![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Here's an offer to all you bored Residents of Internet out there.
I'm hijacking a meme from a much more accomplished writer![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cadhla, and offering it to you wholesale.
(oh, and btw go readcadhla, she's a local girl and a hell of a songsmith!)
Post a comment with three words and I will dust off my creative writing skills in an attempt to use your three words in some kind of creative writing project, whether poem or ficlet is yet to be determined, also let me know if you have a preferred format (type of poetry, drabble, ficlet, short story, preferred fandom?) and I will see what I can do.
I make no promises. I tell only the lies the Muse whispers sweetly in my ear.
I'm hijacking a meme from a much more accomplished writer
cadhla, and offering it to you wholesale.(oh, and btw go read
cadhla, she's a local girl and a hell of a songsmith!)Post a comment with three words and I will dust off my creative writing skills in an attempt to use your three words in some kind of creative writing project, whether poem or ficlet is yet to be determined, also let me know if you have a preferred format (type of poetry, drabble, ficlet, short story, preferred fandom?) and I will see what I can do.
I make no promises. I tell only the lies the Muse whispers sweetly in my ear.
Tags:
no subject
I'd like a poem, please.
And furthermore, I'd like to apologize for the grim subject matter. It jumped into my head unbidden. Feel free to pass this over for something more pleasant.
no subject
any format you like.
good luck :)
no subject
Impulsive
Breathe
Inspired by, though not including, your suggested words.
Her hand shook as she turned the page
And calculated the age
Her babe would be had he lived…
They said it was a necessary war
She never knew what it was for
She gave away the baby’s crib…
Explosions and gunfire broke the night
Her sister and mother wept from fright
As soldiers knocked on the door
Once again, years later, the fear,
Has it come again to us, here?
Wrinkled hands helped her lie on the floor.
Re: Inspired by, though not including, your suggested words.
no subject
A mating pair of cheetahs, another of gazelles. Both pairs were ambling onto his boat, as though they weren't naturally prey and predator...
He figured this, if nothing else, was proof of divine intervention...
Contrary to popular belief, the last animals onto the Ark weren't the Unicorns. (well, since the Unicorns didn't MAKE it onto the Ark, seems that was a moot point, a point fit for folk singers to examine...)
No, the last animals onto the Ark were the Giraffe. Too damn mellow for their own good, he grumbled. And skittish as cats, then, having those long legs to wander off with... he'd have to build a special porthole for them to extend their long necks through...
The skies darkened. Ominous thunder rumbled... the Giraffe was still recalcitrant. He and his mate, anyway, WERE still recalcitrant, wandering just outside of the Ark's apparently magnetic sphere of influence.
Noah knew they were herbivores, and made a frantic run through of the stored-foods inventory... Apples? Dried apples with honey?
How ironic if it were to work... one apple to damn, another to save...
He took a bag of the tasty treats out on deck. At this height, he'd be eye to eye with the beasts. He waved a dried apple round in the freshening breeze, upwind of the piebald long-neck beasties....
Noah saw a head turn. Then two heads turned. Two long legged, long necked, limpid-eyed beasties turned and ambled toward the enormous boat... He waited just long enough to assure himself of their interest, then scrambled down the ladders to the gangplank, where he met the gentle giraffes just as the rain started falling.
They followed him aboard with the promise of honeyed apples, and Noah heaved a sigh of relief, ticked the last box on his checklist, and signaled his son Ham to raise the door.
They would be prepared for the coming flood.
Re: Inspired by, though not including, your suggested words.
thank you for your kind words.
no subject
She knew she needed to breathe in order to hold the asana properly, but she was more accustomed to her yoga videocassettes. This new teacher was... NEW.
And... DIFFERENT.
Truculently, she held her breath, though she knew it didn't help her at all to run through her yoga routines conserving air... it was downright... counterproductive!
it was just that... he was so... enthusiastic.
ugh.
Too young, too sure of himself, too puppyish. Why was she finding it awkward to tell him to back the hell off? She'd told dozens of instructors where to get off, and she'd been correct in assessing their subject-matter knowledge... or LACK thereof...
heh.
Stuck in Triangle pose, she smiled. Her puppyish instructor, misinterpreting her expression, chose to bring out his inner cheerleader: "THERE you go! can you feel the stretch in your obliques?!?!"
Her eyes rolled, almost without her active volition. On impulse, she replied in full valley-girl accent, "Oh my god, YES! it's so aMAzing! it feels so GOOOOooodddd..... mmmmmMMMMmmm!"
and the perky young instructor faltered one step backward... before recovering. "All-all right now, miss Becket, let's see your Warrior pose next!"
Miss Becket sighed and swept perfectly trimmed (though sweaty) white hair from her forehead as she settled into her Warrior I.
Puppies.
There was only so much one could do, short of actually BREAKING them, to discourage puppies. She decided to suffer the remainder of the 90 minute workout with her new personal trainer in relative silence.
no subject
As you will.
no subject
become
fire
(and ps.... if you are not on my house swarming filter... tell me, i'll fix that.)
no subject
*ahem*
Buahahaha...
Three words:
Incarnadine, waltz, and solace
*smack!*
You have been struck by the muse. Go forth and create.
no subject
no subject
calico
corollary
Star Trek, please, and not poetry.
no subject
Any form.
(See how I don't pick words intended to stump? That's 'cause I've had it done to me too many times, and I think it is cruel, in addition to holding up the round.)
no subject
Dreams
Fear
no subject
just going to take a bit longer.
no subject
okay, I'll try again...
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Young Lizard, Incandescent
in fluffy high heels"
no subject
spring is a long way away, the 4-H shows a distant memory and distant anticipation simultaneously. We bed down the last vegetable crops and double-dig the soil, cover the rosebushes near the house as the first frosts settle in, and use the hydraulic combines to pull in the last of the wheat and barley from the fields.
Poised on the edge of equinox, the land takes a deep breath and holds it... soon, soon will be the long rest, the sleep of greening, and the quilting, repair, and storytelling shift for the people. Fire keeps the dark at bay; and the dog, curled warm on Grandma's braided hearth rug, sighs and settles deeper into his nap.
we spiral into the dark, unafraid of the cycle of life, birth, choice, death. It's all part of the pattern.
no subject