Written (after the fact) for the GloPoWriMo Day 10 prompt: write a poem that uses alliteration and punning. See if you can’t work in references to at least one word you have trouble spelling, and one that you’ve never quite been able to perfectly remember the meaning of.
I guess I didn’t really hit this prompt but this is the inspiration that arose from it. Somewhat a manifesto.
Inspired and paraphrased from the Red Hand Files (again!) #337 and for the GloProWriMo Day 20 prompt: write a poem informed by musical phrasing or melody that employs some form of soundplay (rhyme, meter, assonance, alliteration).Also, the poem ‘In Evening Air by Theodore Roethke was suggested as an example, and I used the rhyming form, which I found quite pleasant and I think worked very well.
Maybe not a helpful admission, I’m not sure where I stand these days; as the ground shifts exposing each other’s rifts, it hardens without permission and uncertainty sings its praise.
The world, beautiful but broken; my temperament wishes no further harm; no left or right or centre might have, to me, truly spoken and guided me towards a calm.
My reason searches for the true to ease the burden of each other’s sorrow; how easy it is to break, to forget to give and take; cautious and careful in what I do when nothing is certain tomorrow.
Not knowing what I’m talking about; does the world need to hear that voice? Listening to all divergent views makes me ever more confused so that when still filled with doubt silence is my choice.
So maybe I just stand with my art, valuing the deed over the word; to the fragile flickering spirit bring a striving for such praise to sing; At least, it’s a place to start so that the silence will still be heard.
MockART – Some nice noise here that is keeping my brain active whilst trying to download an upload for my computer so that I can practice guitar again, since something has messed up one of the apps I like to use. Not sure that I would listen to this at any other time though!
Wet Nurse – Fractured and somewhat scary energy here. It’s interesting for sure but a bit too disturbing for me these days. About 20 years ago I would’ve been all over this.
Meira Asher – Interesting punk hip hop that reminds me of some similar weird freaks I met from Japan in the 00s. I like the more rhythmic tracks over the atmospheric ones.
Half Empty Glasshouse – I have their albums already but had forgotten about them. Lots of time changes and genre warping. This is my kinda jam for sure.
My bedroom, dusty and rank with teenage anger, Putting the world to rights through a cracked speaker’s static; a chorus of voices chanting in my lonely imagination, the army I lead from a mattress on the floor.
A spinning refrain, played again and again “Here you stand, my judge and jury.”
A dead mouse, a decaying spider plant, the only witnesses to these carpet-muffled pleas. We stood together, a council of the defeated, alienated.
Jaded even before the fight; “In gods they trust to hide the sins which they commit themselves.”
Sullen and restless we’ll decompose our withered leaves, settle into the dirty corners anonymous not forgotten
“We’re legion.”
Written well after the fact for the GloProWriMo Day Sixteen prompt: try writing a poem that imposes a particular song on a place. Describe the interaction between the place and the music using references to a plant and, if possible, incorporate a quotation – bonus points for using a piece of everyday, overheard language.
As an angsty teenager, awkwardly looking at the constant depravity of the world, I latched on to anthems that united me with others, even if only in bedrooms across Britain. One such song that resonated with me was Theatre of Hate’s Legion, which I had bought (saving mum’s lunch money) on a 7″. My old dodgy record player had a method of allowing repeat plays of the record on the turntable, and so it was that one day I played this song 59 times in a row. I’m not sure why I never got to 60. My dirty, dusty bedroom housed myself, a tragic spider plant and a mouse that soon suffocated among all the incense smoke used to cover up the smell of cigarette smoke. It was a typically pathetic teenager’s bedroom. But I was convinced I was not alone and I was convinced that I was right.
Lies are the words that I use when you look up hopefully.
Why is it seriously funny that the truth will set you free?
All of the things that we feel are a trick, a fantasy.
In the deafening silence, we could just learn to be.
Lies are the light and the hope in your eyes as they shine on me.
Within this blinding darkness, it’s the truth I foresee.
Tie up my hands with your chains, they are bound to set me free.
It’s all so clearly misunderstood that the truth will set you free.
Written (after the fact) for the GloPoWriMo Day 11 prompt: write a poem that incorporates song lyrics – ideally, incorporating them as opposing phrases or refrains. Song lyrics are italicised, taken from All Lies by Nomeansno
The charmer has good game, a new room every night’ A silence can explain when the words don’t feel right;
Maybe old and spicy, a smile that seems sincere; Pearly blues so icy, direction sharp and clear;
The holder of the cup, a life that overflows; Forgets the runner-up, the one that no one knows;
This charismatic man was always bound to be; Winning since life began, is definitely not me.
Written for the GloPoWriMo Day 7 prompt: write a self-portrait poem, in which you explain why you are not a particular piece of art (a symphony, a figurine, a ballet, a sonnet), use at least one outlandish comparison, and a strange (and maybe not actually real) fact.
1I read this line in a book, I think, but didn’t take note when I saved it for use later. 2This line is from a Substack article, which, again, I forgot to take note of
This hybrid cento came together after collecting a bunch of phrases (mostly linked in the poem) and then applying them to the GloPoWriMo Day 5 prompt:write a poem inspired by musical notation and words from a provided list (found at the link). I went with the following: “gradually becoming a disaster” Death metal symphony nonsense, monument, concrete, departures
I was stuck for a title until I dug around a bit and found this from Mozart, the meaning of which is: “Galimathias“: A pseudo-Latin term derived from French galimatias (meaning nonsense or gibberish). “Musicum“: Latin for “musical.” Together: Roughly translates to “Musical Nonsense” or “A Musical Hodgepodge.“
This seemed entirely appropriate.
And though the resulting Suno AI song is very straightforward and nothing like a hodgepodge, I think that it’s quite enjoyable. Please give it a listen below.
I’m not a poet, but I write to put these thoughts down on paper, I’m no hero, but I will fight for influence in this caper;
I’m not a real artist either perhaps I’m swimming at the edge, With faith but not a believer, it’s only to myself I pledge;
Not really a teacher as such, a student only when I please; I say too little, say too much, an expert without expertise;
I’m no writer, only writing to fill up these empty pages; No influence nor exciting, no actor upon the stages;
I have no musical talents always screeching into the void; It’s an act I cannot balance, never upset but just annoyed;
Am I a poet? You decide; I don’t really care either way; All too easily classified I am or I’m not what you say.
Written for the GloPoWriMo Day 3 prompt: write a poem that obliquely explains why you are a poet and not some other kind of artist – or, if you think of yourself as more of a musician or painter (or school bus driver or scuba diver or expert on medieval Maltese banking) – explain why you are that and not something else! I’m not so oblique though!
Written for the GloPoWriMo Day 2 prompt: Write a poem that directly addresses someone, and that includes a made-up word, an odd/unusual simile, a statement of “fact,” and something that seems out of place in time. Inspired by a piece of writing by David Elikwu.
1994ever 