3WW, Big Tent Poetry, Poetry

not like yesterday

big tent poetry: write something opposite of your usual style. something that feels a little awkward, kind of like writing with your “other” hand; three word wednesday: drink, feeble, predict; photo: Style Splash, Drippy2009, flickr

the look of long drinkable sentences taste foreign and bitter. already i am distracted by the talkative slithering length. the challenge is an attempt to write in other than my ordinary way. stretching backward through pervious poems a cacophony of voices in the 1st, 2nd and 3rd person hound me fast intent with purpose. i am soon apprehended and together we shriek and snort at the existential existence of letters mimicking sounds similar to mad rushing waters propelled downward in huge splashes racing to nowhere.

not a note of metaphor nor anything to do with abstract. i now have this entertaining expectation of a solid concrete touch. A LITTLE LATER. this cool creepy feeble feeling of attempt surfaces, bobbing about caught in the undertoe disappears and then reappears entangled in crazy currents. a distraction of sorts. notice the 2 am offbeat blinking of a rusty neon sign screaming no vacancy move on!

i’ve captured the erasable and wrote it down. it is nothing not predictable. like an early morning mist moving along the low hidden gullys soon to disappear

… i finally gave up and wrote outside the zone of usual lines that are never there anyway, but i will keep this lesson in mind while writing left handed in a right handed world.

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3WW, Poetry, short story

trespass

three word wednesday: modify, obedient, veil
photo: Bridal Veil Falls, skycaptaintwo, flickr

there wasn’t much of an exchange. if anyone listened they would only hear the rushing sound of constant continuous clicking. a symphony of snapping photos as her fickle fingers flashed and fluttered in persistent pantomime. and the person being photographed was obedient to everything the photographer requested. sitting high back straight, relax lean to the left, look at her, no, straight into the camera. in an effort to modify what was already there in front of her. the refuge of the veil is hard to pierce. reading every sign from a sigh to a blink was beyond the camera’s ability. having decisions made for one was unbearable.

the refuge of the veil
no longer exposed
one must be obedient
efforts to modify
are endangered
everyone take notice.

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