Hey folks,
I really appreciate the uptick in traffic to my blog recently. If you enjoy what you read here, please comment, share, re-post and hey, even follow the thing. If you think there is something I could do better, I would appreciate hearing about that as well. Let's keep it civil though, huh?
Thanks,
Chris
“There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.” (W. SOMERSET MAUGHAM)
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Thursday, May 21, 2015
After the killing...
The third piece in our fill-in project took a drastic turn, as things usually do with Paul. He did not title his piece, but I refer to it as After The Killing. I sent Paul the odd lines of my 20 line poem and this is what he came up with. Enjoy.
sips of coffee
with you after the killing
take the place of
nightmares;
under the table
is safe,
our feet, not seeking
silk sand or red carpet ache
to just be still
as can be;
in no hurry to start
the pain again, we hope for sex
and sections of newspaper
devoted to weed and poetry...
finally broken by the whine
of my daydream, the ghost screams
to relieve herself
of me,
and sun on face, you ask
for a refill.
sips of coffee
with you after the killing
take the place of
nightmares;
under the table
is safe,
our feet, not seeking
silk sand or red carpet ache
to just be still
as can be;
in no hurry to start
the pain again, we hope for sex
and sections of newspaper
devoted to weed and poetry...
finally broken by the whine
of my daydream, the ghost screams
to relieve herself
of me,
and sun on face, you ask
for a refill.
Monday, May 18, 2015
The Red Dog
I sent the even lines from my 20 line poem to Steve Pump and this is what he came up with to fill in the lines. He seemed to hone in on the dog from my piece, possibly because it appeared more than once in my poem.
the red dog
a poem in hand
and subtle glance
transcribed the play of
morning talk
in which I was the red
dog lazing between
dreams of knees, fed on
attention, content
to move within a single room
in the morning light.
I heard the song of the dumb gods,
mugs refilled, salty skin
still smelling of sleep, eyes
exchanged, the silence
broken by my poem, the song
of the dog needing
a familiar shadow to follow,
back door opened,
asking nothing as if to say,
"what do you want to do today?"
**************************
I really like the idea here of the dog following his shadow...
the red dog
a poem in hand
and subtle glance
transcribed the play of
morning talk
in which I was the red
dog lazing between
dreams of knees, fed on
attention, content
to move within a single room
in the morning light.
I heard the song of the dumb gods,
mugs refilled, salty skin
still smelling of sleep, eyes
exchanged, the silence
broken by my poem, the song
of the dog needing
a familiar shadow to follow,
back door opened,
asking nothing as if to say,
"what do you want to do today?"
**************************
I really like the idea here of the dog following his shadow...
Friday, May 15, 2015
More on collaborative poetry
There are probably thousands of ways that collaborative poetry can be approached. My suggestion; mix it up. A recent project between myself and two of my co-poets explored one facet of collaboration. This project was a lot of fun and, we all three agreed, turned out some pretty good pieces.
The parameters we set were minimal, we were each to write a 20 line poem on any topic. Next, we sent one of the others only our even lines and the other, only our odd lines. The second poet was to fill in the blanks, keeping each piece at 20 lines. The only other caveat was to not create too long of a line compared to the ones preceding and following for the sake of symmetry and visual appeal.
Today, I will share my original 20 line poem. The revisions or fill-ins will follow shortly.
Sunday Morning
The parameters we set were minimal, we were each to write a 20 line poem on any topic. Next, we sent one of the others only our even lines and the other, only our odd lines. The second poet was to fill in the blanks, keeping each piece at 20 lines. The only other caveat was to not create too long of a line compared to the ones preceding and following for the sake of symmetry and visual appeal.
Today, I will share my original 20 line poem. The revisions or fill-ins will follow shortly.
Sunday Morning
sips of coffee
and subtle glances
take the place of
morning conversation
under the table
dog lazing between
our feet, not seeking
attention,content
to just be still
in the morning light.
in no hurry to start
the day, mugs refilled
and sections of newspaper
exchanged, the silence
finally broken by the whine
of the dog needing
to relieve herself
back door opened
and sun on face, you ask
“What do you want to do today?”
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Let's make a scene
3rd installment of
Java Dock Cafe's open mic will be:
Sunday May 31st 3-5pm
please arrive by 2:30 to sign up
if you wish to perform
bring your best...
poetry, prose and/or acoustic music
Java Dock Cafe's open mic will be:
Sunday May 31st 3-5pm
please arrive by 2:30 to sign up
if you wish to perform
bring your best...
poetry, prose and/or acoustic music
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