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    Retroflexed Triflections: A Summer Of Poetry Blog Challenges In Three Parts

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      white american extremists

      hiding in our midst

      must be monitored, observed –

      his circling, lazy droning flight

      just waiting for the order,

      for just the right moment to strike

      these terrorists so much like himself.

      (Use the Third definition of the word Flight in a poem - responses must be between 33 and 333 words)

      Normal

      Normal,

      the nurse’s verdict,

      velcro ripping like a gunshot

      in the newly quiet space.

      Normal,

      her obligatory checklist -

      stabbing pains and excessive bleeding

      to be reported

      immediately.

      Normal,

      the hour long wait with numerous

      normal magazines

      and your normal friend accompanying you -

      the helpless look in your ride’s eyes

      telling you

      that everything will be back

      to normal soon -

      work in the morning

      and no worries -

      it was the right decision,

      just the wrong time.

      So normal

      they keep telling you,

      at night

      your hand resting on your belly

      an aching little need still

      fluttering quickly

      under your fingers

      like a heart beat

      inside of

      you.

      (Use the Third definition of the word Normal in a poem - responses must be between 33 and 333 words)

      She realized early on

      that the weight

      of the old white bearded sky god

      lifted

      exponentially

      as the size of her breasts

      swelled

      so that

      when cornered by cancer

      in mid age

      she was not afraid

      to experiment

      with non-being

      in spite of the kind

      warnings

      from friends

      and slowly,

      she learned to accept

      the beings here

      and the thought of beings

      not here

      in the soon

      hereafter

      to come

      so that

      when the fatal announcement

      came down

      that the world was scheduled for demolition

      in three days time,

      she vacuumed just as she had

      always planned

      comforted that the dull pang

      in her belly

      was a clear sign

      that the world had always been

      three days away

      from total destruction -

      the only difference

      now being

      she felt each thrum and boom

      of the cuckoo and grandfather

      clocks

      once only heard

      during the unexpected

      visits

      of curious

      strangers.

      Give us 33-333 words with this as your inspiration:

      The world will end in three days.

      The Score

      The score etched

      in cuneiform plates

      was a solid representation

      between them

      of how much, how many

      and how far.

      The itinerant passerby

      who stopped to watch

      their interaction

      wrote down his impressions

      of who, what and where

      and passed it on to his friends,

      themselves

      itinerant second hand visitors.

      Another looked on

      long after the others had left,

      broken red plates

      jutting from the ground like teeth,

      and feeling

      as if he was missing something

      important

      sketched page after page

      to a vague someone, somewhere

      asking

      over and over again

      why, why, why.

      (Use the Third definition of the word Score in a poem - responses must be between 33 and 333 words)

      this soap bubble, glass ball

      earth

      photoshopped

      in the palm of my imagination

      held too

      tightly

      and we lose the gravity

      of our reality

      held too

      loosely

      and we float in the darkness

      one errant curse

      as we fall

      shattered

      into a million, million

      unreachable

      stars

      Write a 33-333 word response to the song featured below-

      The Smashing Pumpkins - 33

      With This Vorpal Blade

      they snicker-snack cackled round Macbeth’s old cauldron –

      a father, a son and a holy ghoul -

      or was it ad exec, disc jockey and

      preacher man -

      and I longed for them to tell you the 3 little words,

      those 3 magic words –

      I love you. I love you, I love you –

      but I didn’t want to seem the fool,

      a 3 in 1 tool for you to use

      as you seamed, sawed or hammered

      fit

      this foil

      rapt package wrapt in a plastic

      wrapped in a cardboard tube

      full of frabjous

      excuses –

      and

      in just such a place

      as this

      what I tell you three times is true. –

      one with my pen,

      two with my ruby slippered lips,

      and three with a charm,

      ready or not,

      you only marry, fall in love,

      and find your soul mate

      once,

      as they say,

      and

      I do,

      do you,

      for real,

      could it ever

      be true?

