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BYOC (Bring Your Own Coffee) - Now With More Coffee!

So this week I'd like to add something, but you'll first have to see the other thing that inspired me to write this little poem.


The Daily Magnet #329


She's a fun poet and she's inspired me to write other little poems and vignettes based on the stories I perceive in her works. This is another addition to that slowly growing list.

Picture, if you will, a father on a hill. And a daughter that stands there beside him.


They gaze at the sky, and as time passes by, the little girl's face grows dim.


The father asks, "Why, my dear, do you cry?" She looks at her daddy distraught.


"The stars," she claims, "cannot play games. For there in the sky they are caught."


His arms open wide, and quick to his side, his littlest one does go.


"My dear," says he, "please listen to me. For there is something that you must know."


"The stars in the sky, they can hear you cry, and it makes them grow sad and dim.


The stars play with light, and for you this night, they'll glow if you give them a grin."


The girl wiped her face, stood up so straight, and nodded in understanding.


She looked at the stars, then raised up her arms, to the heavens above unending.


She smiled so wide that it touched him inside, and tears down his face did run.


And that night he swore, right down to his core, that her face shone bright as the sun.
 
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B R O K E N S Y M M E T R Y


ResonantStorm said:
Boots stomping on the ground outside,
The shouts of hate that I can't abide,


The clanging of weapons ringing through the air,


All those sounds that I just can't bear.


Stuck, hiding, alone in this room,


The chaos outside brings my impending doom.
Nitpicky, but your word choice is off here. If doom is impending, it is coming upon you inevitably. If something is bringing doom, then the doom isn't impending, exactly... It's context, you know? I hope that made sense.

ResonantStorm said:
I listen, shaking in fear of the end,
Here, loneliness is my only friend.


They howl, they yell, but they can't get in,


Prosecuted for committing that sin.
I feel like the backstory you're trying to add here isn't quite coming through. What sin? Who is being prosecuted? It sounds like the attackers, but in context that doesn't make sense.

ResonantStorm said:
But when did they receive so much power?
I'm certain it grows close to my final hour,


I remember, we sentenced them all to death,


But the joke is on us; it's our final breath.
Nice little inversion, there. I really love what you're trying to do here; I just think it could use a tune-up as far as wording goes, and maybe some expansion. Also, metaphor and poetic language, if you really want to stick to this format, may make it more palatable.
Training - (Another) Otherworld Outcast Short


[QUOTE="Mr. Grin]"Let me guess," I growled through a mouthfull of blood, spitting it to the floor (along with a tooth) before continuing. "I lack discipline."
Edward Forrey, my Grand Magus and teacher, snarled and cracked the gnarled wooden staff into the side of my face again. It was hard enough that everything went black and white for a second.


"Wrong. What you lack is respect, boy. You have plenty of discipline, yet you continue to hide your potential behind this unamusing jester act instead of taking the old teachings seriously."

[/QUOTE]
I like the inversion of that typical "You must learn discipline, young Padawan!" thing. So far so good, although first person perspective tends to throw me off. Personal preference, that.

[QUOTE="Mr. Grin]The older man spat on the ground and the spittle partially landed on my left knee. I nearly recoiled, but I was using most of my strength to try and stay conscious and heal the damage he'd already done with that damnable stick of his.
"I'd be more serious about it if I wasn't so god damn stir-crazy down here, Eddie," I fired back with a crazed giggle, trying to wipe the gore from my face with my good shoulder.

[/QUOTE]
Hm. He's fighting to stay conscious yet he's holding a conversation? I find that incongruous.

[QUOTE="Mr. Grin]It was difficult, hands bound behind me and all.
"These teachings are hundreds of years older than you, you insignificant mongrel! If you had any respect for the wizards that came before you, you'd kn--"


"KNOW WHAT!?" I roared, cutting him off. Fury, bright and hot, pulsed behind my swollen eyes as they widened to stare down the older Magus.


"Know that I've done more than any of them for our cause? Know that they only think they can hold power over me? Know that they forced my parents to abandon me to YOU of all fuckin' GOOPS?!"

[/QUOTE]
GOOPS! xD


My delight at that word aside, this is good, very good. Clear exposition without it being contrived or forced!

