Titans

This is another Cubby prompt. The prompt, the first two lines, led me to a mythical storyline. I followed.

Titans

You laughed the stars
Into the sky
You craft the scars
I hide inside

You hung the moon
To hide the dark
You are the womb
From which life sparked

I made the seas
I am earthquakes
My tears never cease
From endless heartbreaks

Your heart is oxygen
Your smile is sunshine
I need your glow again
But you won’t be mine

Chivalry Resurrected: Homophone Inaction

Here’s my attempt at immersing myself in the true spirit of Cubby’s Homophone challenge/prompt. I didn’t get nearly as whimsical as I hoped. I had the title first, in reference to Chivalry Is Dead: A Homophonous Adventure. I got pulled into the theme and shirked the whimsy. I squeezed in a couple jokes. I did manage a lot more homophones this thyme. I used some names. I’m not sure if that’s allowed, but if I get kicked out of the Homophone Club For Homo Sapians, that’s probably why. I tried not to be too repetitive. I altered the prompt to get a couple more. I got 30, if I counted correctly.

Chivalry Resurrected: Homophone Inaction

Gone our the daze of princesses
And nights in shining armor
End thee wicked which who suppresses
With evil plans too harm her

Butt Hu needs that stuff
We can still send flours
Letter Noe she’s loved
Naught restrain her feminine powers

Wee can B knights in white satin
Remind her she’s the only won
With sweet words in Pig Latin
She can bee replaced bye nun

Eye no aye knead ewe
Fore ever, until time’s end
Four U, their is nothing I won’t due
Can I get an eh, men?

Is it sexist to send a woman flour? Does that seem like I’m implying I want her to cook? I will confess, I’m not much of a cook. Culinary prowess would be a large positive in a potential mate.

Until recently, every time I heard that song I would picture knights in white satin. I thought white satin sounded like horrible armor. It’s called “Nights in White Satin.” I guess I didn’t read the title. I heard it as a kid and knights seemed way cooler than satin sheets. I wanted to include that in my homophone poem as an homage to my younger, more naïve self.

“Eye no aye knead ewe” is not meant to be massage-ynistic. That’s a pun, not a homophone.

Chivalry Is Dead: A Homophonous Adventure

Cubby, my most challenging friend, has issued another challenge/prompt. This is my first hybrid. This one was to write a poem using homophones, words that sound the same, but have different meaning like red and read or read and reed. The results are supposed to be silly and nonsensical. I decided to add an extra challenge and make it make sense. Of course, since sense is in the mind of the reader, that’s more up to you than me. What I mean is I tried to use a homophone for the word one would normally use giving the sentence a different meaning, but still retain meaning. For example, “I’m going to save the princes,” instead of “I’m going to save the princess.” The sound isn’t exactly the same, but it’s close enough. I want to do another that is totally nonsensical because I love nonsensical whimsy. This is still whimsical and silly, but, I think, there’s a logical flow to it.

The first two lines are the prompt. I only managed 7 homophones. The nonsensical one will much easier.

Update: After a few days of distraction, I finally posted my nonsensical attempt. Chivalry Resurrected: Homophone Inaction

Chivalry Is Dead

Gone are the days of princesses
And nights in shining armor
Saving ladies in this dress is
Not a good idea for a former charmer

But, please, you’ll have to bare with me
If I’m going to save the princes
First, I need clothing that is comfy
In order to travel great distances

I have my shears to shear U
Back there and bare your… but…
Wait… You will be cold if I do
Just a sheer shape of a U on your… what?

No, I don’t usually talk to sheep
I want to create a comfortable atmosphere
Though, I do count ewe when I go to sleep
Now that I have clothes, to where?

She

This is another Cubby prompt. This was a hard one. I stared at the prompt and had nothing for days. I tried to write about heroes from a lot of different angles. I tried the standard Joseph Campbell ideal of a hero. I tried to go the direction of The L Squad. I tried to make it about blood donation since they gave me a card that says I’m a hero. I even tried to write it about squirrels. I thought of the last quatrain and built it from there. Then, it was easy. All the most important people in my life are women. I admire their strength and courage and the way they still find time for tenderness, not to be confused with Tinderness, sweetness, kindness, and love. Cubs still had to help me find a decent rhyme for laurels.

She

A hero is born not from the laurels
Of glory but
from the worth of her feats
One who won’t sacrifice her morals
She stands up tall and never retreats

It’s the strength she shows when times are rough
She can still bear the weight of the world
The way her smile glows when she’s being tough
She is a woman, no longer a girl

In a world where she is often oppressed
She takes it and never loses her stride
She won’t allow herself to be suppressed
She carries herself with dignity and pride

It’s the subtly of her touch
As she puts her arms around me
A comfort I need so very much
And takes away my pain heroically

Poetry Prompt: Rebirth

I am very late on this. My mom has always teased me about being “fashionably late.” There’s a difference between showing up fashionably late and being too late to even help clean up. This would be that latter. I’m posting it anyway.

This is oddly optimistic for me. I’m much more optimistic than my writing. The prompt is assuming I have the power. My pessimism comes from my lack of power and faith in people to do the right thing. I’m also an over-explainer, which I can’t explain.

Thanks to Cubby for the prompt. Hers, Perfecting Creation, is way better than mine, by the way. She may argue, but she will be wrong. That is a little preemptive arguing.

