forum Virtual Creative Writing Club, anyone?

Started July 06, 2019 by @ninja_violinist

tune

yeah I get that yeah, you got it across really well

Based on the image prompt -

Once I was young,
Sat atop concrete art.
Dreaming of who I was to be,
How I would play my part.

Once I was free,
Jumping around, having fun.
Having fun with friends,
Even if I had just one.

Once I was vibrant,
Soaring through the art of others.
By then I was alone,
I escaped my tethers.

Once I loved,
Selflessly doing kind acts.
It soon became too much,
those are just the facts.

Once I had a home,
With love and happiness.
It soon turned sour,
I fled with hastiness.

Once I was happy,
Playing with graffiti in a ballet.
I wonder if I'll find someone, somewhere.
Maybe not now, but someday.

I like it! It does seem a tiny bit repetitive during the second stanza, disrupting the flow a bit when you repeat the word fun. Other than that, I like how simply written it is.

I have an entry this week for once. I was inspired a little while ago to use a couple tv tropes that had always kind of bugged me, at least in their portrayal. So I ended up with this clusterfuck and I love it.

---

We are the cliches.

We are the dumb white girls in horror movies,
Investigating the things that go bump in the night.
But we are chasing, we are not seeking.
There's nothing dumber
Than looking for something that could kill you,
We know.
But we’re sick of waiting, meeting our worst fears head on
We are teeth bared.
Sidney Prescotts and Nancy Thompsons, turning the game on it’s head.
The ones who decided a cat-and-mouse game was boring,
The ones who realized those only work
If the mouse never learns to be a cat.

We are the geek to chic cliches,
The glow-ups in low-cut shirts and high heels, every step a knife game.
We are ‘lipstick never fails’ and wings so sharp,
They could cut a man.
This ain’t for no boy.
We better ourselves, for ourselves.
Confidence is key and we’ve locked ourselves up,
Behind the personalities and clothes society
Said would make us comfortable,
Make us beautiful.
We are finding comfort in our bodies, in ourselves,
Feeling confident, to be confident.

We are the ‘manic pixie dream girls’.
Labelled one dimensional by the world,
Given a personality full of quirks and told that expressing feelings
Is for the main characters.
We are supporting characters and love interests,
A bottle of hairdye and glitter on our skin,
Objectified and mystified.
We are hearts littered with rips and folds and souls heavy
With fear, hearts on our sleeves and smiles on our lips.
So many dimensions they’re not sure what to do with them,
Scared to admit that we are people
So they cover us up with a caricature.

We are the cliches, the tropes you use to get a laugh.
We are people, torn into something less than half by a view
That doesn’t see all of us.

What Would I Say (I’ve kinds just had this blep of writing on my mind. This was a real conversation between my bf and I on Saturday)

---

“What would you say to your seventh grade self if you could tell her that we reached this place? When we first met each other? Would you tell her she would get here?”

My answer was one to consider.

Did I ever expect myself to find myself under the stars with a long-time friend? One to whom I had grown to fondly care- or love- for?

Expect to find myself even in high school? Beyond the struggle of freshman year and the darkness of my own mind? The stress, the agony of entering the process of figuring out your own mind and body?

The light of the north star glistens ahead; he gazes, waiting for my answer as I bite my lip. The lights of the other stars twinkle ahead, waiting to grasp the ashes of my story in their hungry eyes. The quiet music that companied us seemed to quiet on its own as I simply considered myself and my own position.

“No,” I finally answered. “I wouldn’t want to tell her. I’d want it to play out on its own.” I take a surreptitious glance at my company, taking my eyes briefly from the sky. I find familiar brown eyes on mine.

“I guess you’re right,” answered the soft voice from my right. Our gazes locked. “We took a certain set of circumstances to get here, and we wouldn’t want to do anything to mess it up.”

