Thursday, July 27, 2006

I Long for some Pie

My cravings inside
will sure not subside
until you break down
and serve me some pie.

Apple, Blueberry,
Lemon Meringue.
Sweet or chocolatey,
or one with some tang.

I would not even mind
if you haven't a fork,
I would eat with my face,
and looklike a dork.

Now I sit down,
Math homework I eye,
Could I please have
some pie with my pi?
---

(From the 7/28 meeting.)

Yes, two pie poems in one night. What are we, milkandcookies.com? (Okay, inside joke, sorry.)

I love the rythmic nature of the first two lines of the second stanza. Reminds me of how my piano teacher used to teach young students to play triplets with words like "blueberry".

Forgive the horrible math joke at the end. I had to slip one in somewhere, didn't I?
N+7: An Odor to Maggi's Teflon

Although she appears as an innocent pogo stick,
Confront her and you will find a horrible period.
Concealed behind here furtive liposuction
are threatening weasels poised to strike.
It is what keeps me awake at nine,
Beware of Maggi's Teflon.

Gnawing, gnashing, grinding, piercing,
Ripping, tearing, slashing, shredding,
Her sharp, pointed whiz
is like metal daiquiries gleaming bright.
It is what scares the chili dogs away.
Beware of Maggi's Teflon.

Under gothic drills and gleaming smock
lie feral ragtops and cunning guilt.
Do not irk her with lofty arses,
lest she consume you in bloody vipers.
It is what keeps us awake at nine,
Beware of Maggi's Teflon.
---

(From the 7/28 meeting)

For this poem, I took the original Ode to Maggi's Teeth, and replaced every significant noun with the noun in the dictionary seven nouns away (or the closest one to that which was reasonably understandable). The result was this quirky, Mad Libs-esque poem.

However, by fate, it worked out to be "threatening weasels poised to strike", I don't know. It's just perfect.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

A poem that I have written. Please don't ask what inspired it, you won't get an answer. Just tell me if it's TOO confusing. I'm thinking of making a story with the people in this poem though, because they've been dancing around in my head for a while. For anyone who catches this before tomorrow's meeting, please critique!
------------------


Perfect contrast, perfect pair

One with brown, one with blonde hair.

They’ve always been the best of friends,

Always side by side, ‘til the end.

One’s the Earth, one’s the air,

Perfect contrast, perfect pair.

One needed saving, one’s the savior,

One takes away the horrors of a war.

One of dark chocolate, one of white,

Both so sweet, but only one in the light.

Like the most beautiful nightmare,

Perfect contrast, perfect pair.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Just for fun I decided to mess around with a silly story. Here is part 1.345

The Birthday Wish



Randy was four going on five when his parents had the Birthday Wish talk with him. His parents sat him down at the dinner table on a Sunday a few days before his birthday. They had their backs to the kitchen, Randy had his back to the front door of their house. They talked to him very seriously, almost like he was a grown up. He listened.
"Randy," His Mother said, "This Wednsday you will turn 5 and on Saturday we are having your birthday party."

"Yeah," Said Randy. He'd known this for a few weeks.

"Grandpa and Grandma Johnson will be here." He knew that too. "Grandpa and Grandma Simpson will be here." Also old news. "All of your cousins will be here and both my brothers and your Dad's sister and brother."

Randy had no response to such old news.

"Randy," Mother continued, "Aren't you a little curious about all these people coming to your birthday party? Don't you want to know why?"

"I know why."

"Why?"

"Because it's my birthday."

"Well, yes. But you know about your fifth birthday right?"

"Yeah, I get to make a wish this time."

Randy didn't know what his mother was getting at. All he knew was that this year he was going to be allowed to make a wish when he blew out the candles on his cake. It's all he'd been thinking about for weeks now. He and a couple of other kids at school with birthdays close to his had been counting this day down together. It seemed really important, like the first time you were allowed to take the dog outside by yourself or going more than two days without wetting the bed.

"It's a special wish, Randy." His Mom said.

"I know because it might come true. I mean, that's what I've heard at school. Is it true?"

"If you do it right you wish may come true."

"Yes, Randy. We wouldn't tell you a fib about something as serious as a birthday wish."

"What can I wish for?"

His Father continued, "Well, anything at all, I guess. But it's best to keep it simple the first time."

"Uh huh."

"As you get older you might work on something more complictated but this Saturday I would keep it very simple."

"Why?"

"Well, it's your first time and the more simple the wish the better chance it will be granted."

"OK, keep it simple."

"Right."

His parents let him go outside after the discussion trailed off. Randy bounded down the steps that led to the garage and went on the other side of the garage where he couldn't be seen from the house. The garage was connected to the house by a breezeway and with the garage between him and the house he had as much privacy as he could wish for. The house was surrounded by woods so if his parents couldn't see him, no one could. He grabbed a stick and started absentmindedly hitting things. He hit the side of garage, a couple of nearby trees bordering the turn around on the side of the building, the barrell the family used to burn garbage and he picked up a couple of rocks and tossed them to himself and wacked the ones he didn't miss into the woods.

