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Apgar 0 (159 Words) Fragile and blue, you made me so afraid Today you sing, your smile is soft, warm light, But fears have roots, and these ones do not fade. I watched you begin, midwife at your aid. Silent, limp, wet and in her hands so slight, Fragile and blue, you made me so afraid A light, klaxon, medical cavalcade. I held your mother as I watched you fight, But fears have roots, and these ones do not fade. Wiped clean, new breath, your signs of life remade. We held you close, tight, watching through the night, Fragile and blue, you made me so afraid Older now, time helps memory degrade News of a brother makes you smile so bright But fears have roots, and these ones do not fade. My fears doused, behind mental barricade - The day draws near, I’m scared they'll reignite. Fragile and blue, you made me so afraid But fears have roots, and these ones do not fade.
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Jan 22, 2017 23:14
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sparksbloom fucked around with this message at 03:33 on Nov 27, 2017 |
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Jan 23, 2017 00:19
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dance of dead dreamers 136 words beat so fast, like drums my heart that races down into the shadows of the crowd through rays of light and unfamiliar faces silhouettes that deal in twos and aces clubs that tumble underneath the shroud beat so fast, like drums my heart that races stop and go to rhythms that betray us flashing smiles that crash against the sound through rays of light and unfamiliar faces blown-out speakers, hollow sadness, baseless raindance met by silence in the clouds beat so fast, like drums my heart that races suffocate in overcrowded places fading stacks of smoke are pulling taught through rays of light and unfamiliar faces every beat is chasing for the latest dreams like pennies dropping on the ground beat so fast, like drums my heart that races through rays of light and unfamiliar faces
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Jan 23, 2017 01:36
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Favor Fortune (152 words) The lord of luck, he clothes himself in lies. He shuffles, stooped, into the seaside town; Unhappy then are they who trust their eyes. Meg Callahan his ragged coat espies-- A fishwife, she, whom fortune has let down. The lord of luck, he clothes himself in lies. No man so poor will purchase fish. She sighs And studies his gnarled feet, his scabby crown. Unhappy then are they who trust their eyes. Meg calls out, "Catch!" and tosses him a prize: A monkfish, like herself salt-caked and brown. The lord of luck, he clothes himself in lies. Directly to his arms her present flies; Surprise and wild delight erase his frown. Unhappy then are they who trust their eyes. He clasps Meg's hand and sheds his human guise. Together, they depart into renown. The lord of luck, he clothes himself in lies. Unhappy then are they who trust their eyes.
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Jan 23, 2017 02:49
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archived.
Tyrannosaurus fucked around with this message at 22:02 on Oct 31, 2017 |
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Jan 23, 2017 03:34
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Week 220 Crits, Continued Claims Adjustment This story is full of the kind of plot that Stephen King talks about, where plot is used as a crutch instead of focusing on story or character, where “plot” becomes more of a verb than a noun. And beyond that, there’s really no conflict evident here. When Lucia finds the feral society, they’re all friendly and accommodating and they just trust that Lucia won’t tell anyone about them. Save for a few typos, the writing is alright, it’s just that it serves little purpose other than “this thing happened, then this thing happened”. Lifting the Veil This is alright. You have a habit of getting the eerie and the macabre correct, and this story is no exception. The ending is a bit of an anticlimax, though—I was looking for “horrifying”, but instead I got “clever”, which wasn’t what I was expecting, both in the positive and the negative sense. The time loop seemed not only like a pulled punch, but also more of a pain in the rear end for whichever Lovecraftian entity was on shift that day than just a bloody death. The little details, like the grandfather clock, and the self-strangulation—those did a lot more than the rush of feeling at the end for me. It makes me think that if you’d have just hinted at something much more dark without fully showing it, the story would’ve had a more lasting effect. Ascent This was interesting in its own way. I liked the conceit of the endless tower. I didn’t like the present tense and the second person as much—mainly because I didn’t understand why I had to be in the main character’s shoes. He has a name, he’s his own person with his own past, why not just make it a third-person POV? Even so, I liked a lot of the little touches this story brought forth. And the ending hit hard in the way a lot of the stories this week couldn’t achieve. Gainful Employment This was well-written, detailed enough to make it seem human, and by the end, a little bit funny. It