Daily writing prompts from June 9th, 2008 to December 31st, 2022
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Saturday November 2nd, 2019
The exercise: Write a four line poem about: the leak. Mine: Bucky collapsed to the ground, ten bullet holes Leaking black oil and grey steam. Junior went next, its lights dimming before it Even had a chance to scream.
Well, this is mounting tension very nicely! Two down, and I wasn't really expecting that at all, I thought they'd fight back. At least for longer.... I am now a little wary of what's coming up!
This is probably the last chance I'll get to post everything in Part IV so far before it's too long, so here's what we've got, plus the leak
PART IV The sea leads to the river mouth, where stands The Unreal City in her grandeur. Plumes Of smoke bestride the gates and blacken the Horizon. Gold is bright in sunlight though
And while the Robot storms the walls the Sai- -lor polishes his sword. He’s fought just pi- -rates in the past, incursions of a sal- -ty kind and never lost a single bout.
The Robot seeks an entrance through the walls: It tears the stone apart with metal hands, Ignores the calls for mercy as it meets Its own demands, and pushes ever on.
Madame Sosotris looks upon the cards, She trusts them more than anything outside. The Shadow looks across the City, and The Robot looks where the Sailor stands.
The cards are turned; the Empress is reveal’d; The four of hearts, a solitary dia- -mond, the ten of clubs: a family Surrounds the Sailor. Men, his crew: his life.
The Robot calculates precisely where Its enemies will start their next attack A steady barrage, missiles scream across The sky, and naturally some men do die.
The golden sword is held aloft and cat- ches sunlight on its blade. Still standing there the Sailor hears a chorus of the once betrayed and jaded spirits fill the air.
They gather round the Robot and confuse Its electronic sensors, turning them To generators of white noise. Now miss- -iles fly to random points but still men die.
At last an arrow penetrates the Ro- -bot’s chest and coolant fluid spurts into The air. Prismatic light forms into rain- -bows and the golden sword responds in kind.
Greg - heh, I think I'm running out of time for too much fighting back. I guess we shall see though.
Aw, man, I'm going to have to post all of mine at some point. That will take at least two days.
Thank you for taking the time to put this together, it's much easier to appreciate what you're doing when I can see it this way. That new stanza is brilliant as well, so that don't hurt either :)
Well, this is mounting tension very nicely! Two down, and I wasn't really expecting that at all, I thought they'd fight back. At least for longer.... I am now a little wary of what's coming up!
ReplyDeleteThis is probably the last chance I'll get to post everything in Part IV so far before it's too long, so here's what we've got, plus the leak
PART IV
The sea leads to the river mouth, where stands
The Unreal City in her grandeur. Plumes
Of smoke bestride the gates and blacken the
Horizon. Gold is bright in sunlight though
And while the Robot storms the walls the Sai-
-lor polishes his sword. He’s fought just pi-
-rates in the past, incursions of a sal-
-ty kind and never lost a single bout.
The Robot seeks an entrance through the walls:
It tears the stone apart with metal hands,
Ignores the calls for mercy as it meets
Its own demands, and pushes ever on.
Madame Sosotris looks upon the cards,
She trusts them more than anything outside.
The Shadow looks across the City, and
The Robot looks where the Sailor stands.
The cards are turned; the Empress is reveal’d;
The four of hearts, a solitary dia-
-mond, the ten of clubs: a family
Surrounds the Sailor. Men, his crew: his life.
The Robot calculates precisely where
Its enemies will start their next attack
A steady barrage, missiles scream across
The sky, and naturally some men do die.
The golden sword is held aloft and cat-
ches sunlight on its blade. Still standing there
the Sailor hears a chorus of the once
betrayed and jaded spirits fill the air.
They gather round the Robot and confuse
Its electronic sensors, turning them
To generators of white noise. Now miss-
-iles fly to random points but still men die.
At last an arrow penetrates the Ro-
-bot’s chest and coolant fluid spurts into
The air. Prismatic light forms into rain-
-bows and the golden sword responds in kind.
Greg - heh, I think I'm running out of time for too much fighting back. I guess we shall see though.
ReplyDeleteAw, man, I'm going to have to post all of mine at some point. That will take at least two days.
Thank you for taking the time to put this together, it's much easier to appreciate what you're doing when I can see it this way. That new stanza is brilliant as well, so that don't hurt either :)