Is it possible for something that’s spherical to have a physical end or beginning? A ball just keeps going on and on and on and on. No matter how many times you turn it, you never get to any definitive beginning or end. Where does an egg start and where does it end? With the chicken or the egg or the chicken or the egg or the chicken?
I created this poem to perform as spoken word for my first Pay Day collaboration turning my Gravy Baby poem to song Introducing Ray the Musical Poet. It was to be my intro but I’m not nearly ready to attempt spoken word yet, it’s quite the challenge. If you don't know much about spoken word I encourage you take a look.
I've had this idea for the last few days. I'm throwing out to you, my followers. I want to start a new blog dedicated to self-publishing.
Those of us who blog and write and publish, I believe, owe it to each other to support each other's efforts. We can do this with "likes" and "follows" and reviews and the like, but there's more there.
People people people! Guess what today is? MONDAY! And since it’s Monday, we’ve another spectacular feature lined up for you, and this young lady is a very, very interesting human being.
Mya C. Brooks is a twenty-three year old green horn with absolutely no credentials to speak of, that just so happens to live in New London Connecticut, a small town that constantly smells of salt water and engine fuel.
They called me the evils of man,
and I luxuriated in the title,
in fact, my passion was such,
I set fire to each letter in the Bible.
The Lost Muse
I sit down and pick up the pen
To serenade my lost muse again,
There are vague images I seek
And while consistencies are bleak,
I still enjoy searching the cause
The words in which the moments pause
And in that sudden clarity,
I look for my epiphany...
My muse is gone, been called away
And while the world will keep at bay…
I have forgotten the feel of pen in hand
The feel of my palm anchoring the page
The flow of ink in a single stream of thought
The echoing of scratch and scribble withstand
As memories in this the computer age
I use to strike down errors with one fell stroke
The blemish reminding me to be thoughtful
Now all I have to do is hit the back space…
What’s up people!
Got some good news for you! I’m not ranting!
Oh…well… Nevermind, then. Apparently that’s bad news.
Listen up people. I’ve been asked this question a few times already, and it just now occurred to me that I should post about it. What’s the question?
Sahm, DUUUUUUDE! You have a dope page, man. But check this out: how on earth do you set up your links without creating pages that you have to go into to update over and over again?
Come close and I will tell you. Continue reading
I've been doing a bunch of thinking lately. I mean, most of it has been about, like, cat videos and comic books, but over the past week a significant part of my brain has been occupied by the following question:
What place do men have in the feminist movement?
First of all, let me straight up say that I think that they for sure have a place, and an important one at that.
Last month, I was asked by Julie Green Art to make a list of what keeps me going. The request came right before I left for my convention, I promised to do it the next week, and forgot. For taking so long, I deeply apologize and will make sure to keep some sort of system that avoids this mistake in the future.
Driving around town today with the youngest of Princely Midgets, I saw an Adopt-A-Highway sign. It was sponsored by the First Atheist Church of True Science aka FACTS. Hmmm. An Atheist Church. This requires further inquiry.
First, I needed to research the definition of church. "A building for public especially Christian worship." That's the primary definition. The secondary definitions equally apply to worship, clergy, and the like.
We stared Death in his eyes.
The Gods could only watch. And tremble. As the world collapsed beneath the feet of men, and whole armies were swallowed, Death regarded us, and we knew that time was at an end. Galthaesia had forsaken us; the Neherim vacated Eras, not of their own accord; the Third Order of Angels had fallen; the Tritans walked away from the earth; and we could only watch, and tremble, as time slowed to a standstill.
So, here I am, having written what I thought was a brilliant prologue, and I've just decided it's garbage. I've noticed something. When I started out the prologue, I think my writing was outstanding, awesome even.
Happy Saturday Poets!
If you’ve been following along with We Drink Because We’re Poets the last week, you know that we’ve been somewhat busy! And what have we been up to, lately? Come close, and I will tell you!
Monday Poetry Prompt #3 – Nonsense Verse. Just a note: you can go back to the prompts any time, and you're free to use them!
