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I've been trying an experiment: use a random word generator to give me a prompt, 1h, write a poem. So I came up with something silly and dumb that makes me smile: Hover My cat has begun to hover. This raises certain questions: Should I adjust the catflap? If she stays in, will I have to put stilts on her tray? She hovers in front of my face. The vet suggested iron supplements or rewriting fundamental physics. I think I'll just feed her instead. 
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Apr 17, 2018 23:22
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| # ¿ Apr 27, 2024 03:35 |
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Thanks! I think you're right about the stilts line, it is a bit clunky.
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Apr 18, 2018 07:29
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I like it! I think you could probably lop off the first stanza, though - it doesn't add anything to the story. (Also for some reason in my head it's Nick Cave performing this  )
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Apr 18, 2018 14:53
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I'm well on for that.
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Apr 19, 2018 11:03
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^ Needs more puns.  The rain/dam red/dye lines are my favourites. I'd probably switch the dark alley and police presents lines around, so you can have sleighed and presents following each other.I've done more of the 'random generated word, 1h to make a poem' thing, and I swear the generator is taking the piss: Yawn An orbit is just a fall without an impact. Earth falls towards Sun, you fall towards Earth. When you fall at the same speed, in the same direction, you stay together. A careless change in velocity, and you drift apart. Chasm yawns between ship and pilot, glacial, unstoppable. No friendly ground here, no equal and opposite, no way to exert strength To change your fall, all you can do is cast mass away. Exhale. Breath held in vacuum detonates lungs. Close eyes, lest the moisture boil off as they freeze. Alarms fade without air to transmit them. Throw it all behind you and fly. lofi fucked around with this message at 00:56 on Apr 22, 2018 |
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Apr 22, 2018 00:52
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areyoucontagious posted:Personally I’d junk this one :/ It's ok, you don't need to sugarcoat your feedback.  I might try salvaging the idea for this week's rewrite prompt in the learning thread (plug plug).
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Apr 24, 2018 14:26
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areyoucontagious posted:Sorry for posting two back to back but I need help with a metaphor and improving some of the lines. It's got good atmosphere, but I think there's too much repetition of lines, it goes past emphasis into annoying. Feels like you've got half a poem and then padded it out. What there is is solid.
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Apr 24, 2018 18:47
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Oooh, I came across this last week when I said to my writer friend 'what the gently caress is one of them'. I stand by my view - it might be interesting to write one and stretch yourself, but they're shite to read. They come across like a fever dream to me, and not in a fun way. #luddite
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Apr 25, 2018 04:08
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PurdWerfect posted:Valley of crystals https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SBwK2s734DQ  I like it, super-atmospheric!SoA, yours feels like a good idea, but it needs more context to mean much to me - I'm a huge fan of being concise, but I think this one's too pared down.
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Jun 12, 2018 14:16
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I haven't been doing much poetry lately  I did this, though, and I don't know if it's a poem or what. 3am-heat-inspired:Friend mosquito, you needn't wei past my ear. I am sanguine, and more than happy to share.
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Jul 17, 2018 21:33
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Apparently it's a typo, I meant 'wai', a greeting that's also onamatopia. "Friend mosquito" I'd want to keep in place for sentimental reason, but I totally agree on 'more than happy'. Do you have any advice on hearing tone & rhythm, it's something I see a lot, and have no idea how to approach. I keep reading stuff about stressed syllables and I'm just like 'wtf, surely that varies by person?' lofi fucked around with this message at 14:48 on Jul 19, 2018 |
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Jul 19, 2018 14:29
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So mathmatical A mustelid that can count Well, at least kind of.  I've been working on a poemthing to be illustrated/turned into a comic: Oppressive August evening heat My window gasps for air And soon enough, my sustenance, My neighbours' spitting fights. He can't be arsed to sort his life And she's a drama queen A blazing pyre banked with spite And things they can't unsay. Delicious fire that feeds itself And sees me through the night A schadenfreude ménage à trois They burn themselves for me.
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Aug 11, 2018 15:54
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| # ¿ Apr 27, 2024 03:35 |
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Kevin is a potato He sits opposite me in group Sprawls, pinned under the globe of his abdomen Swollen to bursting with drink Straining to escape his red checked shirt He leans to lift his mug of tea Shifts glacially, inflexibly Seconds pass as he lists, reaches, lifts A herculean task Kevin is a potato Vacant oilslick blue eyes Pinprick pupils and a labyrinth of crow's feet. Hair removed rather than styled Slack mouth slumping into his neck His voice without inflection Monosyllabic answers that tell you nothing Always a million miles away Trapped in a slower place Kevin is a potato Man become tuber via the bottle And I write not from malice or mockery But to pin him in my memory Because I was sat opposite Kevin in group.
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Aug 18, 2018 10:01
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