stillonmystring: (brittany bats her pretty eyelashes)
I've decided I want to write more poems this year since for the past three years I've averaged about five poems overall, which seems a bit pathetic to me. So, anyway, it's basically all I've been doing for the last week or two and I'm not sure if it's because I'm genuinely enjoying it or because I'm just trying to avoid working on my other half-finished projects, probably a combination of both. Anyway, here are some I finished last week. I still have two or three I'm working on, one of which is very nearly finished so will definitely be done sometime soon and the other two are still just vague ideas so I'm not sure if/when they'll be completed. Also, in regards to my bigger writing endeavors, I realized that I have actually added a bit to this story, which started out basically as a way for me to compile a lot of information about Swan Dive's Beatrice in one place so that I could get a better grasp on her character but I'm starting to get really invested in it so who knows where it will actually go or how long it will be. Ideally, I would love to get up to the actual events of Swan Dive and look at them from Beatrice's perspective but I have no idea if I'll ever actually make it there.Anyway, poems now.

In the Light, You Are Mine. Honestly, the origins of this poem can be traced back about a year and a half. It's gone through three major revisions at this point, all of them entirely different from one another. I basically just took the handful of random lines I still liked from each version and re-incorporated them, changing the concept a bit each time, until I was happy with the end result. Actually, this poem was once inspired by a line from the Grammatics song, "Cruel Tricks of the Light," ("Now and every shining time/You were ghostly-eyed and mine") but you can't really tell now. I guess that's a good thing. It's more original.

The Hallway. I wish I could have come up with a more interesting title but, alas, I couldn't think of anything more fitting. But, really, that's the only part of this I don't like. If you can believe it, this one was inspired by a truly terrible poem I wrote way back in 2003 when I was, what, thirteen or fourteen? Anyway, it used such compelling phrases as "herbal shampoo" and "musky cologne" but I liked the title - Out of Touch - and wanted to do it justice now that, in my opinion, my writing is about a thousand percent improved. My favorite part of this one is the last three lines. I find them really quite devastating and beautiful and I don't care if that sounds a bit conceited because it's true.

Bus Stop. This one was very, very loosely inspired by January. Basically, I decided I hate that story now but like some of the description and imagery and the general mood of it. So I stole a few very small bits from it and transplanted them into an entirely new concept. Also, this was my attempt to write something other than a sad love poem, which are all I seem to be writing lately despite the fact that they relate to my own life in absolutely no way.

Now, here, have some Sims!

stillonmystring: (Default)
I first started this poem ages ago as something completely different (and completely shitty) and got so frustrated by it that I gave it up half-finished. Recently, for some reason, I got inspired to restart it pretty much from scratch. Seriously, the only thing that’s remotely similar between the two versions is the title. Also, this somehow managed to turn into a beast somewhere along the way. That always happens to me; I start out with this simple idea that I don't think will take more than a handful of stanzas to cover then I keep getting more ideas and it becomes terribly unwieldy and long-winded and I can't seem to stop it, it just keeps going and going despite my efforts. So I probably should have edited this into a short story but... I didn't. Because poems are just so much more aesthetically pleasing to me for some reason. I don't know; all of those short lines of text, especially when centered and formatted just so, look so... elegant and clean and like they have a real purpose for being there. That's not quite something you can get out of a typically-styled short story. I may have ended up going a bit overboard with the adjectives and meticulously detailed descriptions but, well, I like adjectives so shut up. I'm pretty happy with it regardless.

Soooo here it is.

I feel I should give a bit of credit where it's due. The title was borrowed from Joanna Newsom’s “Monkey & Bear”: “Dance, darlin’/Come on, will you dance, my darlin’?” The colt comparison near the beginning was shamelessly stolen from The Secret History by Donna Tartt: “She gazed at me with vacant, drunken composure, standing coltlike on the outer edge of her black-stockinged foot so the ankle was twisted inward in a startling, effortless L.” It was actually near identical to the second half of this passage when I decided that was too much and tried to make it more my own. Also, the final two lines were semi-inspired by a line in Lydia’s “Hospital”: “Sing like you just might drown/But always come back home.” Actually, it’s more like I had originally paraphrased that sentiment in a much less beautiful way and then mangled it into the end result.

P.S. Did Lee seriously just win American Idol?!? I know it's a pretty shit show in general and it has been especially shitty this year (the only person I liked was Lily, who got voted off too soon, and for awhile Siobhan, until she turned totally predictable and lame; Crystal was talented - and definitely should have won over Lee - but nothing special, really) but WTF, HONESTLY. THE GUY CANNOT SING. AT ALL. THE JUDGES SPENT ALL LAST NIGHT TRASHING HIM (at least compared to the tongue bath they gave Crystal) AND HE STILL WON. DO NOT COMPREHEND. AMERICA, I HAVE LOST WHAT LITTLE FAITH IN YOU I HAD REMAINING. FOR SHAME!

P.P.S. Speaking of predictable shittiness, the new Christina Aguilera album is, well, predictably shitty. I'll probably force myself to listen to it one more time just to say I gave it a fair chance but it is seriously underwhelming and actually pretty embarrassing. It's kind of sad what a joke she's turned into. Stripped wasn't genius by any means but it was at least interesting to listen to. This is just so lifeless and dull and "look at me! I'm so EDGY! even though I'm not actually edgy at all!" Ugh.

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Shannon

January 2012

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