However, I didn’t want to consider not saying anything. It felt like my life was just beginning with the question.

aaaw. that's so great emi!! parts of it are cute and sweet, while others hint towards a deeper, sadder sort of set of events, and you do well bringing them to life! i will say, the part with the care-or love- for bit is a tiny smidge clunky, so a little rewording would help with that, but honestly there's not much to critique at all and i love how heartfelt it is!

aaaa thanks!! Most of the time I write straight from my ass so I don’t take wordiness or clunkiness into consideration until I take a second read. But thanks again for the critique! It’s not a very large piece so there’s not much to think about it, but ye

So…I wrote this poem after listening to "Far From Home (The Raven)" by Sam Tinnesz. Idk lol

---

I’m sending a raven,
black bird from on high.
I’m sending a song,
A melody from the sky.
I’m sending
A prayer.
Hoping it reaches you
In time. Hoping I’m not
Alone.
I’m here in the darkness
Alone in the night.
The raven cries and hope is gone
And so am
I. I’m out here in the night,
Without a prayer. Hope has fled
On wings of soot and I
Can only wait. Waiting
For a message. From
Wings of ink. You're on the other
Side, and I’m
Alone. So I’m
Sending a raven. A message from
The night. I’m waiting here alone
For some kind of sign. So send back
The raven. Send back the light,
For I’m waiting here alone, without
Hope in sight.

all right guys! please take caution, somewhat rushed and questionable feedback incoming

@Yamatsu - I love the imagery and atmosphere in this one!! You give really vivid and poignant descriptions that, intermixed with the backstory, make this feel bitter, nostalgic, but also hopeful. Really well done!
I couldn't think of much to critique tbh - if I squint, I might recommend revising the description of what Boston used to look like? there's nothing wrong with it per se, but the latter half of the sentence (esp. "acting as a melting pot for all of New England") feels a bit vague compared to the detail in the other descriptions.
but yeah, that's only a super minor nitpick. Thanks for sharing!

@Icefire
first one: that's so wholesome?? so hopeful? I love it. Greek mythology doesn't always have the most uplifting message, so this is a really cool twist!
I guess the ending kind of caught me off guard though - this may just be a me thing, but I would have expected there to be a last stanza that kind of tied the whole thing together, if that makes sense? something that summed up the main message of "doing the best with the powers that you've been given" in a (forgive the use of technical terminology) Big Final Thing. But I also see the appeal of leaving it open as you did. so idk.
second one: a completely different vibe that I'm also here for. The mix of run-ons and enjambments gives it a frantic, unsettled feel. I'm guessing the choice not to use stanzas but keep it all in one bloc is intentional? because I think it really works in this case.
I can't really think of much to give in the way of feedback here, tbh.
either way, really well done! thank you for sharing!

@Circe-needs-a-creativity-recharge
oh my. like Icefire said, reading that made me physically ache. you definitely got the emotion across.
I honestly don't think I can critique this? It seems way too personal to go through and nitpick, especially since it already perfectly achieves what you want it to. It's angry, and it's raw, and I think it should stay that way.
(that being said, there is one spelling thing - I think you mean "saying her piece" instead of "saying her peace"?)

@The-Absurd-Nerd
Whoa, what a cool interpretation of the image!! I love how you build up the motifs of art and movement to the final stanza with "graffiti in a ballet". Really good job!
Favourite line: "Soaring through the art of others"
One thing I noticed is that even though you have a very consistent ABCB rhyme scheme, the rhythm of the individual stanzas don't always match each other. That can make the poem feel a bit choppy sometimes. I also wonder if there might be a few times where there could be a more effective rhyme (for example, "those are just the facts" in stanza 4)? In those cases, it can sound like you're prioritising the rhyme scheme over the content of what you're saying, which can also add to the choppiness.
But overall it's a bittersweet, but ultimately hopeful poem that I definitely enjoyed! Thank you so much for sharing!

@crocs
I highkey love this. It's so sassy and confident and angry. Also "We are hearts littered with rips and folds and souls heavy/ With fear, hearts on our sleeves and smiles on our lips" hits like a gut punch and honestly has fake Obama quote energy.
Minor nitpick, but I'm not fully sure about what you're trying to say with: "But we're sick of waiting, meeting our worst fears head on". It kind of implies that they're sick of both waiting and of meeting their fears head on? which I don't think is the point you're trying to get across? Also, another minor nitpick, but there doesn't seem to be much of a connection between "meeting our worst fears head on" and "We are teeth bared" - I'd suggest some form of punctuation there.
but yeah. that's just me being picky. this is still absolutely fabulous. Thank you for sharing!