didn’t really seem to have an end to it, but it was interesting enough. If I had to change it, I might introduce the book club sooner and provide a steadier rise towards the story’s climax. We’re introduced to the book club, and almost instantly we know there’s some Lovecraft poo poo going down. It’d have more impact if it was more of a slow build—maybe a couple details at the opening that set your teeth on edge before you’ve figured out what’s happening. Russell Saves Voidmart My struggle with this one was that the internal logic of the story didn’t really make sense. I like the conflict between the two competing stores, but it feels like the more time you spend carefully explaining the dynamics of the rivalry, the less sharp and immediate the story feels, and the less sense it makes. Also, the ending seemed a bit too easy, like you ran out of time and had to find a way to put a bow on everything. It’s charming enough, though. Maybe if you kept the main character’s POV but had him explain a bit less. No Evil I like the device of replacing your eyes, but it seems like it would make more sense as a cosmetic surgery, like a status symbol, rather than as a cure for depression. “I need new eyes or else I’m going to kill myself” doesn’t quite ring true for me as a reader. Beyond that, it’s just sort of pretty filler until he does kill himself, for reasons that don’t quite come across to me. The imagery is beautiful, but it adds up to something I don’t really believe. Dude’s a few degrees away from a teenager throwing a tantrum about a tongue piercing. It doesn’t add up to a satisfying story. The feeling behind the feeling Yeah, this is a sebmojo story. Concise, charming, and darkly unfortunate. Also very character-heavy. This compares very favorably to that one story about the worms-in-ears conspiracy. The ending is the weak point, though, if you can call it an ending instead of just a cliff. I’d have very little negatives to say about this story if it stuck the landing at all. The Plunge We covered most of what could have been said about this story in the recaps, but it’s basically a rush job. I like the concept of the symbiotic vine, and it makes me wonder what would happen if this was submitted during a week that didn’t require the Voidmart conceit. There’s that one intriguing element—the vine—in a sea of thematically-appropriate nonsense. Customer Service I was surprise when I went back to this story and realized it just barely cracked a thousand words, which if anything is a testament to how much you can pack into a small wordcount. Technically, it’s spotless, so I’m going to focus on the few things I didn’t like. I guess I’d say that I missed an entire layer of the story due to my unfamiliarity with Norse mythology, but even then, the conflict was still apparent and compelling. I also would’ve liked a degree less attention paid to the jewelry descriptions and a degree more attention paid to character detail. I dunno. In a week where a lot of people went towards Cthulhu, it was cool to see a Ragnarok star. Lost and Found This week had a contentious judging session, but I pushed for this to win because I thought it embodied the spirit of the prompt the best, while at the same time being an engaging and resonant story that managed to have a satisfying ending. Nitpicks: story seems a bit top-heavy, in the sense that it’s paced slowly at the beginning and all of a sudden you get a rush of forward motion at the end. The “this is a farm” paragraph seemed particularly telling, in a cheap-ish way—if you had more room you’d want to make the revelation a bit more organic. Ultimately, though, it was an earned and deserved win that I enjoyed reading. Secrets of a Small Family If I recall correctly, and one of my co-judges can correct me—this was on the DM chopping block, but I pulled it off because I thought there was something to it. Looking at it again, I somewhat stand by that—there’s not much done with the prompt other than to set up the moment at the end where the parents discover each of them is cheating on the other. It felt real enough, kind of Carver-ish, and understated in the way a lot of other endings weren’t. No one got swallowed up by anything, they just agreed to see a therapist. It’s not much of a story, but you had a lot of competition in that area this week, so you got a pass. In the future, maybe outline your ideas more thoroughly and determine the driving conflict in advance. Special Promotions The main character reminds me of Entenzahn’s IRS guy, and not in a good way—to the point where both of these people are defined by their professions so much that they appear more like caricatures than actual people, especially given the existing cartoonishness of the setting. The story doesn’t really have any sort of arc to it, it’s just one locale and then the next and then the next in this mildly-charming-but-ultimately-benign sort of wild-goose-chase that by the end of the story leaves me wondering what the hell happened and struggling to remember if any of it was important. So instead of Unspeakable Horrors, she found Zombies, who don’t need worker’s rights. Also she gets a new position within the company. The competition for the loss was stiff, but so was the competition for the win, and I can see why this got lost in the shuffle, unfortunately.
