The exercise:
Write about: music.
Showing posts with label Music Prompt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music Prompt. Show all posts
Monday April 16th, 2018
The exercise:
First day back at Public Works. To celebrate, I bring you: Nirvana Week.
Seven days, seven different Nirvana songs as prompts. Connect them if you wish - that was my intention when I made the selections - or take them on individually. Either way, I hope you have fun.
Let us begin with: About A Girl
First day back at Public Works. To celebrate, I bring you: Nirvana Week.
Seven days, seven different Nirvana songs as prompts. Connect them if you wish - that was my intention when I made the selections - or take them on individually. Either way, I hope you have fun.
Let us begin with: About A Girl
Monday March 7th, 2016
The exercise:
Today each of us shall pick the title of a song and use that as our individual inspiration. Not the subject of the song, not any lyrics, just the title.
This afternoon was Max's last soccer class for this session. The community centre will be coming out with their spring leisure guide soon (you'd think I'd know when, but I don't work there very often) and we're planning on signing him up again. Hopefully Natalie will be joining him.
Oh, since I'm stupid behind on comments once again, I'll just say this here: Greg, I shall try to get a picture of the deer fence for you tomorrow. For now, just know that it's tall enough that they can't jump over it.
Mine:
Blame It on Me by George Ezra
All of the tears,
All of the scars,
Every last fight;
Come on, come on,
I will take it
And hold it tight.
All of the cheats,
All of the scams
In this unfair game -
Of life, of love -
I'll take more than
My share of the blame.
All of the quakes,
All of the droughts,
The rise of the sea!
Go ahead, go on,
It's all right if
You blame it on me.
My skin is thick,
My back is strong -
I'll smile all the while!
You've got more gripes?
Another hurt?
Add it to the pile.
Today each of us shall pick the title of a song and use that as our individual inspiration. Not the subject of the song, not any lyrics, just the title.
This afternoon was Max's last soccer class for this session. The community centre will be coming out with their spring leisure guide soon (you'd think I'd know when, but I don't work there very often) and we're planning on signing him up again. Hopefully Natalie will be joining him.
Oh, since I'm stupid behind on comments once again, I'll just say this here: Greg, I shall try to get a picture of the deer fence for you tomorrow. For now, just know that it's tall enough that they can't jump over it.
Mine:
Blame It on Me by George Ezra
All of the tears,
All of the scars,
Every last fight;
Come on, come on,
I will take it
And hold it tight.
All of the cheats,
All of the scams
In this unfair game -
Of life, of love -
I'll take more than
My share of the blame.
All of the quakes,
All of the droughts,
The rise of the sea!
Go ahead, go on,
It's all right if
You blame it on me.
My skin is thick,
My back is strong -
I'll smile all the while!
You've got more gripes?
Another hurt?
Add it to the pile.
Sunday April 27th, 2014
The exercise:
Brought to you by my recent rediscovery of this album, pick a song title from Nirvana's MTV Unplugged performance and use it as the inspiration for your writing today. I ended up choosing one of the covers they did, mostly because I found those the most appealing, so don't feel obligated to pick one of their original songs.
Kat and I slipped a bit of farm time into our day off, as we wanted to get the cabbage plants out in the garden. We did the savoy and purple, but didn't get to the regular green variety. It was tempting to keep going until we finished, but we managed to resist spending too much of the day working.
Mine:
The Man Who Sold The World
You wouldn't have suspected a thing if you'd seen him walking down the street before it all went down. Not that you'd have been likely to see him there in the first place - he spent the vast majority of his time in his mother's basement, fixated on that fancy computer of his.
I guess that investment really paid off for him in the end, huh? I mean, that's why he was the first one to decode the messages. That's why he was the first one to figure out how to speak the language, send a reply back.
If it wasn't for that single minded determination of his, they never would have trusted him like they did. Otherwise, the offer might have been sent to someone else. Someone holed up in some secret government laboratory, I bet.
I wonder if his or her answer would have been any different?
Probably not. Perhaps the final number would have been slightly different, maybe a few billion dollars in either direction.
Heck, I know I would have sold the world for that kind of money. Though I'd like to think that I would have insisted on a few more people being spared when they arrived to take the reins...
Brought to you by my recent rediscovery of this album, pick a song title from Nirvana's MTV Unplugged performance and use it as the inspiration for your writing today. I ended up choosing one of the covers they did, mostly because I found those the most appealing, so don't feel obligated to pick one of their original songs.
Kat and I slipped a bit of farm time into our day off, as we wanted to get the cabbage plants out in the garden. We did the savoy and purple, but didn't get to the regular green variety. It was tempting to keep going until we finished, but we managed to resist spending too much of the day working.
Mine:
The Man Who Sold The World
You wouldn't have suspected a thing if you'd seen him walking down the street before it all went down. Not that you'd have been likely to see him there in the first place - he spent the vast majority of his time in his mother's basement, fixated on that fancy computer of his.
I guess that investment really paid off for him in the end, huh? I mean, that's why he was the first one to decode the messages. That's why he was the first one to figure out how to speak the language, send a reply back.
