’n maimed

Constant rain; Heartache

Crowds a nuisance have become

Heart beating – no more

Eyes shining yet dull

Smiles, a mask – hidden

Friends? Heh, what a joke!

Look around – free fool!

The lonely grave; yours to take

Change in Space

This difference in space With many [a]different face A new level of [a]maze A new splendor in haste Back away to the old days Voyage to land far away At the least - good food Climate too good - too true Noise - louder - no choice Privacy... an option - no more Think... Back to the old days!

ACTIVITY: Write about Change

After the flood and the closing of our home, the LAS Building, we went through quite a few changes. Attending the ABP changes us, as well, so I thought that would be a good theme to tackle this week.

change again

for the better
for better or worse
change: a curse?
get into it          get fit
make a new start
make art or awful
get going
change is knowing something new
nice knowing you
change who you are
you're near and far and frequently
change is fear
you hear those voices
those choices and change
a whole range of wrong
right and residual
change is what's left

Alone, in the cold

Alone, in the cold
A breeze... you sneeze
Look at him, jeez
No friends, you see

Alone, in the cold
On the sidewalk
Colder than chalk
Eyes duller - blind

Alone, in the cold
Blood blankets underneath
Smiles in a sheath
Dead man - walking

Alone, in the cold
Tears on that face
Blood in those eyes
Dead man - walking

No heart - no soul
No emotion - no motion
Ever alone - for life!

Sorcosis

You fool - you tool
You're dumb - scum
Wake up - eyes of blue
You try... be nice

You cry then die
Think your a man?
Try again... trash
You blind - 'n dull

You've been used...
My god! What a stool!
Climb your bunk - chump
You'll fall tonight - asleep

Drunk on tears'n pain
Those cuts don't heal y'know?
Scars are not a farce
Stop this devotion - delusion

Existence an illusion
There is no collusion
You thought a trap?
That is... the truth

You're practice - consensus
Against you - all stand
Left'n right - alone
Down to hell... you go

looking around

sugary white marble under my feet 

a window view of the white concrete 

red plastic enveloping white sheets 

white everywhere 

with blue unsteady stairs 

brown plant pots like my hair 

empty board with little lonely black markings 

colorful cars under the parking 

bathroom doors with stale pasty lights 

person walking by in bright red tights  

reflective silver on pillars upright 

busy hallway lit with a faint pink light

ACTIVITY: List Images w/ Colors

This week, Creative Writing Club members made lists. Imagery is at the heart of good poetry, and making lists of random images often produces surprising results. Also, trying to find a way to look at the things around us--things that, perhaps, on a daily basis, we don't notice too closely--might help us make some kind of discovery about where we can find images and about how to arrange them.

To construct our lists, we walked around the LAS Building and wrote down what we saw. We imposed the constraint of including a color in every observation that we added to our lists. For additional effect, some of us included pictures of our observations.

Read some of our results below...

ABP things...

Sombre jacket on a figure so puny
Fire alarms on ivory, white walls
Ceilings hugging golden scintillating lights
Grass; viridescent, under a cerulean sky
Hazel boxes surreptitiously hiding behind a door
and a nimble hand on a silver handle.

Colours

A stolen orange notebook
A red packet of crisps
In a silver bin
A black abaya on a cream sofa
Blue jeans in the vicinity
Yellow writing on a wall
Golden light of a lamp
Behind the writing
Blue overalls of a worker
Dark brown coffee on a poster
Next to a white door to nowhere in particular
Orange strap of a bag filled with books
On a student's shoulder
His black trainers want to play volleyball not read

one black sign and one yellow one across from each other

each blue stair up to the next floor
Yousef's yellow binder
green grass on the other side of the window
a black and yellow pencil
a red mop bucket
some leaves on the dying plant
a picture of a pink crab who is saying,
"Hi! I'm a Crab!"
prayer times in purple
a silver column that reflects everything
the white table with one white paper on it
a package of gold and red Camel cashews
a turquoise button on a power strip
all these flags with white stars and stripes
a red light eyeing me from the wall near the elevator
a silver key
a cream couch that nobody uses

The ABP Rhyme

The white and blue HBKU stand
red wooden chairs with a table
auburn marble plates like mars
yellow boxed wall-e on a wall
candy colored lockers
white speakers on white wall

I love you - adore you

I love you - adore you

You love me

You hurt me

Do you hate me?

I want you

I need you

It was our time

We shared it

You helped him

You saved him

You liked him

You hate me

You broke me

You killed me

I can’t breathe

I can’t speak

That night - that pain

Blood tears; my face

Silent screams; my death

Gave myself... for you

I’m shattered

A memory

I’m glass that bleeds

You broke my feels

I’m numb; I’m dumb

My mind is dull

My eyes are dead

My heart in dread

You hurt me

I hurt you

You broke me

Destroyed me

My soul; your soul

I’m deaf

I’m dead

My heart - it burns

Treat me - my soul

Fix me - my soul

I’m done - my heart

Can’t take the pain

End me’n bleed me

Kill me - heal me

The One Soul

I fell... heartly for

I love you

I adore you

You broke me

You sold me

I love your... beauty

I love your... honesty

A beautiful personality

Yet, bullets... in my heart

Your chocolate; tasty

Your heart; radiant

Your mind; genius

I love you... my beauty

ACTIVITY: Write an ABACADABA

Abracadabra!

Today, we practiced writing a form based on the word 'abracadabra' with the 'Rs' removed. Write a poem that matches the following rhyme scheme:

ABACADABA whiteboard aftermath.

A

B

A

C

A

D

A

B

A

In this nine-line form, each letter corresponds to the rhyming word that should be found at the end of each line of the poem. The picture may give you a better idea about how the poem should look.

You can see some of our results below...

calloused core

please
let me bleed onto the ground
let me rip the shield of my skin & expose with rage all that had aged with the doing of your hands & the loud thuds of closing doors
the silence fills the spaces in which rooms are turned to cages & walls closing in on themselves like the crumbling of torn pages
let me show you the color of my chest
'cause I've been wearing this disorder like a vest
thinking if you'd seen the signs
you'd climb inside & do your best

...serendipity

Numb,

observing the colour schemes of the sunset.

Thinking dumb,

and feeling crimson blood

spilling out of lips so plump.

And wind, with me, begins to waltz;

hoping with movement I’d throw up the apathy I gulped

and the secrets I have kept.

In the end, there is ease on my jitters that thump.  

Pillow Thinking

Eyes are blinking,

cramped up stories, I have forgot.

Pillow thinking,

about the usual and the odd.

Memories are ringing,

ringing constantly,

taking over my body, lingering.

How can I get over a thought?

It is stinging.

Foodoochk

Words words about food

Rumble rumble little stomach

Those hands don't cook

Silence cursed ghoul

Using own kitchen tools

Stealing living gems

Quiet down stool

Sleep in hammock

Without my book - crook

He wonders if there will be any magic twist

He wonders if there will be any magic twist
to this. "What are we supposed to see
when we think about your words?" he hissed.
A princess, a dragon, a queen, a frog,
a wicked witch, a fairy godmother, a feminist!
Now, this really doesn't make any sense!
"Why all this politics in a poem?" He banged his fist
on the table and began to sing in a minor key:
"Don't Worry. Be Happy." Don't be pissed.