Wednesday February 6th, 2013

The exercise:

Time has slipped past me without me noticing once again, so let us return to: the Random CD prompt.

Find a song as randomly as you like (from your own music collection, online radio streams, good old YouTube, etc) and use its first line as your own. Then? Take it from there, in poetry or prose.

I think we all know by now that credit goes where it's due for the borrowed lyrics, but I'll say it again anyway.

Went back to the Mother Goose group with Max this morning. A few new faces to go with those that were there last week. Still lots of fun. Still the only dad.

Oh, and don't worry, I haven't forgotten - we'll be going back to Mejaran tomorrow.


Knights of Cydonia by Muse

"Come ride with me through the veins of history."

By all rights, that should have been the end of the conversation right there. Most days I get pestered by an obvious nutjob I just walk away. Maybe after a snide observation or three, if it's been a rough one.

That night in the bar though, something was different. It could have been on his end: the earnestness in his eyes, the steady hand he held out to me, the way he fit into those jeans. Or, and I'll admit that this is the more likely option, it could have simply been the two pitchers of beer I'd taken care of shortly before he strode into my life.

"So what, you've got a time machine parked out back or something?" I asked, laughing loudly at my drunken wit. "Like a DeLorean? You don't look like Mikey Fox to me."

"This is your one and only chance," he said with unnerving calm. "You do not want to let this opportunity slip away."

In response I pulled out my phone and began scrolling through my contact list. The names were a little blurry but I knew they had one thing in common: I hadn't spoken with any of them in months.

"Sure, what the hell? What have I got to lose?"

"That's not the question you should be asking," he said with the first appearance of that damned smile of his. I pushed myself to my feet, swaying gently as I waited for his elaboration. "I would suggest instead: what have you got to gain?"

"Riches beyond imagination?" I asked, trying to sound like I didn't really mean it.

"Something like that."

Well, with a hook like that what was a girl like me to do but go with him? So I went.


Greg said...

Delta Rae: Dance in the Graveyards

When I die, I don't want to rest in peace–
It was written on the gravestone, right under her name. Well, if Isabella Bonfontaine were being completely honest with herself, it appeared to have been scraped into the gravestone by a finger or a stick while the stone was still wet... which was, of course, impossible. What kind of thing had strength enough to poke a finger through stone and draw letters out of it...?
"Izzy?" Marco was stood at another gravestone a little further away, pointing. "Izzy, I think this is it! It says Stabigail Rinnovare here."
Isabella half-smiled, all her stroke-afflicted face would allow, but the smile faded fast as she realised that the same name was on the gravestone in front of her. She checked: yes, it was on the one to the left as well, but not the one to the right....
"Marco, I think we have a problem," said Isabella. Her voice was quiet and commanding, and the graveyard seemed less threatening when she spoke. "Stabigail seems to be buried in quite a lot of graves."
Even in the poor light and rising mist Marco's face was a picture of puzzlement.
"I think they've had to bury her several times," said Isabella. Marco still looked perplexed.
"I think she's undead," said Isabella. "And enjoying it."

Greg said...

Oops, completely forgot to write a full comment because I was caught up with trying to the links and lyrics right!
Sounds like you're likely to be the only father at Mother Goose most of the time then, but that may not be a bad thing: you'll have a fresh perspective on some things :)
The video to the song you picked is quite fascinating, I rather enjoyed it. And I did like the story you wove from the evocative first line: so much potential again!

Anonymous said...

i imported this from my own blog, using the last line of a song (for variation)

Looking Back

I spent some time looking back, this morning.
Not far back, just enough to reassess the decisions I’d made.
Reminiscing, you might say.
I re-read what I wrote a year ago, “life is about experiences, not things,” was one that stood out.
I read further.
If I had just stayed put, I would have missed out on some fun things - puffy pillows of sea foam, bits of coral greeting me that I did not have to dive for, the patterns left in rocks carved by a volcano so ancient this is the only evidence left of it, endless fields of sugar cane swaying in an endless summer heat, good steak and red cabbage, dragonflies greeting my every trip to the washing line, even the Green Man who ran and stretched looking out to sea so punctually you could set an alarm clock by him - I would have none of these if I’d stayed in one spot. 

The shark only survives by constant motion.
If it stays still, it dies.

Maybe there is something of the shark in me;
it is not a bad thing.

It is said that you only appreciate what you’ve got or where you are by comparing it to those times that are more negative. As my heart goes out to those folk who are suffering back there, where I was so briefly, I echo the truth in that statement. 

’The compass will turn, and turn again’ and all the while there is the feeling of someone holding my hand, beside me, ’beside...’ (Jon Anderson and Vangelis.)

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

Great to see we're going back to Mejaran tomorrow! I've actually been working on fleshing out my bit for that of late. But to today!

The Mountain Goats; "The Autopsy Garland"
- - - - - - - - - -
One clear shot, or else he gets away. He'd eluded the others, so it came down to me.

I followed as close as I dared, keeping one eye on him and one on the traffic. He had duck-outs everywhere, and depending how focused you were you might step out to follow just that little bit early or that little bit late.

By black metropolitan magic he got all the way to the tracks on the edge of town without being in good view. But we didn't need a shot in the city.

We needed it here, in the lion's den.

It was harder to follow as close as I had, so I held back, kept behind posts and piles. I kept a close eye on the tracks. This was where our last guy had problems.

Finally, the shot lined up. Keep steady, line it up...

Got it.

I've always been told you don't want to see these guys without their masks on. Too much trouble.

If this shot got in tomorrow's edition, any following trouble would be worth it.

And it was. Just barely.

Marc said...

Greg - ooh, wonderfully creepy scene. Personally I'd be hightailing it out of there as soon as I realized what was going on, but I'm glad those two stuck around long enough to share the tale with us :)

And yes, the video for the song I chose is really quite... something.

Writebite - love the shark comparison, it's very apt. And I like that you used the line as your closing. I've done that once before, but feel like maybe I should try it out again.

g2 - nice twist towards the end there. And what a delightfully tantalizing final line you've left us with!