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Jan 23, 2017 03:53
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Last Request 167 words It's easy to get to that shadowy place. No compass is needed, no map will lead there. There's nothing to see at the end of the race. The freaks of the world have carved out a space To huddle in pockets and wail in despair. It's easy to get to that shadowy place. A ravenous leprosy seeks to erase Six centuries work, borne along in the air. There's nothing to see at the end of the race. I tire of waiting. Look me in the face. Though long as I lived here I never would dare, It's easy to get to that shadowy place. But do this and you are a fool, a disgrace. There's nothing to gain from this selfish affair. There's nothing to see at the end of the race. Remain here with me, tend the fire, replace Dead embers. I need you, my glory, my heir. It's easy to get to that shadowy place. There's nothing to see at the end of the race.
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Jan 23, 2017 04:05
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Bora (58 Words) Wanderlust For the seven secrets of Autumn gust So robust-- Ghosts and leaves groan and sway with Wanderlust Flaking crust Sirocco peels back with an Autumn gust Nature's rust Blood and pus paint passionate Wanderlust Inhaled must; A putrid squall, tethered by Autumn gust On the last brae, I degust Acrid memoirs, as mistral overcomes Wanderlust Autumn gust
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Jan 23, 2017 04:25
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Parting Words Between Old Friends (134 words) ‘Twas good to see you once again There was no way this could end well You were, of course, my closest friend Your honor you did well defend Your sword well earns the price you sell ‘Twas good to see you once again My leg, I fear, might never mend Your bleeding I shall haste to quell You were, of course, my closest friend Your soul will not this day descend I shall not let you ring the bell ‘Twas good to see you once again On mercy, you should not depend I’ve not much left but empty shell You were, of course, my closest friend Your wrath, I know, is without end I’m certain you will give me hell ‘Twas good to see you once again You were, of course, my closest friend
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Jan 23, 2017 04:31
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Slippers and a Bathrobe (147 words) An arson? Well, that is a mystery. I was asleep, you see. That is, until, The smell of burning gasoline woke me! So I investigated, naturally. I grabbed my robe and headed down the hill. An arson? Well, that is a mystery. I don’t think I was being that nosy, When - I admit, I felt a little thrill - The smell of burning gasoline woke me! In fact, I think it’s rather neighborly (Not that they checked on me when I was ill) An arson? Well, that is a mystery. I saw the fire, and turned back up the street, Went back to bed. Enough! I’d had my fill. The smell of burning gasoline woke me! The flames burned down to smoke, eventually. And now we’re here, sonny. I’ll tell you still: An arson? Well, that is a mystery. The smell of burning gasoline woke me!
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Jan 23, 2017 04:37
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Aurelia 115 words Shadows rise on the garden wall. Pale light creatures with sumac stings, driven to the edge, mankind's fall. Worlds of veil lie within their thrall, from deep they drift on mucous wings. Shadows rise on the garden wall. Jellies float over barren pall of bleached white bone and scattered things, driven to the edge, mankind's fall. Toxic sand spills from urban sprawl and metals boil from buried springs. Shadows rise on the garden wall. Waters birth sheets of black rainfall where once did shelter vibrant beings, driven to the edge, mankind's fall. Echoes large fade to echoes small, of desperate men, dark machines. Shadows rise on the garden wall, driven to the edge, mankind's fall.