      Write a 33-333 word response to the following quote: “What I tell you three times is true.” by Lewis Carroll.

      without you

      this tribe of strangers,

      family and friends

      with no concept

      of my blue

      lie

      and say yes

      we see what you're

      going through,

      the tips of their trees

      blending seamlessly

      with clear, open skies -

      but this blue

      of mine,

      of us - once so many

      shifting moods,

      once a ring,

      a bearing shared

      together

      but you,

      you stepped through

      first

      and how do I cross

      this infinite space

      between us.

      (Use the Third definition of the word Blue in a poem - responses must be between 33 and 333 words)

      The narrow back alley

      of their relationship

      with no one way signs or

      dividing lines

      is all foot traffic, hustle and

      busyness delivering the goods,

      taking out the trash and emptying

      grease traps while

      gray spotted aprons

      lounge

      murmuring

      on smoke break -

      they hurry past the

      competing

      and steeping stale

      dumpster water

      and fresh baked bread

      smells

      greeting each other

      with salaried smiles

      ready to open up

      for the day


      thinking

      this store front,

      this back alley reality

      that we have created-

      which is facade

      and which is truth-

      both

      they wonder,

      neither

      they hope

      and each day

      decide

      (Use the Third definition of the word Alley in a poem - responses must be between 33 and 333 words)

      Two

      motherless

      the great chocolate

      whore

      of babylon

      and his oompaloompa horde

      ride their psychedelic ships

      home

      to our harbor

      and we are all

      one

      golden ticket

      short

      of redemption,

      indentured servants

      to his cause

      "We're asking you to retell your favorite book. In 33 words."

      "3 Wishes"

      Wish

      wish wish

      like a heart

      in the dark

      of your mind

      beating

      Wish

      wish wish

      chest

      bared

      in the pit

      screaming

      sharpened pendulum

      descending

      swinging

      Wish

      wish wish

      you’ll see her

      nevermore

      The Monkey's Paw, a short story by W.W. Jacobs, is about the strings that come with granted wishes. We are asking you to write 33 words exactly about three wishes that come at a high price to the wisher.

      On the count of three

      you were

      always

      spinning free

      neither tree

      nor what you should be,

      a helicopter seed

      all motion,

      letting go,

      so difficult

      to know

      my direction,

      whether my feet

      were planted

      in the

      ground

      This weekend we are challenging you to write 33 of your own words to build upon the following: On the count of three...You can choose to include those words if you want, but they do not count toward the 33 words of your own.

      Bills,

      clippings,

      yellowing photographs,

      thickening scabs covering

      walls,

      she wonders

      what wound, what hideous scars

      lie

      underneath

      this buckling façade,

      is this all

      there is

      holding her up,

      keeping her

      from

      the

      downpour.

      Here are some photos to inspire you. Choose one and give us a metaphor or simile to help describe what you see – (walls of an outdoor room covered in stapled, taped paper, etc.) Make your analogy 33 words or less

      Broken butterfly

      Wings

      mere struts,

      Leonardo's

      bat wings

      minus

      canvas,

      bulbous eyes

      searching,

      turning

      as I reach

      to take it

      home?

      stomp a quick

      death?

      leave the hopeless spark

      fluttering?

      I question

      all

      my

      answers.

      Describe something that is three different things at the same time. Oh, and do it in 33 words.

      Sevenling (in 33 words)

      So many years,

      so many miles,

      this patina of indifference separating us.

      Father, how frail,

      how like grandfather.

      When did you get old?

      Not father, I realize, my brother staring back at me.

      The Rule of Three is a writing principle that asserts that, in writing, groups of three have the most impact. This week's challenge is to write 33 words using the Rule of Three somewhere among them.

      Grasping

      the last strains,

      every available point

      there ever was

      or could be,

      wondering if this was all,

      she slid her fingertips

      along the glass,

      lingered in the corners

      of sunlight,

      of refraction.

      For this weekend's challenge, we'd like you to read the 33 words below and then add 33 of your own words to move the story along.

