radical departures

agree dogstar's new set is great ... think it could be a challenge too ... i know i sometimes get fed up of always writing the same type of stuff ... another gauntlet andrew? ... we could dare each other specifically ...

Go on then, you first.

ok andrew ... you write a love poem ...

oooooooh

Andrew You can do it son. Ralph

*feels Humble *hopes Humble doesn't mind... *feels andrew instead sorry, guv, just looking for cherries...

fey you can write something from a male point of view ...

I don't know what it IS, he won't TELL me

imagine?

liana can do something about war ... possibly prose ...

*eek*

That's a tough one. I try to make every new poem I write a radical departure from my other stuff. I guess I could try writing a short story for a change...

Right - not as hard as what you've asked from me Ivory, but I want a story from you that is fantastical, rather than grounded in realism. Bloody love poem. I ask you. Still wanting some examples of pieces where people have departed though.

eddie's doves? *goes off to make voodoo doll of andrew ... grumbling "fantastical .... ha!" ...*

Ivory - I have done mine. It is in the last ten entered as "Brandy and Charlton Heston". (Or my new set Beautiful Little Fools) Huge departure for me - a) Poem b) Love c) Based on truth rather than fevered imagination. My other pieces that I felt were departure were Icebergs and Whalebone, which are now the things I'm most fond of. (I landed myself in it with Eddie's doves, raving on to him about how his new direction showed progression as a writer, only for him to tell me he'd written it years ago, thus deftly turning praise to insult. ) Still waiting for Liana's war story, and really looking forward to Fey's piece.

loved it andrew ... it is a moving piece *sniffle* ... i think it threads in an out of being a poem ... or poetic ... i'll get some distance and then think about it critically ... i have now finished writing grumbling emails containing the word fantastical ... and almost reckon i might start ... i'd also like to challenge Justyn to write something about his life NOW ... Five Minutes in the Life of Justyn Thyme ...

Andrew, I certainly wasn't insulted by your comment on 'Doves'. All praise is welcomed, retrospective or not. And since a great deal of the writing I've posted to ABC is over ten years old, your observation about progression is not entirely unfounded. Maybe I should give the date of writing in further submissions. This is another good thread from you. I wrote 'Desired Errata' as a direct response to your 'Poetry Challenge'. I don't think I ever thanked you for it. So, ta, la!

Oooh, shall I wow you all with a deadly serious poem about paranoia?

no andrea ... am still pondering your challenge ...

Er...what challenge?

i think fish and liana should each be challenged to write a poem that rhymes

Nah, too easy - even I can do that, as I so exquisitely demonstrated on the Phyllis Littlefeather Birdy thread. I can do another one, though, if you've forgotton how they went... *sets stop-watch for 2 mins and grabs pen*

Andrea, just remember, you know you are in trouble when you start to believe that the paranoids are out to get you. (old joke heard on chat show) The logic doesn't hold together so well, but I thought it was funny. Fish, my life now? hmmmm. that's not going to be very interesting. 5 minutes should just about cover it, though. I'll see what I can come up with.

*doesnt know which is worse, rhyming poem or war prose* *sinks into depression*

Liana, You ever READ any of my 'poetry'? I can assure you it's FAR worse than either RP or WP *licks nib gleefully* (and yes, that WAS 'nib')

This is another good point - this is the second time Fish has questioned whether a piece is poetry. (I endorse utterly her right to decide whether it is GOOD poetry) But if a urinal or an unmade bed, or a rubbish bin, or a blinking light can be ART, then surely a piece of writing set out in a way that doesn't involve constructed sentences but still moves from beginning to an end is Poetry ? Ask a thousand people to sum up poetry and what will 950 say ? "Something that rhymes". So most poetry is already miles away from what most would define it as. For me, any piece of creative writing that isn't prose is poetry. It may not be good poetry, it may be bloody awful, but if it isn't poetry, what is it ?

Been trying to come up with a challenge for Eddie. I don't think there's anything he couldn't have a crack at. This is the best I could come up with :- a short story in the Russian mode.

Ok, I did it. Go to the most recent 10 and you will find Yardbirds, Listening to The I'd already used all my "I" options, so it went under "Y." I used the titles of the Yardbirds best to create a little story. Just the titles, mind. There is some missing grammar, but since I called it poetry, that's ok (refers to above discussion). You might ask, what does this have to do with my life today? Lots. I listen to the Yardbird A LOT, including while writing. And most of my life revolves around playing with words. So, that's it. Actually, it came out rather well. You should have a chuckle.

Game on, Andrew, though I might need a few Margarita's to help me Master the genre.

Hello everyone, Phyllis here, have decide to rise to the challenge and write about `BIG` birds as opposed to those lovely small, tiny ones of small stature. "Big bird in the garden" Big bird in the garden , your so ..... No it's no good it just doesn't `feel` right. God, I'm so sorry. "Small bird in a puddle" Oh Small. small, tiny little bird, in a puddle. So small of staure, tiny feathers wet with rainwater. How small you look, standing up to your birdy waist.

'Staure', Phyllis? You're slipping, dear... Tiny birdy eating grain Gettin' nice and fat. Fluffy feathers, what a pain! Choked the hungry cat!

...and now I will reveal myself, in all my peacock glory... *fiddles with PC*

Oh dear I'm sorry my error has made you frustrated, you should try out the company of small birds, they always ease my frustration, they're small you see. "Small birds and frustration" I was frustrated, then I saw a small bird. So tiny, small and little, suddenly, I was no longer frustrated, just happy, with the small, tiny birdy.

OH @!#$ OFF PHYLLIS!

Oh dear, I think I'm developing a headache, goodbye everyone.

Must be all that migrating...

Forgot to say, Phyllis dear, forget that nasty ''Phyllis Hater' person - it's obviously only interested in birds of the more predatory kind...

yeah man, phyllis your cool. We love your poems about small birds. ~oo~

...and mine too, I sincerely hope! Took me bloody hours and much sweat to compose that...

challenge report: still struggling with fantastical thing ... *grumble whinge moan*

me too...have opening line for war story- “Jsi stasne dite” Am rather stuck for the rest. Going away for a couple of days though, a long drive ahead, so will give it a think...

"You've been sent here because your the scum of the earth" Seargant Blunthead's voice boomed across the parade ground. "Oh ark at him, think he's a real man, " Private first class, `Babs` Thompson, blew a kiss at Blunthead's back, he turned and glared at the pouting private. "I'll have your @!#$ for that!" Thompson blushed, he was in seventh heaven....

gosh.. how can i follow that.....

"I can't stand it ....." he sobbed "there, there, big boy..... you tell Babs all about it..." she wrapped his head within her warm bosom, stroked his fevered lowbrow, felt for his wallet and wondered how big a wad this 5 star general had. "no one loves me anymore..... I used to be a god...." Blunthead's muffled tones could just be heard, snuffling away like a prick between two budding roses "but now I am undone" "yes baby" she slipped her hand between his buttons looking for the hidden wad within "But you still turn my cherry on" Babs stifled a yawn under her professional facade. "Come on Blunty .... show babsy what you've got" Blunthead used to have a woman of his own, but she had long gone, silvered words not believed any more. And now he was just another John on the wane. Paying through the no's. "Ahh, there it is!" Babs had found his wad. She deftly counted the notes with practised fingers. "Well you can sod off if that is all you've got!" Blunthead pulled on his emperors clothes and left quietly. Good job I had a hard on he thought.

Ohh! Get Her!!

Wasn't this happening on the parade ground?!!!