"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
Pictures that go places while we go toward NaPo I guess
"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
Last edited by Ventomology on Tue May 02, 2023 3:41 am, edited 33 times in total.
"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
I meant to comment on this earlier >.> I love all your warm-ups! They're delightfully creative, and I especially liked Warm-up #2 with the way each word starts with the sound that the previous word ended with. It's like a game! I would also love to visit all the places in the images. :3 Also, random, but your handwriting is so neat. And your lowercase 'a's are so cute xD Looking forward to seeing your poetry this April! <3
An old man paces. He talks to everyone. His accent is so Chicago it comes out like the Great Plains- long and flat and wide. He wears a clean, stiff Cubs hat and clean, stiff jeans, and his voice sounds like it needs to be deep-cleaned.
A boy and his mother sit in the corner. His mother keeps her legs together, hands in her pockets, posture tidy except for the long stretch of her, back low against the seat and feet far away in front of her. Her son plays video games with the sound on for all of us to hear. He accuses the old man of being a liar every other comment in that tinny, boyish tone. "Liar, liar pants on fire." "No you're not. No you're not."
At 10:10, a crowd of young women, who have been whispering about the old man, all leave together. Their train is ready.
The woman and her son leave. The old man gathers up crinkly paper bags full of unknown things and leaves.
Now there is another old man, who shuffles in with a reusable grocery bag and a silver umbrella. He taps the fare machine, slow and practiced. He shuffles to a seat.
Now there is another mother. This one has four children. Or at least, there are four children with her. Some may be friends of her children. The youngest is the same age as the boy from before. There is a teenage girl with cat-eye glasses that reflect the lifeless flourescent lights in this tiny waiting room. The two older boys have their backs to me, both their sweatshirt hoods pulled up.
A bald, middle-aged man sits in front of me. He is writing in a notebook. It looks like poetry. I can see intent in the breaks of each line, and his pen scrawls slowly over the page in neat, tidy letters.
A fifth child arrives. She is younger than the other girl child, and she wears her hair in perfect, pointy french-braided pigtails. I notice now that every member of that family is wearing a hoodie.
I finally peer out the windows of this little room. People are headed toward platform one. I unplug my phone, on its last pixels in the little battery in the corner. The platform goes forever, a slab of smudged concrete lit by arrival screens and the one room where we wait in air conditioning. The darkness consumes it somewhere.
The darkness will consume me, once I am on my train. It will consume all who leave the room. Hopefully we are spit out someday.
"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
It's really cool that you're sharing your warm-ups! I love seeing another poet's process, and I feel like including your warm-up work in your NaPo thread is a great way to remind everyone that no work is wasted, even if it's not immediately part of a final draft or a poem you share. Also love how you're warm-ups are so visually freeform and creative! Really letting loose and getting comfortable!
she/her/they acethetic and paronoid *waves leafy fronds*
"What's in a name! that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet"-- So sayeth Juliet to Romeo In hormone-fueled, illicit confidence. Repeated oft, this awful phrase is played As peak romance, insipid soul-mate shit. But think on it, Dear Hallmark; hallmark of True Love these words could never hope to be. Not only come they from the mouths of babes, Who in absurd romantic comedy Meet their fates by miscommunicating, But names are weighed by those who wore them first.
Upon the train who stops all traffic in Town, I bequeath the name: "Ever Given."
Enspoilered for one (1) bad word.
"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
Oh gosh I love the warm-ups so much and the hand-written aesthetic too - it feels really "in the moment" and I especially love how that spiral poem turned out, those are fun to write and making it a play off of sonnets is cool too. There's a lot of strong lines in poem "one" as well - I especially like this one: "His accent is so Chicago it comes out like the Great Plains- long and flat and wide. " what a great comparison there, it made me smile! Looking forward to following your thread Vent!
you should know i am a time traveler & there is no season as achingly temporary as now
lol I wrote this at work. Management is slowly draining my team of people and soon I will be unsupervised.
Last edited by Ventomology on Tue Apr 04, 2023 9:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
Ahh the "to rot in plastic purgatory for the rest of time." D': I hate wasting food, so that really hit me. :') The repetition of "no" and "no one" is great too, and I love the image! <3
Anyway we've been having some weather. Transcription under the cut.
Spoiler
I wish That when I spun out of control, A tornado, a twister, Tangled up in all the powers that be,
That I caused enough damage, Hurt enough people,
That someone would see.
I flounder in a bathtub That drains so slowly Even the water does not spin, Contained,
Unseen.
"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
Miss you Miss you Cross the Mississippi just to pat and play and Kiss you
<3
"I've got dreams like you--no really!--just much less, touchy-feeley. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone surrounded by enormous piles of money." -Flynn Rider, Tangled