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Jan 23, 2017 04:49
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To What End We Know Not 116 words Thunder sings its dark refrain An epitaph to dreaming dead As static hisses through my veins The hourglass’ ever fewer grains Pay no heed to all the words we’ve said Thunder sings its dark refrain A fear from deep within me strains Against the world that lies ahead As static hisses in my veins The truth upon the soul it stains The path of memory untread Thunder sings its dark refrain What hands are there that hold the reins? What future still that can’t be fled? As static hisses through my veins The walker now a path attains Although it fills the heart with dread Thunder sings its dark refrain As static hisses through my veins
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Jan 23, 2017 04:51
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A Note to Myself (141 words) Reject lax acceptance, refuse to save face Trick not oneself one display might suffice For rapid but steady, relentless pace Should dictators die with their thrones now replaced Tell yourself still you must pay change's price Reject lax acceptance, refuse to save face What have you given? True, make your case Still, attend to the future and futures you sacrifice For rapid but steady, relentless pace So pick up the phone and visit the polling place Remind yourself, twice Reject lax acceptance, refuse to save face And pay no attention to thieves of king's grace Calling for patience when he'd preached precise For rapid but steady, relentless pace Is the world that you dream of the one that you chase? You know it is. So keep it alive Reject lax acceptance, refuse to save face For rapid but steady, relentless pace
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Jan 23, 2017 04:53
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(166 words) Ash Tray There’s a folded note in my lunch today. Tucked, hiding at the bottom of the bag. "I'm done, I can't, I'm taking Scott and May." The shift horn petered out, like it was strained from weeks of underuse; I told my friend — There’s a folded note in my lunch today. “poo poo, money that tight?” — I couldn’t just say “Yeah, that’s it,” as if you could explain away an “I’m done, I can’t, I’m taking Scott and May.” You can try it poet-like, you can say: "We were, like, smoldering, in an ashtray..." There's a folded note in my lunch today. Better that than the truth; the calls, the shame, the drinks and the soul-tearing morning-afters. "I'm done, I can't, I'm taking Scott and May." Before work I told her, "Shift's back, okay?" She took me in her arms while the kids played. There’s a folded note in my lunch today. “I’m done, I can’t, I’m taking Scott and May."
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Jan 23, 2017 04:59
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Between You and Me 168 Words It’s okay. I’m not afraid to lie. When they ask you, you know what I will do— When I’m alone, no one hears me cry. Your mother makes a hell of a pie. But I can see it coming, right on queue— It’s okay. I’m not afraid to lie. I cringe when you say it, though I know why When you lie to Jacob, when he asks you who— When I’m alone, no one hears me cry. We’re in the wrong place. Here, we could die If they knew the truth, how I feel about you— It’s okay. I’m not afraid to lie. I’m afraid of other things. That you’ll say goodbye. I’m afraid we’ll be the only ones who ever knew— When I’m alone, no one hears me cry. It seems easy for you. Like you don’t have to try. So I doubt. And I wonder. And I don’t have a clue. It’s okay. I’m not afraid to lie. When I’m alone, no one hears me cry.
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Jan 23, 2017 05:06
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Submissions closed!
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Jan 23, 2017 05:18
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It’s a poem about death (because that’s every poem) archive flerp fucked around with this message at 05:28 on Mar 14, 2017 |
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Jan 23, 2017 05:36
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Four Letters Who knows what the future will bring? As minutes tick across the clock: Fast judging, Good judging. A winner, a lose, the usual thing. A spate of mentions on the dock Who knows what the future will bring? For hours on cliff’s-edge we’ll cling Will they uphold or will they mock Fast judging, Good judging. The bluebirds and vultures will sing A pretty song or angry squawk: Who knows what the future will bring? When mornings erections upspring A lusty thrust or hate-bone’s' ock'? Fast judging, Good judging. We wait on crit’s savage sweet sting For each to rise or fall in stock Who knows what the future will bring? Fast judging, Good judging.
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Jan 23, 2017 05:58
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Thranguy posted:Four Letters fjgj
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Jan 23, 2017 06:01
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sparksbloom posted:Week #221 Crits: Flash Frontier Bird Week these are great crits, thank you 😍😘
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Jan 23, 2017 07:21
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MY BROTHERS WHAT DO THEY SAY OF THE FJ THEY SAY IT IS THE GJ
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Jan 23, 2017 08:57
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f fjgj? FJGJ!
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Jan 23, 2017 13:48
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Judging I There once was judging. It was good. The End.
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Jan 23, 2017 14:12
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Judging II: Electric Boogaloo There once was judging. To be continued...
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Jan 23, 2017 14:13
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If you can't handle me at my fjiest, you don't deserve me at my gjiest.
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Jan 23, 2017 15:56
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I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as fjgj
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Jan 23, 2017 17:34
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oshit it's your boy Los Angeles Judge Craig Mitchell!!   Craig is the best judge
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Jan 23, 2017 19:21
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SurreptitiousMuffin posted:oshit it's your boy Los Angeles Judge Craig Mitchell!! judge fast, fast judge!!