@Emi-Is-a-Full-Moon-Lover
this puts into words something I think about a lot but can't often express. It's really beautifully put, honestly it hovers somewhere in the grey zone between poetry and prose at this point.
Like crocs said, there are a few clunky bits (like "quiet music" that "seemed to quiet on its own", or a two-sentence long tense switch in the paragraph that follows) but I'm guessing those would clean up quite naturally if you chose to revise this. so. yeah.
Thank you for sharing!!

And the prompts for this week:

Image prompt: "naah dude, chill, i don't wanna fight. just sat down to rest for a lil bit" (yes that's the real title) by Tomislav Jagnjic

Music prompt: "Waves" (Acoustic) by Dean Lewis

Word prompt: from "Edge" by Sylvia Plath (I really recommend you read the whole thing)

The woman is perfected.
Her dead
Body wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a Greek necessity
Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare
Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.

@Icefire
first one: that's so wholesome?? so hopeful? I love it. Greek mythology doesn't always have the most uplifting message, so this is a really cool twist!
I guess the ending kind of caught me off guard though - this may just be a me thing, but I would have expected there to be a last stanza that kind of tied the whole thing together, if that makes sense? something that summed up the main message of "doing the best with the powers that you've been given" in a (forgive the use of technical terminology) Big Final Thing. But I also see the appeal of leaving it open as you did. so idk.
second one: a completely different vibe that I'm also here for. The mix of run-ons and enjambments gives it a frantic, unsettled feel. I'm guessing the choice not to use stanzas but keep it all in one bloc is intentional? because I think it really works in this case.
I can't really think of much to give in the way of feedback here, tbh.
either way, really well done! thank you for sharing!

First: Aww thanks! I've been in a real greek mythology mood lately and i wrote that lol. Yeah, I wanted to add on a last stanza, but I couldn't think of anything :')
Second: Haha thanks! Yeah I left it as one on purpose, because I couldn't think of a way to break it up lmao
Thanks!

thanks ninja! I took your advice and switched some things up, just in time because I actually last minute decided to use it at an open mic today! and people seemed to love it! I really appreciate the critiques, they've been super helpful, especially with the recent poems!!!

Hey that's so cool! I'm glad the feedback is helpful sometimes

I tried to do a story using only dialogue, so hopefully, this comes out semi-decent.

"Die, monster! You don't belong in this world!"

"Alright, first off, rude. Second off, I'm tired, alright?"

"You can speak, giant?"

"Yes, I can. My name is sound of rocks grinding together, but you can call me Jim!"

"Jim."

"Yes."

"Jim the stone god."

"Eh, I wouldn't call myself a god, per se, but I do look pretty chiseled, don't I? Eh? Eh?"

"Hilarious. Please elaborate on why you have been wreaking havoc on this town before I cut out whatever you use as vocal cords."

"Naah, dude! Chill, I don't wanna fight!"

"You don't?"

"Just sat down to rest for a lil' bit."

"On top of our rice paddies?"

"Oh shit, is that what this is? My bad, I'll move."

"At this point, a rocky ass-print is the least of this town's concerns."

"Really? What's up?"

"There is trouble brewing in the Southern Kingdom, and the emperor of this kingdom is ineffective at protecting his people."

"Yeah, I felt somethin' weird the other day when I was walking around on the mountain. Y'think that might be connected somehow?"

"If by 'something weird' you mean an overwhelming sense of dread followed by large tremors, then yes, we might be thinking of the same thing."

"Well, I mean, I've got nothing better to do. You seem like this town's protector, right?"

"Yes, I am Yagyu Jubei Mitsuyoshi, and I am here to protect this town from invaders such as yourself!"

"Man, you have GOT to learn to chill, alright? I was about to offer a deal!"

"What could you have to offer me, golem?"

"I dunno, protection? Think of it this way, if what I think is coming is, in fact, coming, then you're gonna need someone a whole lot stronger in your corner, and I don't know if you noticed, but…"

"Fine, fine! I understand, you don't need to keep posing and flexing. You've already caused enough damage as it is."