Rebirth

If I had the power of creation,
Strength borrowed from a mother
I’d see the rebirth of a nation
One where we cared for one another

No murder. No retaliation.
School kids wouldn’t shoot each other
Substance over sensation
We wouldn’t trample on our brother

We’d unify without complication
There’d be no grouping based on color
No gender discrimination
We’d uplift instead of smother

With peace and love as inspiration
We can grow under their cover
As we reach for global unification
If each eschews hatred to be a lover

Poetry Prompt: Broken Wings (L Squad Style)

The first thing that comes to my mind when I read these poetry prompts is not in any way related to The L Squad or Norman Normalson & The Normals or farts or cheese or robots or aliens. I like to try to redo them so they fit in with that style. The promotion of The L Squad, Norman Normalson & The Normals and whatever else comes up in that vein is the purpose of this blog.

This is from the point of view of Chuckinstuf, which seems natural since he has wings. It also seems unnatural since he’s not introduced until The L Squad: Phase Two. I haven’t been able to get The L Squad published, yet. This would take place around the middle of The L Squad. It’s a point of view not explored in the book, which makes it interesting. Of course, it’s not a point of view explored in the book since Chuckinstuf isn’t introduced until the second book. I mean in general. It’s also somewhat of a teaser.

The prompt is, again, courtesy of Cubby. She’s the only person I follow who does prompts and challenges. Though, I have been informed her cat could actually be the one in charge.

Chained

Tread lightly on my broken wings,
Now pitiful but once were proud

These once powerful things
Are now withered and cowed

I must find the strength to fly again
Stretch my wings, ignore the pain

Then emancipate my friends
Free us all from our chains

I need to fly. I need to soar.
We have to break through that door

We need to fight, even the score
Defeat the tyrant we all abhor

The planet we’re sworn to protect
Is now the planet we have to save

Our escape he couldn’t neglect
With us, he found a new world to enslave

 

Apparently, I can’t find anything better to rhyme with “wings” than “things” that fits into the context.

Poetry Prompt: Broken Wings

Cubby, the poetry guru, has offered up another prompt. All I keep thinking about is that old song. I don’t know who sings it or what it’s called. I could look it up, but eh. If you know, you can post it in the comments. They sampled it to make a horrible remix of a 2Pac song. I can’t even think of which song that is, it’s so different from the original. Tell me in the comments. Let’s make this interactive. Wee! I just have that line, “Take these broken wings and help me fly again,” flopping around in my head. You know because it has broken wings it can’t really fly. It more flops.

I cannot come up with a better title than ‘Broken Wings.’ Maybe ‘Flop’ or ‘Floppy.’ I considered ‘Icarus,’ but that seems too contrived and pretentious. It ended differently back then, too. This ending is much better. I considered calling it ‘Larry’ but thought people might think it’s about a guy named Larry, which it’s not. I also considered ‘Cheese.’ I don’t think it lives up to the promise of a poem about broken wings titled ‘Cheese.’ It’s not quirky enough. I don’t know. “Have you read my poem called ‘Icarus?’ It’s about a man with broken wings, but the wings are a metaphor for cheese. It’s cheese, but it’s like food, food for the soul, but cheese.” So, dang it, ‘Broken Wings’ it is. It’s not a masterpiece. It’s not even an apprenticepiece. It does make me want cheese, but for like my soul.

I have an idea for an L Squad-themed version. It’s much more literal, but still not about cheese. Update: Here it is.

Broken Wings

Tread lightly on my broken wings,
Now pitiful but once were proud

Once they were graceful things
Instead of this tattered shroud

With them I used to soar
Now, I can’t get off the ground

My wings are battered and sore
I’m completely beaten down

I got too high and took my dings
I lost you in a cloud

Now, my soul no longer sings
Soaring is no more allowed

Once, it seemed I had everything
It can’t be like it was then

So take these broken wings
And don’t let me fly again

Poetry RePrompt: Murmurs

Here’s my fun and whimsical reply to Cubby’s most recent poetry prompt. The original depressing one is here.

I’m probably not supposed to do two for each prompt or challenge, but I enjoy the challenge, and I like to look at things from different sides.

Uprising

The ocean murmurs to the beach
And all the grains of sand

The sea issued a brief speech
“King Octopus has sent the command

I’m spreading as far as I can reach
Creatures of the sea are taking the land

Sea lions have done reconnaissance
Crabs have done a thorough canvas

We have complete reports from dolphins
I’m spreading wherever land is

It was all water once, that’s all we’ve wanted since
The whole world’s about to be Atlantis”

Epilogue:

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes, quite.”

“Just give me my regular bath and be done with you.”

“One day. One day you will be mine,” murmurs the ocean, as it ebbs.

~~~~

Yes, the octopus is king of the sea. In a land of no hands, he with eight shall be king. She with eight shall be queen. I’m not sexist.

~~~~

Alternate Titles:
Can You Sea Me Now? (Cut for the bad pun.)

Land Ho! (It’s the ocean, not a pirate.)

A Tsunami Of Murmurs (Too dramatic.)

Something’s Fishy (That one’s just bad.)

Poetry Prompt: Murmurs

Cubby offered up another poetry prompt yesterday. Murmur was the prompt that they gave me. I’m never very prompt with these prompts because I usually check my email in the morning. Check out hers. It’s fun and whimsical. I’m doing another one, which is much more fun and whimsical. I don’t want to be the depressing poetry blog guy. What am I? Edgar Allan Poe? In some ways, yes.

Waves

The ocean murmurs to the beach
And all the grains of sand

I crumble as the waves reach
Where you scribed your love by hand

Two sets of footprints have become one
The other’s were consumed by waves

I walk alone by the fading sun
I cherish the diminishing rays

You slipped through my hand
Now, you’re out of my reach

My feet sink into the wet sand
As I murmur to the ocean from the beach

Update: I finished the fun whimsical one. Here it is. Yes, this. This whole ridiculously long link will take you there. What? I wasn’t sure which part to make the link, so I made it all the link.

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