[QUOTE="Mr. Grin]The staff came down again, this time at the bridge of my nose and I heard a crack like a gunshot. The thrumming of my heartbeat was replaced with a dull ringing as I collapsed face down onto the wooden floor.
"I was wrong about you, Michael. You are not disciplined in the slightest," the echoing voice of the Magus spat bitterly.


"You are simply an animal... one that must, and WILL, be broken."

[/QUOTE]
Eurgh. Heevy jeebies. In the good way!

[QUOTE="Mr. Grin]Before I could shoot back any more smart-mouthed replies, everything went dark.
- - - - -


I finally woke, in a large stone bathtub, half submerged in some sort of glowing iridescent sludge. When I tried to move, I found myself stuck - though I couldn't be sure if it was the muck I'd been placed in, or my body simple refusing to obey me. Pain roared to life as I tried, and I groaned, fighting to keep consciousness.

[/QUOTE]
He fights for consciousness a lot, huh?


That aside, you got a typo in there!

[QUOTE="Mr. Grin]'You should lie still, child,' a familiar voice whispered in my head, its owner coming into view slowly from the shadow of the room.
The figure was tall and beautiful, black hair woven behind her back carefully and in a tight knot. Clad in clothes of a huntress, she moved with a predatory grace, sliding up to the bathtub and sitting along the edge carefully.


"Are you here to guide my soul away, Disani?" I croaked, throat straining from lack of use. "Or simply to have a chat while I'm stuck?"


Her eyes stared deep into mine, but she said nothing at first, just watching.


A beat passed in silence and I tried my best not to get agitated. I was stupid, sure, but not stupid enough to mouth-off to a goddess.

[/QUOTE]
Again - exposition which is neither contrived nor unclear!

[QUOTE="Mr. Grin]Calmly and carefully, she moved to set her quiver and bow on to the stone floor, then turned again to meet my gaze.
'I am only here to comfort you, child, as I always am. For all the days you live, I shall keep my promise to your grandmother.'


"I don't need comfort, I need an escape from all this," I scowled, then blinked and took a sharp (agonizing) breath.


The goddess only raised one black brow faintly, a hint of smile gracing one corner of her lips.


'You know you must continue this, Michael,' her voice sang in my head, hypnotizing and soothing. 'There are greater things ahead for you, despite your current short-sightedness.'


"So you keep telling me," I murmured bitterly, annoyed at how much I sounded like a spoiled child. "But the Magus only seem to want me to bend to their wills. Become just another puppet for them to drag around by the strings."


A laugh echoed in my head, an otherworldly chime of unimaginable glee. My eyes widened again at the disconnect of her calm face and the giddy joy that filled my thoughts.


'They have been like that as long as I know, Michael. There is little that can change that, in all of this realm and beyond.'

[/QUOTE]
I'm getting a very LotR elves vibe here. xD Not a bad thing.

[QUOTE="Mr. Grin]'However,' she continued, words growing more serious. 'It is not the slavery that you fear it will be. In all things, good child, there is choice. Heed these words, and remember them, for when the time comes.'
She stood and gathered her things, vanishing with a rush of cool air.


My consciousness vanished with her as my eyes closed again and I slept...

[/QUOTE]
Untitled - ETC


ETC said:
"discipline" was
pulling, shoving; is taking, haste


Turning my life

into paste



as deep as a puddle


and just about muddIed & still


1. Past confrontation +


present condescencion x passive-aggression


=


an abnormal "life lesson"


(1/1)


2. hope = ( -3x + 2 ) year


(1/1)


A+


100% = you > me


A = B


B =/= C


A = C


Remember! Imprint!


For the test of the real-live future, let's focus on a fact- the angels are spying, no one is crying, and this will all help you get back on the track (from which you seem to've detailed.)"
So this looks like it would be very good read aloud - has a rhythm to it, and internal rhyme I've noticed! However, the metaphor is very obtuse in parts. I'm getting bits and pieces, especially with the mathematical formulas, but it's not all coming together to form one clear picture. While technically whether it should or not is a matter of preference, I am of the opinion that one should be able to easily pull meaning from poetry. Just my two cents!
Crude But Effective


Grey said:
A single raindrop,
like tight fingers,


barely causes a ripple


yet our breath is held in antici


pation.
I totally get and appreciate what you're trying to do with that line break, but it's super overdone. See: Rocky Horror Picture Show, "Sweet Transvestite." And then some other pop culture references I haven't the proper motivation to go look up. Knowing you, I'm certain you could think of a fresh way to make the reader hang on a word.

