The exercise:
Go radio, YouTube, or iPod surfing. Steal a line or two from any song that catches your ear and use them as the first lines of your poetry or prose.
Mine:
Beck - Scarecrow
My soul's just a silhouette,
In the ashes of a cigarette;
My sad sorry tale is sung,
Through yellowed teeth and blackened lungs.
Smoke's been filling up my eyes,
Truth's been hiding behind lies;
My embers are losing their glow,
Soon I'll join the fires below.
2 comments:
Lines from "NYC Weather Report" - Five for Fighting
"Got to get away from here...
Got to get away from all these thinkers... drinking up my thoughts again."
Thoughts of a Poet in a Suit
The air in this boardroom is stifling. Why am I in a place that chains all that is true about me? Time to look at my watch. Oh God, another twenty minutes of numbers, stats and projections. I better smile or nod once in a while. Pretend that I'm present. At least, I don't have to say anything. This guy likes to go on and on. If only I could quit now, maybe my creative life could start again. Trapped by a paycheck. This really stinks.
Ah, I've so been in that boardroom before. It's like you were there with me :)
Post a Comment