The 2nd batch in our workshop series is out!
We unfortunately did not get a 6th or 7th response, but I think that we will do just fine!.
I added a poem as well (one that I can’t seem to get right).
Anyways – Get at it, and start reviewing!
Thanks again everyone!
Time Told Wonder
By: Nathaniel C. Bek(NCBEK)/ Http://ncbek.wordpress.com
When today becomes tomorrow
And we look back upon the stones of our memory
At the marbled tiles
Fragmented snapshots of our colorful years
I want you to feel the lines that make their story
As pieces drawn of a larger idea
Not as the slivers of aged experience
Riddled with stories already known,
I want you to hear the shuffle of feet
Across the floorboards as old as our dreams
As your eyes dance along the rows of my wrinkles
Not as you lose the understanding through translation
While noise becomes pain,
I want you to find
The fight of a man in determination
Resilience stout in hearts demands
But not in his unrelenting strength,
And so I ask you to feel your chest
Beneath the skin and bone
And reach for that heart that took you here
And in that caring moment,
I want you to know
That the life we shared
Although now old and dull
Was like sweet wine
Perfected over the years of our lips
A taste as exciting as its hour
The perfected note played by time’s hand
And even in the end
After all the magic is revealed
I will be waiting here
At the reach of your nervous arm
To make you wonder.
Inspiration: Through the years we often forget what makes things special. We forget the times that keep us wondering. We think of others as objects that we have seen day-in-and-out for the last 8,000,000 years and it all seems boring. We don’t take time to realize that it is up to us to look past ourselves and see the moments that truly make us happy, and the people that we share those moments with.
What to think about: Think about a time where you had thought that a person you knew was so well known that you didn’t even feel like spending time with them. Is this because you really know them? Do you feel there are moments still left unexplained? Is there something new you could be doing?
What I would like: I feel like there are a couple points in this poem that have (hang-ups). The poem flows quite nicely besides them, but I am not sure what it is. I am also open to what is good and bad about this. I also like to strike a memory or moment with people, and I hope that this does that. Please let me know! Thanks
By: Lauren Nalls/http://laurennalls.wordpress.com/
just outside the have and hold
I’m taunted with a wicked grin
jangled keys for my release
my gaoler from within
fingers raw and clawing
heavy oak and iron door
slams fast across a tendered soul
bars entry evermore
streaking bloodstains gather here
mark days of no escape
numbered on cold stone-heart walls
your endured, repeated rape
you’ll earn your spurs on me today
no honor shall remain
for I have sentenced myself to
a dungeon of disdain
a treasonous confinement
for us I did commit
but this weeping plight troth prison
is a crime I’ll not admit
What inspired me: The idea that we create prisons for ourselves based upon our actions.
Something for audience to take away: The feeling of a self-imposed prison without having to have made that mistake themselves.
What feedback I’m looking for: Any helpful criticism that will make me a better writer.
Some Lives (Reality)
dresser push up against
fetal position on bed
so much fear
so much shame
The One Who Will Never Be
By: Mary Gichuki/http://wanguigichuki1.wordpress.com/
You cloud my thoughts
And stir my heart with emotions
You are the one I think of when I rise
And the last to reminisce about before I slumber.
The smiles before seem to obliterate,
As your smile is all I can see.
My thoughts are no longer my own
You are the center of me.
I long for your embrace,
Your kisses and cuddles.
In my dreams we build our castle
However, in reality we can’t seem to come into terms.
Memories are all I lean on
I cover myself with the moments we had.
Bath in the words we shared
And feed in what you taught me best.
You you you, you are all I can think about,
Why do you take a hold over my life?
I thought goodbye was the end of us.
You still hold my heart,
You The One Who Will Never Be.
Motivation: An ex lover that took time to get over.
Take out : That we all have that one person we have had in our life that took time to let go as we hoped that the love shared was real and would result to something. Letting go is never easy. I wrote this hoping it would resonate with someone out there who knows how it feels.
What I expect: Honest and genuine thoughts about the piece and the writing.
I could not say that her skin was porcelain.
Rather, like bean sprouts—the way
it would bloat sometimes in tears or
wither and brown without enough
love. In February, I noticed how it seemed
to condense; it was cold out
and everything dripped in rainwater.
Her sobbing relieved so much strength
she could not help but sweat. I saw it
seep through her yuzu pores, matting her
mustard seed hair. I kissed, only once,
her hands to ease her crying. It did not.
I remember only her hands
so scentless they reminded me
of steam. The fear came over me in the morning:
I would find her dead– slain
from heartache or some other
purposelessness. I thought she had no bone
to bear it. But perhaps her skin was more
like porcelain, her hair only matted
with rain, her hands the scent of dry
granite. I know less of my mother now
than I did before. Maybe she has life
the length of the dusted Grapevine I put
What inspired you to write this poem:
-I worked as a waitress for a few years through high school, college and post-grad. One of my employers had me working 8 hour shifts, so as you can imagine, there were long hours of absolutely no business. I took to smelling and staring at everything in the restaurant to pass the time. This poem was inspired not by my mother, but by the distinct surroundings of this particular restaurant.
Something for the audience to take away from your work:
-I struggle to describe our moments of estrangement, abandonment, and solitude through poetry.
By: Nora O’Mahoney/http://noraomahoney.wordpress.com/
I see you in the distance. My idea.
I grab for ways to make you come alive.
I wonder when I will articulate all the ways that I see you coming alive.
How is this going to happen?
How will I find my answers?
How do others make ideas become reality?
Become alive to do good in the world.
I will nurture you into life.