Grey said:
A hailstone, harder
melts away quickly


but one might surmise


it was there.


Especially if it hit you.
I think your metaphor could be clearer, here. And really, this whole stanza could be condensed into a couple lines. The message here is potent, but the language economy poor.

Grey said:
Unmoored by the rising tide
You have a tendency in general towards water imagery, do you know that?

Grey said:
an oak descends, crashing
throwing up a wave


white-crested and overwhelming


to flood the shore.
There's something this stanza needs, but for the life of me... I'm not sure what. Maybe it's too vague? Or maybe it's language economy again? I find myself skimming, on occasion. One should never skim a poem.


Actually, it might be the shift from weather to waves. I think the idea is that there's a hailstorm going on which causes the rising tides and so on, but you don't get a sense that the weather is actually occurring in the first two stanzas and you don't make the connection that the rising tide is because of the rain and hail.

Grey said:
Two bodies are washed up
gasping for air and staring.


The rainbow is the arch


of an arm over shoulders.


Temporary, but sincere,


in the way of all flesh.
And despite the little criticisms here and there, I must say, the ending is very strong. It's what makes it all... come together and really... drives the metaphor home. :P
Starry Night


KamiKahzy said:
Picture, if you will, a father on a hill. And a daughter that stands there beside him.
They gaze at the sky, and as time passes by, the little girl's face grows dim.


The father asks, "Why, my dear, do you cry?" She looks at her daddy distraught.


"The stars," she claims, "cannot play games. For there in the sky they are caught."
I think - and this is a problem throughout the poem - the phrasing and sometimes the rhyme is unnatural. There are a lot of places where you organize sentences in a rather archaic way ("does go," for example), and while there's a time and place for that, I don't believe this is it.

KamiKahzy said:
His arms open wide, and quick to his side, his littlest one does go.
"My dear," says he, "please listen to me. For there is something that you must know."


"The stars in the sky, they can hear you cry, and it makes them grow sad and dim.


The stars play with light, and for you this night, they'll glow if you give them a grin."


The girl wiped her face, stood up so straight, and nodded in understanding.


She looked at the stars, then raised up her arms, to the heavens above unending.


She smiled so wide that it touched him inside, and tears down his face did run.


And that night he swore, right down to his core, that her face shone bright as the sun.
I do love the ending! There is a line of extended metaphor which is really gratifying to see to the conclusion. Just work on a more natural way of writing when you do this.
 
Another week, another piece of writing! You lot haven't been voting in the polls lately, so I'm going to start announcing winners in hopes of it enticing you.




Last week's poll results here.

Poll Winners



This week's poll here.

This week's theme: Equal.

@SachiGrl @Aur0ra


Let's see more of you next week!


@Lady Odyssey @Tronethiel @Saturnity @amybri18 @Sunbather @Scattered Ambitions @Jaysun @SkyGinge @Semblance @simj22 @PopcornandCaramel @Kloverdesu @Zilla @Demon @AllHailDago


Haven't heard from you guys in a while!
 
drops and flees

I pushed you away from me and towards me


all at once, promising days of sun drenched,


whiskey scented ramblings. I kissed you then—


tasting of Guinness and sweat, knowing


that I would never get enough, knowing


that I would pull you back to me, knowing


I would not wash the scent of you from my sheets


—but you stayed and I found metaphors in your eyes,


only to find myself desperately searching


for you in everyone I've ever met.


I’m sorry I chose you.
 
Thanks for that, Noms. I definitely hamstrung myself by sticking to an arbitrary structure. I think I'll clean it up, later.
 
Ack, I'll try to put something in this week. I'm just having a lot of personal problems and I don't have much time to write
 
This is far from the best piece of writing I've done, or even a good piece, but it's something.


