Wednesday, November 28, 2018

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

Tuesday, November 27, 2018

ACTIVITY: Write a Tritina

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: beatsage 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.

Tuesday, November 20, 2018

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!

Tuesday, November 13, 2018

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


Saturday, November 10, 2018

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