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Jan 23, 2017 20:01
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Mike Judge
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Jan 23, 2017 20:57
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 look at this fast judge, running through the night. a good judge.
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Jan 23, 2017 21:12
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hes alright i guess
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Jan 23, 2017 21:34
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Week 233 Results: Read these in judgemode, fyi. Congrats, goons, on a good week. We had cause to dole out more HMs than DMs. If your poem didn't HM but you thought it was good, it probably was. But there was a lot of good verse this week and it's possible some minor nitpicky thing took you out of the running, especially given quality of the competition. The no-changing-anything-in-refrains rule proved too strict for some, especially when it came to punctuation. Nobody got DM'd or DQ'd solely on the basis of violating this rule, but I did take entrants' adherence to it into account when evaluating stories. Thanks to sebmojo for co-judging. Jeers to SkaAndScreenplays for being the lone failure. Our single Dishonorable Mention goes to Jay W. Friks for a poem that is sloppy in structure and content. The proud owner of a brand new losertar shall be Chernabog for a poem that swats at sentimentality with a stick built of clichés. This brings us to our strongest entrants! Honorable mentions go to: Thranguy for a lighthearted and cleverly structured piece; Hawklad for a poem that (while perhaps not so ambitious) deftly hits its mark; sparksbloom for a masterful villanelle, chock full of double-meanings that truly cause the nature of the refrains to change. Sparksbloom, you missed the win by a razor's edge. Our winner this week is GenJoe for a poem that is every bit as emotionally resonant as it is pleasing to the ear. Congrats, GenJoe, on this, your first ascension to the throne!
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Jan 24, 2017 05:43
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Prompt etc.
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Jan 24, 2017 05:46
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prooooooooooooooompt
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Jan 24, 2017 05:46
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oh
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Jan 24, 2017 05:47
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This is the worst prompt ever. 
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Jan 24, 2017 05:51
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Julias posted:This is the worst prompt ever. ur the worst prompt ever
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Jan 24, 2017 06:11
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Oh 1 word Oh.
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Jan 24, 2017 06:25
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Week 234: Binging on Bad Words So in my short time here inside the rattling death-cage of the thunderdome, I’ve noticed a little something — the pieces of writing that really get to me, the really good ones — they all have a character somewhere in there that’s unconditionally and unquestionably human. There’s a character in there that’s been through some poo poo, that has perspective on something. They’re interesting in some way and I want to know more about them. I can relate to them, and by god, maybe I even like them enough that I want some good poo poo to happen to them at the end of it all. This week, I want you to give me a character that's human. Make them nuanced like any human is, make them want something like all humans want things, just don’t give me lifeless and don’t give me stereotypes or cliches. The strength of your character is what I'll be looking for the most. You’re also going to get a little stage direction this week. When you sign up, I’m going to give you a TV show synopsis from Netflix. The synopses are universally vague and clickbaity, and you’re going to form your story around one of them. (it’s okay if it’s loose, these are really just there to give you a concrete setting) Here's a sample synopsis, from Grey's Anatomy (I won't be giving you the title of the show when you get yours): “Neither their patient’s problems nor their own relationships are black and white. It’s all shades of grey” You're going to turn your poo poo-garbage synopsis into pure gold. God speed. p.s. given the current political climate, there is a strict no nazi rule being enforced this week Word limit: 1400 words Sign-ups Close: 11:59 PM EST, Friday, Jan 27th. Submissions Close: 11:59 PM EST, Sunday, Jan 29th. Judges: GenJoe Chili Thranguy Entrants: Twiggymouse Venomous Benagain Kenfucius katdicks a new study bible! Carl Killer Miller Bad Seafood Chernabog QuoProQuid jon joe flerp Fuschia tude Hawklad Obliterati magnificent7 Uranium Phoenix Tyrannosaurus Okua sparksbloom Killer-of-Lawyers Entenzahn sebmojo Djeser Metrofreak Flesnolk SkaAndScreenplays kurona_bright The Cut of Your Jib Julias Chairchucker Jay W. Friks BeefSupreme GenJoe fucked around with this message at 22:38 on Jan 29, 2017 |
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Jan 24, 2017 08:05
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GenJoe posted:You're going to turn your poo poo-garbage synopsis into pure gold. lol good luck with that
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Jan 24, 2017 08:08
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