And I'd Cried


As I thought on what I'd spied,


As I knew how much she'd lied,


As a part of me shrank and died,


I sat myself down, I wept and I cried.


I let myself cry the first time that day,


I convinced myself that there was no other way,


I cut her away, so she shant have a say,


Now it's come to light that I'm, perhaps, not okay.


I wasn't her equal, of that I was sure,


But that hadn't diminished her darkened allure,


Of all of the things I've sought to endure,


None of them made me that damn insecure.


None of those things made me wish I was dead,


None of them made my feet heavy as lead,


None of them filled me with quite this much dread,


None of them as dark as the night we were wed.


At the beginning it didn't feel much like a crime,


As we said our vows, I heard the bells chime,


As we said our vows, I saw her soul start to climb,


Throwing me down in the dirt and the grime.


As she threw me down, I seemed inert,


To the err in my ways I couldn't come alert,


Her words became sharp, distanced and curt,


I realize now she'd just once been a flirt.
 
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I mostly just lurk. Been so tired lately for much creative work other than a few infrequent posts here and there.


(lately = the last 2 months?)
 
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I feel that! We all have those slumps.


Fortunately BYOC isn't very demanding. 5 or 10 minutes of forcing yourself to write will get you something worth putting on here, because remember, it doesn't have to be good or long. ^-^


By the way, guys... I read Delilah's Requiem at open mic last night and it went over really, really well. :D
 
@Anomaly - Thanks for the critique! Yeah, I really have to get a bit more clear on Michael 'fighting consiousness!' Haha.


In the first mention, especially, I meant to go into more detail about his powers there: he's using magic to keep himself conscious and a bit more 'there'. HOWEVER, to someone that doesn't have the characters backstory in their head, that reads really poorly. Will keep that in mind for the next time.


Also... do you know how long I've been meaning to use goops in something?! And Michael being from that era only makes it all the more perfect~


And yeah, I can dig the first person perspective throwing people off. Despite the evidence here, it's not my chosen method of writing, but I think that's why I keep using it. Gotta' improve somehow, right? :V
 
Ooh, hello. Thanks for inviting me in.


I think I can make the deadline. Will be be nice stress-relief exercise.
 
In the Mind of a Hellion


written by Osmond the Leper, as performed by Ros the Jester


I'll cut your colours with my teeth--


rip rip ribbons from the seams.


Raise banner high and sword higher,


be but air and temp'ring fire.


So here's your deliverance


to liberté, égalité.


I'll drink you in, revel in worse.


When wine runs dry, steel slake my thirst.


Wear leathers, armour, be all bones--


this blade cuts blood from beasts of stone.


Meet my glaive and depart hence


to liberté, égalité.


(This is a piece of fanwork but should function as a standalone.)
 
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From the Other Side of the Door
@Poe I kept rereading it and feeling more and more like a stumbling drunk in love, drunk on love. Every stanza enhances the effect. The last one really lingers with you.


I'm not sure about the meaning behind the title though. I keep imagining someone curled up in a doorway, cradling an empty bottle instead of the keys.
And I'd Cried
@Meredith There were two lines I was confused by, but also one line I really liked.

Meredith said:
None of them as dark as the night we were wed.
It seems like the narrator was crying over something they witnessed recently, yet it was not as bad "as the night we were wed"?

Meredith said:
As we said our vows, I saw her soul start to climb.
Another line I'm confused by. I read a soul climbing as someone dying and going heavenward, but that doesn't seem to be the intent.
Some stanzas had lines that felt extraneous, particularly the first, but I like the winding feel due to the irregular line length, because it's as if it embodies the narrator's state of mind.

Meredith said:
Now it's come to light that I'm, perhaps, not okay.
Is my favourite line, for that little "perhaps" that says a lot.


 
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*peaks in*


lazy people, why did you let this die????? (:'()(TAT)


*is the laziest person in existence*
 
It's not dead, exactly! I actually intended to write the turnover this weekend. In the last couple weeks I quit my job and now I'm looking for a new one, so it's been kinda crazy and I've been creatively drained. Whatever I have generally goes to RP replies. BUT, that is inexcusable and therefore I am making an effort to change it!
 

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