Monday, June 18, 2012

[Moon-dæg] A Poetic Turn for Mondays

The Change Up
Still the Same old Moon-dæg
The Poem's Intro
The General Lee Stanza Suite

{This General Lee can definitely make any and all jumps, with a little "digital" help. Image from Toy Wonders, Inc.}

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The Change Up

Because A Glass Darkly is my general blog, I’ve decided to make it a little more general.

Up until now, Monday’s and Wednesday’s entries have been more or less the same - just editorials or opinions about current news of one sort or another. Though the suite of recipes back in February was a bit different from all that (interestingly Bibimbap proved the most popular dish).

So, in an effort to make this blog a broader spectrum of writing styles and to work some non-editorial/review stuff into it, Monday’s entries will now feature what’s included under the umbrella term “Creative Writing.” Sometimes poetry will be posted here, sometimes fiction. Eventually, it may include novel excerpts, eventually.

The content of Monday's entries is also changing in the hopes that it will free up more time so that I can put that extra time towards other projects.

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Still the Same old Moon-dæg

As per how this fits in with the blog's original conceit: The moon is very closely related to many magical practices and occurrences.

Creative writing, in the way it weaves devices and plots and characters together into something that causes some sort of response, is similar to some of the moon's magical aspects (think of the full moon's effect on lycanthropes). And that's the connection.

However, there may still be series or sequences of work spread out over weeks, not just standalone pieces.

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The Poem's Intro

Now then, for the inaugural “creative writing” entry, I present a poem written at a local writing group.

This piece was written based on an exercise involving a handful of random figures that one member of a group or meeting brings in. At this particular meeting these figures included a tiny plastic Millenium Falcon, a Superman figurine, a Strawberry Shortcake figurine, a generic wooden man on a peg, a board for the peg man, a green figurine of some sort, and a tiny, metal General Lee. The idea behind the exercise is to write based on whatever comes to mind when looking at the brought items - in any configuration.

This poem involves the figurines and models, but not entirely directly. This indirect inspiration is reflected in the poem's title.

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The General Lee Stanza Suite

Part 1: Prophecies of Playtime

Too much too much
Crowded like a stable when all the inns are full
This train of random figures is simply too much
What will the man in the red cape save?
Through what will the mercernary and new hope fly?
Where will the woman in the fragrant hat plant
her virtues and straws?

A green man will the red cape save
Through gravel and brush will the two fly
And on a block of solid flat wood -
made fertile by a plethora of mite corpses will
the lady plant.

The green man - lowing like cattle
at the prospect of lowering over his arm
something sharper than a knife - will be saved
Those two will leave the gravel and brush behind
And that woman will make all square with
the round man’s help.

The cape will flash and sharpness will shatter on the ground
Those two will land with a leap and a pulse higher than a
snacking pastry chef’s - back out more gravel and brush
And that woman, the round man, will stand as if the ground had
grooves and
smile, their bright red reward to see.

Part 2: Further Impressions

A lot will be written about figures -
images cast in plastic -
laying on a flat brown table
While from some other space

Music of the island plays and
a voice both bright and bawled
will make an announcement to fill
Such words as that on which
books are made.

Any connection -
only as needed -
the Doctor and the Farmer
born and raised in
the pretty how town.

If you only knew of all
the plundering done
to swim upstream and
to reach that distant shore with more

Or with enough
So that in your
Wake diamonds and gems would shudder
and shake causing the river to

Undulate in
A bed muddi-
er than your hands at such an end.
No matter it all comes off a

'gainst a leaf still
caught in its tree
Plucked down and scraped across each palm:
You’ll need clean hands for the promised feasts.

(Composed on 20 December 2011)

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Check back here Wednesday for an article on the newest news, and on Friday for the hunt for the good in The Last Airbender.

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