Meet in the Library every Tuesday after school from 3:30 PM to 4:30 PM. All are welcome!
Tuesday, October 30, 2018
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
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
Thursday, October 18, 2018
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!
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!
Wednesday, October 17, 2018
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
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 lightTuesday, October 16, 2018
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...
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.
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
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
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
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
Thursday, October 11, 2018
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
Tuesday, October 9, 2018
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:
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...
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
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.
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.
Thursday, October 4, 2018
A Messy Devolve
This pain… too free
These tears… too real
This numbness quite surreal
My heart… a wreck
My whole life… a mess
My eyes – fulla bliss
LEAVE ME ALONE
These feelings… can’t control
All this warmth
Yet my heart is cold
My skin’s dead ‘n
smiles quite fake
LEAVE ME ALONE
TAKE MY HEART
BREAK MY MIND
I just… want to cry
A Broken Resolve
Help Help! Save my soul!
Stop the flow of tears!
Save me now! Please!
Stop my heart
Break my mind
Guard my will
Build my walls
Dig my hole
Bury my skin
Break my bones
Suck my blood
Burn my breath
Dig me a grave
Let me die tonight
I need an escape
From this hell
Tuesday, October 2, 2018
ACTIVITY: Write about Falling
This week everyone followed the same theme: falling. Write your interpretation of falling whatever in whatever way you want...
falling upwards
desire boat
haunted with memory
flesh on flesh
lean in close
carrier ships await at bay
taking passengers
they sail away
sea drowns out the noise
only wind carry salty breeze
tempted
falling with ease
a feather afloat
winter leaves
rowing at the tide
against currents
water with sweat adrift
sirens risen
avert your eyes
hands sway
aboard
limp they lay on wooden boards
sweet sea creatures
of flesh no more
and of fight they carry
abandoned ship to sleep on ferry
compass at true north may lie
memory tricksters tick back time
motion sickness weighs in heavy
shallow breaths squeeze on by
venture further
lighthouse close like cold murder
swing on by in the sea with swift
shore cannot swing them adrift
wailing whales while white waters whisper
candle moonlight clear as crystal
chandeliers in the sky
no survivors at the shelter
welting faces
pieces fall further
afterlife wonderland under ocean grounds
buried souls in open blender
splendor
blue with tears
dark like tar
caskets like empty glass jars
sirens pulled us under
wavy stillness with stiff weather
hear no longer
say no better
feel the agony render it tender
new boats in
waving arms again
sent off sailors on ocean benders
slow upon sight
sun scorching
moon and light lender
seize skies while seeking eyes
collapse inside
fall in love
surrender
Choices, choices...
Under the horizon the sun hides,
the wind bows in the moon’s presence.
Muffled screams behind closed doors finally subside,
the clock still chasing the present.
Standing above, my eyes look down;
and they coruscate like midnight stars,
and I wonder... if I should fall and drown.
Perhaps I should fall into the arms of death,
that would be utterly bittersweet.
Or is it love that I’m supposed to fall in its depths,
and that melancholy, it’s supposed to beat?
I think and wonder,
as the rain abjures the clouds,
and I think and I ponder,
if the end of time will come
before I put rest to these maddening doubts.
To My Younger Self
I always thought,
what you did was irritating.
The things you put yourself through,
it's aggravating.
Tell me why,
do I have to lie
to please you.
Don't fall.
Tell me why,
do I have to stop,
and leave you bleeding.
Don't fall.
Tell me why,
do I have to stay quiet,
and leave you hurting.
Don't fall.
You, you degrade yourself,
you fall.
You kind of hate yourself
for doing so.
Don't fall.
Falling
Falling freely fragments floating in fin air
Falling into disrepair
Falling into stony stare
Falling in indif-f-frent flight
Falling in f-f-fright, all night
Falling as if unfolding
Scaffolding
To hold the falling
Stalling
Its fall
Landing
Standing
On a wobbly wall
Falling in
love
On the wings of a
dove
Falling like the last snowflake
dancing in the grey winter breeze
just before spring strikes
Falling
In life
The King's Own Hole
Ran in unaware
So far into - - - this place
Everything, I have gone and done
Out of place into this hell
All my work astray
So far, down the road
Of the devil’s own
The red-night sun
Look into those eyes
What are they missing?
They ain’t dreaming
Vengeful – very hateful
Rising to the cries and tears
Red eyes all around
Feel the pain in this trip
Down a hole – the King’s Own
Falling off the Bike
I was riding my bicycle in front of our house, which was one of six houses in a court. It was really my dad's bicycle, an old red Schwinn three-speed, but he didn't ride it anymore. My mom had the matching ladies version. I used to ride it to school and to soccer practice after school. Benny on the soccer team called it "hoopty," because it had big rims and was kind of old-fashioned. I had outgrown my old bike, but still needed something to ride. During the day, everyone was at work, so no cars were parked in the street and there was plenty of room to maneuver.
Strangely, none of the other neighborhood kids were around, so I was riding alone, doing circles in the court. For some reason I started shaking my head--I liked the visual effect of shaking my head while whizzing by on my bike. It made the world look all blurry and different. Unfortunately, I did it longer than I should have and lost my balance somehow. The next thing I knew, I was on the street with a severe lump on my head. I had fallen and banged it on the street somehow. I didn't ride my dad's bike for a long time after that.
Strangely, none of the other neighborhood kids were around, so I was riding alone, doing circles in the court. For some reason I started shaking my head--I liked the visual effect of shaking my head while whizzing by on my bike. It made the world look all blurry and different. Unfortunately, I did it longer than I should have and lost my balance somehow. The next thing I knew, I was on the street with a severe lump on my head. I had fallen and banged it on the street somehow. I didn't ride my dad's bike for a long time after that.