      The last strains of sunlight lingered in the corners, grasping every available point of refraction. She slid her fingertips along the glass wondering if this was all there ever was. Or could be.

      In three words

      I can sum up

      everything

      I've learned about

      kissing -

      Keep

      It

      Simple...

      Robert Frost one said, "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." We want you to do the same. Sum up anything you want, but do it in three words. Your response should mirror Frost's quote by beginning, "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about--." And the last four words are yours to choose.

      Jesus

      Jesus, a man like Zarathustra and Buddha,

      a story born to bear the world’s heavy burden

      Jesus, a curse flowing like a wound

      from your lips

      Jesus, the gardener who married

      your daughter

      Noted blues musician, Lead Belly, was quoted in Three Uses of the Knife by David Mamet as saying:

      You take a knife, you use it to cut the bread, so you'll have strength to work; you use it to shave, so you'll look nice for your lover; on discovering her with another, you use it to cut out her lying heart.

      He uses one object, a knife, to flesh out a character and to tell a story in a basic three-part dramatic structure. We want the same from you. Give us 33 words (exactly) that tell us three different uses for one object.

      A fabulist's contract

      The talking gecko and quacking duck

      insisted

      their contract protected him

      before and after

      any accident -

      too late

      the man realized

      slowly sliding

      down

      the cliff face

      was when he really

      needed help.

      Tell us an original fable in exactly 33 words.

      Trifecta: The Novel

      It was a hard, roof rumbling, loose pane rattling dark and stormy night;

      his one small flickering light casting shadows -

      an obsessive need to write in a mad, mad word counting world.

      "We want to play on an oft-noted literary concept: that of the opening line of a book (also known as an incipit, if you're fancy) ... give us a 33-word opening line to your book."

      Riding this chain clanking

      rickety Ferris

      wheel

      skyward,

      a cresting

      carnival cacophony

      tumbling away

      backwards

      your stomach dropping, hands grasping

      falling with this girl

      one small awkward

      reaching

      step

      to hold

      her

      hand

      "In celebration of Moon Day we want you to write 33 words about someone who took a giant leap."

      Daughter

     

      This gray runway

      and rusting, silver river

      snaking its slow way

      to unfettered

      horizons –

      how long and at what great speed -


      lift off -

      your sudden leaping

      past the moon of us

      and childhood?

      "Please give us a creative piece inspired by the photo below. (Picture of a girl and cow separated by metal railing on a paved road) You have two options for word count: you can either give us 33 words or 333 words."

      Three

      Her world, a helicopter seed spinning

      under his fingers,

      a piano playing

      for an hour

      on the radio

      and she is all motion

      and letting go with the gravity

      of his notes

      telling her

      she is beautiful,

      desirable, attractive,

      everything she ever wanted to be

      just the way she is –

      Sandra, some of us have been plugging that meter

      all our lives for a second

      of bliss here,

      that special remembered year

      with two minutes of bliss

      there,

      this spinning free

      neither tree

      nor what you should be

      and I still feel your fingers

      from last night,

      your poem, the world

      a helicopter seed spinning

      making it hard to see

      where I am going,

      where my feet are planted

      in the ground.

      For this week’s poetry prompt, I want you to take one of the following lines and make it the first line of your poem. Feel free to take liberties with these openings.

      “The world, a helicopter seed spinning”

      Bliss

      Marcus said

      this then is

      bliss

      the knowing

      that whatever comes

      comes from the same source,

      the same fountain as us

      and, oh

      how we fling ourselves

      out into space

      for one exulting instant

      declaring gods, monsters

      and eternities all within our

      reach

      until gravity

      takes hold

      and we fall

      one drop among

      many -

      our one small shout

      lost

      in a resounding torrent of

      bliss, bliss, bliss

      Write a poem that reveals bliss

      t-shirt

      Worn holey

      and wholly faded,

      a holy shrine

      of your college days -

      it's a thick skin of buddies

      and gals and easy booze

      unraveling,

      what your spouse

     


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