Tag Archives: noise

NaPoWriMo, 2013, #30

LONGFELLOW AT HIS SHORTEST (PROMPT)

Another Longfellow distortion of facts. Our prompt was to take a poem and write the opposite. I chose “The Arrow and the Song”, which, out of respect for Longfellow because I’m about to ruin his name, I will put first.

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

My version “The Song and The Arrow”:

I shot my arrow to the ground,
I knew right then where it was bound;
So slowly did it move away,
I could see precisely where it lay.

I belted out a song to earth,
The arrow entered to its girth;
Anyone with ears could hear,
My song, and run in fear!

Soon, quite soon, stuck in the clay
The arrow, broken, where it lay;
Parts of my song that I had sung,
Stolen by enemies one by one.

NaPoWriMo

Have you ever thought how nice it would be if all people were quiet and didn’t talk so much!  Have you ever wondered how many words are necessary to say what you want?

 

SHRINKING THOUGHTS

Oh! Say I then loudly, leave me now!

Oh! Say I then loudly, leave me!

Oh! Say I then loudly, leave!

Oh! Say I then loudly.

Oh, say I then.

Oh, say I.

Oh, say!

Oh!

NaPoWriMo, Another #23, 2013

THIS RHYME IS A CRIME

My brain it won’t stop thinking in rhymes.
Is there a psychological title in these times?
My brain it won’t stop thinking in rhymes!

Must every sentence be part of this poem
everywhere I go, not just when I’m home?
Must every sentence be part of this poem?

My mind is spinning out of control
and my body is falling into the hole.
My mind is spinning out of control!

I’ve entered space and am passing the moon
singing all the while my mysterious tune
I’ve entered space and am passing the moon.

What’s happening to me as I move my lips
when I feel the universe floor as it rips.
what’s happening to me as I move my lips?

I’m torn apart as my rhymes bounce back
as they hit me like a kind of flack.
I’m torn apart as my rhymes bounce back!

I’ll go upstairs and bury my head
under my pillow upon my bed.
I’ll go upstairs and bury my head.

NaPoWriMo, 2013, #23, Prompted Optional Triolet

DEAD SUNBURN

My love is lying in the sun
that fair skin usually makes her shun.
The hunters are starting their day.
My love is lying in the sun.
I hope the hunters miss their prey.
My love is lying in the sun
that fair skin usually makes her shun!

NaPoWriMo, 2013, #16, Translation Mistakes Prompt

This prompt was hysterical. When I read my tranlation I couldn’t stop laughing!
And yes, my spell check went bonkers. I chose poems of Swedish language because there were only 8 to choose from (I’m not good with decisions) and, yes, my spelling and grammar check is still going bonkers but at least it turned green. So, I’ve re-written this depressing poem with my pardon to the author and the Swedish language also.

BLI ALDRIG VÄN MED EN KRÅKA

Bli aldrig vän med en kråka!
sade en biolog i radion. Kråkan
fäster sig snabbt vid dig, hon knackar på
fönstret oavbrutet, kråkan blir lätt psykotisk.
Ingenting händer här. Ingenting. Trädgårdar
i regn. Citroner i månsken. En flock kajor lyfte med ett
häftigt oväsen vid ruinen igår kväll. Klockorna milt
genom diset. Röken, klangerna. Jag såg en gång
en liten flickas ögon gå i moln, det var irreparabelt
från början, det gör ont. Molnet drog över den
violetta ögonvitan långsamt inåt mot
pupillen och sedan kunde jag inte
följa det längre, molnet.

© 1997, Tua Forsström
From: Efter att ha tillbringat en natt bland hästar
Publisher: Bonniers; Helsingfors; Söderstrom, Stockholm, 1997

This is MY translation (LOL!)

FRIEND NEVER MAKE THEM A CROW!

Friend never make them a crow!
Said a Biologist on radio. Crows
fasten they quickly with you. She knocks on
window overmuch. Crows become very psychotic.
Nothing happens here. Nothing.
Garden In rain. Citrus in moonlight.
A flock jackdaws lifted them here
Having overture with ruin last day.
Bell noise mild distance through, smoke, clanging.
I saw in Past In little girl eyes gone in a clouds.
That was irreparable.
From beginning it was pain.
Cloud drag over it Violet eye white slowly into towards.

This is my re-write:

ALWAYS MAKE FRIENDS WITH CROWS

If I had a crow as a friend
there would always be something to do.
You can teach them to knock on windows
and they are always laughing at you.

A stupid Biologist said
on the radio one rainy night.
That citrus trees grow in the garden
and that jackdaws take off in moonlight.

Their noise in the castle ruins
blends with the bells in the town
The clanging through smoke in the distance
is the blind girl burning it down.