Earlier today, I wrote about my reacquaintance with one of the best addictions there are -- seeing your book sell on Amazon. As I noted, today was the day that Ereadernewstoday.com would be featuring my book as one of the bargain books. When I got up this morning, three copies of One Night in Bridgeport had been downloaded. An hour later, it was at eighteen.
Well last weeks Friday Fun Time was a blast, so I figured we could do it again. And we have fun by writing happy fun poems! So lets kick it people!
Here comes my monkey love
Was shrieked from the beast
Bieboon was its name
A tabloid legend is born
A crime against humanity, against nature
An abomination of lust and one glove…
First off, this is not me losing faith in my own writing. I want to get that out there right away before I give people the wrong impression. Contrary to what some reviews have said, I have faith and confidence in my writing style.
This is something I thought of now since I got a 3-star recently and it mentioned the style was difficult.
Today I am reviewing The Marfa Lights and Other Stories, a short story collection by our friend Mark Paxson(King Midget Ramblings). Link for Mark's blog is here, and to purchase this short story collection here. It is his first short story collection coming out in February of 2012. It is under the "Literature & Fiction, and Short Stories" categories and as of this posting(5-17-13) it is selling for $.99.
Hey, look, I published a book! Ten Hours Only, it's 10,000 words long, and $10 to buy. It's my first book, so I'm both excited, and worried about how well I did, but mostly surprised at how easy the whole process has been. I began writing it in April for Camp Nanowrimo (the first draft took me six days). And now it's fully edited, formatted, with suitable cover art, and on Amazon.
We had a fantastic time with last weeks prompt for Limericks. We really enjoyed seeing all of the great entries and sassy Limericks. Fun was had by all, so let's do it again!
Since you all enjoyed the shorter form last week, and in honor of NASA's request for Haiku's to send to Mars, I say we do Haiku's today. What kind of Haiku's?
That silly little monster
stuck up there on a post
is puking up some letters
from Nana on the coast.
I look for icky spittle gunk
or maybe a snaggled tooth,
nothing can I find besides
a stamp and Nana's note.
I don't know how my little monster,
sitting on the curb
can vomit so much plain old paper
and never seem disturbed.
Excellent responses in the first two prompts! Thank you all for that! Seriously! We are really loving the stories. Here we go my friends, again we have a 1,000 word minimum and no maximum. Though 100,000 words does not a short story make. Let's go get it!
What is today's prompt? Here we go.
Your character is caught shoplifting. The shop owner says that she won't call the police in exchange for a personal favor...
Shout out to all the butlers, maids, plumbers, electricians, and now teachers - the service Americans. There is dignity in every job! Embrace making a difference in someone's life.
This has to be my favourite poem of all time, various lines pop into my head at different moments lately it has to be " the unforgiving minute".
My best memory connected to it? When I first introduced my daughters to it one of them (Grace) said:
" Wow! he's talented mum, he writes poems and bakes cakes too! "
Here we are people. The final post describing the entire contest in full. You have all been waiting ever so patiently for this.... ;) But first, let's review! A little foreplay is good people! he he he Here we go.
Submissions for the greatest poetry challenge ever, will be sent to [email protected]
All forms are permitted, though we caution you to think twice before sending a Haiku/Senryu into the Thunder Dome.
Hello, hello, hello my people! :D We had a tremendous turnout for our last prompt. We may have to do Limericks more often! Here was your prompt.
There once was a man from Nantucket.
Since we had so many responses, enough of my blather and lets get to it!
There once was a man from Nantucket
Who drank his brown ale from a bucket…
Probably the most asked question I have is about the Papizilla name. Why. How? Who came up with it? Alright, I'll tell you who, and how. Are you ready? There is no going back once you know. This knowledge has crushed lesser mortals.... he he he. Oh fine, here we go.
My friends, I have had the pleasure of introducing you to several poets and artists, and I have told you my thoughts concerning each of them. Today, I am happy to introduce to you another brilliant poet, one whose word is raw, and much of it for the force with which her word is delivered.
Her name is Contessa Hernandez…