First up is the prose-with-line-breaks-masquerading-as-poetry I wrote for a contest on Locution to do with clichés.
***
Love is Blind
Cupid needs glasses.
He must, for he always
passes over me.
His aim is /not/ true--
it's a wonder his arrows
flew straight before now.
I don't really mind,
but if he can't seem to
find me sitting here,
how is he to hit
his real targets? It's a
bit suspect, I think.
I should say something.
Oi, mister Roman god!
Ring up an optician!
No? It's not so bad.
I survived the visit I
had sometime last year.
Oh well, it's your loss.
No running to me when
cross lovers complain.
It's not like I mind,
but love is so very blind.
***
I started something else before writing "Love is Blind." It felt a bit more like poetry, but the imagery/direction seemed muddled. Here goes trying to make something of it:
***
Climbing up the Walls
You've got me climbing up the walls,
still remembering yesterday's fall when
you failed to take up the slack--
I might as well be bouldering.
I feel like I'm at the end
of my rope (even though I'm not),
and all I can see is red
tape marking the route's holds.
***
I can't get any further with it. Somehow I'm unable to crystallize the premise--comparing a fight with rock climbing. It was supposed to tie in the idea of a person climbing in anger, to let off steam, but it just doesn't gel properly. I like individual lines, but not the poem itself, unfinished though it may be.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
DMV
Prompt: write about something boring.
The something boring: standing in line.
***
Derek was glad his phone had Tetris, because otherwise he might have killed a few people out of boredom already. He briefly imagined a game of Tetris played with contorted human corpses as he slotted a square into place before realizing the thought was probably morbid. His roommate Brian was a a psych major, and he was always going on about Derek's supposedly morbid outlook on life. Said it wasn't healthy, or whatever.
He felt a bit justified at the moment, though. Standing in line at the DMV had the atmosphere of a funeral combined with a shipwreck. Desperation and the consuming urge to get the fuck out while there were still lifeboats left tempered with the heavy, paralyzing weight of inevitability you feel when faced with the cruel fact of mortality.
Yeah... better to focus on the Tetris game. Derek mashed the buttons, trying to find a place for an L-shaped block. Damn thing was the wrong type of L. He ran out of time and swore as it plopped down ungracefully, leaving several spaces empty but inaccessible.
Many, many people into the distance, someone called, "Next!" The murmur of the crowd rose slightly as a wave of shuffling moved from the front to the back of the line. A space opened up in front of Derek in his peripheral vision, and he moved forward without taking his eyes off the little screen. He was never going to fix those empty spaces now; the higher the pile got, the harder it was to maneuver.
GAME OVER. Derek sighed and glanced at his watch before starting a new game. Twelve twenty--he had class in an hour, and this line was taking forever. Maybe he could grab a sandwich on the way back to campus. Which was more likely to get him in trouble with Professor Miles, he wondered. Falling asleep from hunger, or trying to eat a sandwich sneakily. Sounded like a no-win situation, really.
Why didn't they have more people at the desks, anyway? It was lunchtime, the time when people ran out of their cubicles and classrooms to do all the things they couldn't do while working. If the DMV people had any sense, they'd have more people working during lunch hours. Which, come to think of it, explained why they didn't.
Derek frowned at his cell phone and wished that all the people there were gone. Then at least he could grab something to eat before trying to wrap his head around derivatives that afternoon.
Another space opened up in front, and Derek stepped forward, still preoccupied with Tetris. No back appeared in his vision, so he kept going. Finally, people were actually moving--about time.
He didn't realize how far he'd walked until he bumped right into the counter. Letting out a grunt of surprise, he finally looked up from his game. Turning around, he took in the cramped office space. There was no one there. No old man arguing with a harried worker about the results of his eye test, no spotty teenager getting his pictures taken, no woman talking loudly into her bluetooth headset.
"What the fuck?"
***
Bad ending. Well, it doesn't have an ending. Hm...
Apparently strange things occur to me when I'm really tired and should be falling asleep. (contorted corpse Tetris game? O.o)
The something boring: standing in line.
***
Derek was glad his phone had Tetris, because otherwise he might have killed a few people out of boredom already. He briefly imagined a game of Tetris played with contorted human corpses as he slotted a square into place before realizing the thought was probably morbid. His roommate Brian was a a psych major, and he was always going on about Derek's supposedly morbid outlook on life. Said it wasn't healthy, or whatever.
He felt a bit justified at the moment, though. Standing in line at the DMV had the atmosphere of a funeral combined with a shipwreck. Desperation and the consuming urge to get the fuck out while there were still lifeboats left tempered with the heavy, paralyzing weight of inevitability you feel when faced with the cruel fact of mortality.
Yeah... better to focus on the Tetris game. Derek mashed the buttons, trying to find a place for an L-shaped block. Damn thing was the wrong type of L. He ran out of time and swore as it plopped down ungracefully, leaving several spaces empty but inaccessible.
Many, many people into the distance, someone called, "Next!" The murmur of the crowd rose slightly as a wave of shuffling moved from the front to the back of the line. A space opened up in front of Derek in his peripheral vision, and he moved forward without taking his eyes off the little screen. He was never going to fix those empty spaces now; the higher the pile got, the harder it was to maneuver.
GAME OVER. Derek sighed and glanced at his watch before starting a new game. Twelve twenty--he had class in an hour, and this line was taking forever. Maybe he could grab a sandwich on the way back to campus. Which was more likely to get him in trouble with Professor Miles, he wondered. Falling asleep from hunger, or trying to eat a sandwich sneakily. Sounded like a no-win situation, really.
Why didn't they have more people at the desks, anyway? It was lunchtime, the time when people ran out of their cubicles and classrooms to do all the things they couldn't do while working. If the DMV people had any sense, they'd have more people working during lunch hours. Which, come to think of it, explained why they didn't.
Derek frowned at his cell phone and wished that all the people there were gone. Then at least he could grab something to eat before trying to wrap his head around derivatives that afternoon.
Another space opened up in front, and Derek stepped forward, still preoccupied with Tetris. No back appeared in his vision, so he kept going. Finally, people were actually moving--about time.
He didn't realize how far he'd walked until he bumped right into the counter. Letting out a grunt of surprise, he finally looked up from his game. Turning around, he took in the cramped office space. There was no one there. No old man arguing with a harried worker about the results of his eye test, no spotty teenager getting his pictures taken, no woman talking loudly into her bluetooth headset.
"What the fuck?"
***
Bad ending. Well, it doesn't have an ending. Hm...
Apparently strange things occur to me when I'm really tired and should be falling asleep. (contorted corpse Tetris game? O.o)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