What should he wish for, he wondered. Another dog? Where was his dog? He must be inside. If he was outside with me he'd be chasing those rocks I just hit in the woods. How about an X-Station 920 Turbo? Does the wish include games? It has to. Mine will. That's it then, easy choice: an X-Station 920 Turbo...with four controllers and five games. That seems fair. Four controllers might be too much. OK, two controllers. That will allow me and dad to play baseball and it won't be asking for a whole lot. Mom and Dad can get me the controllers since they won't have to buy the game system. He hit a few more rocks into the woods before his mom called him in for Sunday dinner.

Monday, July 24, 2006

Workshop this! I'm not sure if I really like this poem. But nobody else has posted anything and this is the first rhyming poem I've written in forever. And the whole purpose of workshopping is to make the writing better. So here ya go.

Mother dear, where are you?
Gone so many years,
The laughter has come back to me,
But then, so have the tears.

Mother dear, I'm so confused,
You were my guiding hand.
Now it is so hard to thrive,
In this increasingly darkening land.

Mother dear, I need you here,
I still cry in bed at night.
It all happened so suddenly,
You went quickly into the light.

Mother dear, come back, I plead,
I know it is in vain.
We've lost you now forever,
You'll never come back again.

I've edited it a bit but it still feels a bit too angsty instead of communicating the feeling of loss, need, and acceptence I was trying for. I started writing it (and you can see the influence in the third stanza) after rereading "Do Not Go Quickly Into That Good Night" by Dylan Thomas. Only I said she went into the light and in his poem he says to "rage, rage against the dying of the light."
What makes a classic a classic?

Just saw this and I thought it was a nice short article about what is required to make a piece of literature a classic.

I don't know about you but I always thought a piece of literature qualified as classic if it held up over time. I see they mention that in this article. I've always wondered what SF classics might become plain-ole classics over time. If I had to pick one it would probably be "A Canticle for Leibowitz" by Walter M. Miller. It's got a sense of wonder, it's funny and thoughtful.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

More adjustimication of schedule and work shopping

OK, how does the third Thursday of November sound? Novemember 16th it will be.

If you would like anything workshopped I would post it here by Monday night so the rest of us can have time to read it closely and make notes before our meeting on Thursday.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Adjustify your calendars

In November we are going to meet on the fifth Thursday of the month because the fourth Thursday is Thanksgiving. Since I am so good at scheduling I forgot that the fourth Thursday of November has been Thanksgiving since 1942.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Well, I was going to post this, but Matthew beat me to it.

As I'm going to Asheville for college in the fall, this meeting is also going to be my last for quite some time. I should be able to come to the November and December meetings, but after that, nothing until next summer.

See, now it looks like I'm trying to one-up Matthew, when that wasn't at all my intention. I'm just letting you know.

Friday, July 14, 2006

Sad News

As you all know, I'm going off to school at NCSSM this year. I leave on August 19th, so this makes the next meeting my last for quite a while. Of course, I'll still be in touch via the blog and e-mail, and will still be spending plenty of weekends in Charlotte.

Assuming that all writer's club meetings take place on the fourth Thursdays of each month, I should be able to make the December and January meetings (albeit about a half hour late to the January meeting). Of course, the dates of the meetings change, so it is likely that I will be able to attend more.

On a lighter note, I will officially be taking a class on short story writing, which should either improve my writing dramatically, or drive me completely insane. Either should be fun.
Okay, to update those that are curious about The Mediocres. The update for Monday is drawn and the next three strips are scripted. It really will update on Monday. There will also be a big explanation/apology in the comments that you must read. Otherwise you may be very confused in the coming weeks.

Also, in a few minutes I'm going to post a couple poems I wrote, specifically for the purpose of the workshopping/criticizing/whatever thingy that we are planning for next meeting. No one else has stepped up to the plate so...here I go. The quality of these poems is questionable.

One more thing. What happened to the new girls from the last meeting? Were they planning on joining the blog? Have they abandoned us like all the others? I feel so alone... *sob*
I'm at ImaginOn right now, and I've just seen Meghan. I've specifically provided her with the date of the next meeting, so if she's not there we have an excuse to mock her.

Alan Poindexter just walked by. I have to go be a fanboy.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Where is it?

All right, where's that new Mediocres? What's the hold up? Why the slow down? What is the reason for this absence? Does anyone know why there hasn't been a new Mediocres in, like, a year. As George Bush once said, bring it on.

Monday, July 03, 2006

Just a thought

You know, if you have a three year old maybe you shouldn't bring him to the adult section of the library. Especially if you aren't going to keep an eye on him or his four-year-old brother. I hate when this happens because she's probably a single mom and she's here by herself and I'm sure she doesn't get a chance to check her email that often but free range three year old's just don't belong among old men reading the paper.