"Shit, my bad. So do we have a deal?"

Sigh "Fine. Deal."

((i'd be down, if you still need someone to!))

That'd be great, thank you so much!

I don’t think I like the last stanza of this, but the rest of it is honestly my favorite thing. If it had been written by someone who could do it justice that would have been even better. Anyway, am I writing a lot about character tropes? Yeah. Am I gonna stop? Eventually but probably not for a while. If anyone has any tips on fixing the last chunk I would greatly appreciate it

---

The first out is the party girl,
The loose one,
In preferred terms the whore.
She’s everyone’s favorite promiscuous blonde,
Floral dresses and daisy dukes, feature accentuating and demonized.
She’s empathetic and sweet.
She wants her friends to be okay, sees the longing and
The emotions underlying.
Watches the people around her like she knows
Exactly how it feels to hide.
Smarter than she’s given credit for she observes,
Let’s out a laugh at a bad joke or a cat call.
Everyone’s favorite good time.
Too bad dying isn’t any fun.

Comedic relief only sticks around
Long enough to give you a couple laughs.
He’s dumb, a stoner with no sense of the world around him,
A joke to the audience and the screenwriters.
He’s stoned the whole movie and he’s seeing
Everything the others can’t.
They say the more you laugh the harder you hurt and
When you’re bleeding out against a wall,
Laughing is a whole lot better than hurting.
He makes it as far as he can and sometimes
There he is back from the dead.
Just like that laugh.
He still dies.

Next up on the death list, the athlete.
The jock, big and decent looking, dimpled grins
And alpha male tendencies so thickly layered you wonder
‘How the hell can anyone believe him’.
He’s strong. He’s angry.
And he’s smart.
Start athlete and star student, outshone by the kid with the softer features
He knows where his place is in this script.
But he knows so much,
Eats up learning like he’s carbo-loading, watches for patterns in games and in life.
He dies protecting his friends.

The golden boy tries,
Does everything he can to be the good person,
The role model.
He’s smart and he’s good looking and,
And
And.
He does the right thing, every time the choice comes up.
When every part of him wants to be selfish, wants so badly
To make the wrong choice just once.
He gets the girl and he waits,
Waits until she’s ready and waits until she notices him.
The voice of reason every time,
He’s trying to survive in a world marked by grey.
It doesn’t save him in the end.

Final girls are pure.
The ‘virgin’, last one standing because she’s careful.
She runs, doesn’t fight,
The screenwriters drag her along like a puppet on a string,
The model of purity and the symbol
Of good.
She picks up the gun and she doesn’t hesitate before she shoots.
Doesn’t wait for the thing to come to her
And when the monster comes back the first time,
She makes sure he’s dead the next.
The game was predetermined so she made up her own rules, played her own game.
She dies, but she picks how.
And she smiles while the world crumbles.

The paint chipping on old tropes isn’t the only problem,
When the cores are failing.
They grab hold of their own fates and when who they are is pulled away from them
They hold tighter.
The director’s chair is on fire now,
Manufactured personalities crumbling under the pressure of knowing
That the shape people take is only half
Of who they are.

Wow. I really really liked that, @crocs . That was fabulous

Just—
"The shape people take is only half / of who they are."

Fbfghf that’s one of the few lines there in that last bit that I’m actually proud of

Damn right, it's absolutely stunning

Woah oh my gosh that's amazing
Do you watch Button Poetry videos? Because I love them and your poems always remind me of one of the videos I would watch

I do!!!
Funny enough, they’re actually what got me in to writing poetry. I stumbled across one on accident and fell in love with the style and slams. Sarah Kay and andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)/Andrea Gibson are some of my biggest inspirations, though Blythe Baird is also up there. I’m so honored my style actually makes you think of any of them??

Oh my god I love Sarah Kay.
Yes, it totally reminds me of them. I honestly wish I could see you perform it in a video or something, cause that would be really, really cool. I think that of literally every poem you write.

did you see her Ted talk, and the poem at the beginning? so soft I love it

im honestly not that great at performing. I've done it twice now and have a couple more dates up, but everytime I get all panicky and shakey. if you want though, I can have someone record the next one I do and post it here?