If it wasn't for that single minded determination of his, they never would have trusted him like they did. Otherwise, the offer might have been sent to someone else. Someone holed up in some secret government laboratory, I bet.
I wonder if his or her answer would have been any different?
Probably not. Perhaps the final number would have been slightly different, maybe a few billion dollars in either direction.
Heck, I know I would have sold the world for that kind of money. Though I'd like to think that I would have insisted on a few more people being spared when they arrived to take the reins...
Thursday June 6th, 2013
The exercise:
Today we're going to use song titles as the inspiration for our writing. But not just any song titles. I want you to pick one of the songs on this list of the worst song titles ever.
Worlds and worlds and worlds of possibilities in there.
This morning we got a late message from the restaurant we supply, asking for ten pounds of strawberries. As it was our first order from them I decided to make the effort to fill it and the cooks seemed suitably impressed with our berries.
I'm saving the rest of those bad boys for our market pick tomorrow morning though.
Mine:
I Changed Her Oil, She Changed My Life
The smell of grease and exhaust lingers still, residing in coveralls and rags, lurking beneath fingernails. I hear the rumble of an idling engine in the silent hours before midnight, guiding me toward comforting dreams.
Fingers twitch when they find themselves unused, grasping for tools long since put away. Mufflers and brake lines occupy the corners of my eyes, always disappearing when I turn my head to get a better view. I keep on turning, though. Can't seem to stop myself.
It's been years, so many years since I left that life behind. Seems like that life isn't ready to leave me quite so easily. But that's all right, that's just fine.
I don't regret my choice.
Honest.
Today we're going to use song titles as the inspiration for our writing. But not just any song titles. I want you to pick one of the songs on this list of the worst song titles ever.
Worlds and worlds and worlds of possibilities in there.
This morning we got a late message from the restaurant we supply, asking for ten pounds of strawberries. As it was our first order from them I decided to make the effort to fill it and the cooks seemed suitably impressed with our berries.
I'm saving the rest of those bad boys for our market pick tomorrow morning though.
Mine:
I Changed Her Oil, She Changed My Life
The smell of grease and exhaust lingers still, residing in coveralls and rags, lurking beneath fingernails. I hear the rumble of an idling engine in the silent hours before midnight, guiding me toward comforting dreams.
Fingers twitch when they find themselves unused, grasping for tools long since put away. Mufflers and brake lines occupy the corners of my eyes, always disappearing when I turn my head to get a better view. I keep on turning, though. Can't seem to stop myself.
It's been years, so many years since I left that life behind. Seems like that life isn't ready to leave me quite so easily. But that's all right, that's just fine.
I don't regret my choice.
Honest.
Wednesday May 22nd, 2013
The exercise:
All right, I simply could not resist Greg's suggestion in the comments yesterday. You are, for the sake of today's writing, a member of a band named Damaging Winds and your first album, Chance of Large Hail, is about to be released. Write something inspired by this scenario - the lyrics to one of the songs, a concert review, an album release party scene...
Okay, now I'm just listing all the things I considered for mine. I'll just leave you guys to it.
Pretty miserable day here, weather wise. So I spent a good chunk of the morning in the greenhouse counting tomato plants, trying to figure out if we have enough of each variety potted up. Hopefully tomorrow will decide to return our sunshine to us.
Mine:
Damaging Winds Concert Cancelled Due To Light Breeze
Last night's highly anticipated performance by fast-rising stars Damaging Winds ended before a single note could reach the local airstream. Stadium officials were forced to give ticket holders the cold front less than an hour before the opening act was set to hit the stage.
"We were concerned for the safety of both our performers and their fans," one official later told reporters. "When the crowds were first informed of the unfortunate news the barometer was definitely rising outside the gates. We feared a riot was on the verge of manifesting, but thankfully cooler heads prevailed."
"Obviously this was a disappointing turn of events," lead singer Kevin "Cloud Burst" Thompson said in a released statement. "But we will return to make up this date later in the year, and me and the boys are looking forward to getting our meridional flow on with our stormy fans."
All right, I simply could not resist Greg's suggestion in the comments yesterday. You are, for the sake of today's writing, a member of a band named Damaging Winds and your first album, Chance of Large Hail, is about to be released. Write something inspired by this scenario - the lyrics to one of the songs, a concert review, an album release party scene...
Okay, now I'm just listing all the things I considered for mine. I'll just leave you guys to it.
Pretty miserable day here, weather wise. So I spent a good chunk of the morning in the greenhouse counting tomato plants, trying to figure out if we have enough of each variety potted up. Hopefully tomorrow will decide to return our sunshine to us.
Mine:
Damaging Winds Concert Cancelled Due To Light Breeze
Last night's highly anticipated performance by fast-rising stars Damaging Winds ended before a single note could reach the local airstream. Stadium officials were forced to give ticket holders the cold front less than an hour before the opening act was set to hit the stage.
"We were concerned for the safety of both our performers and their fans," one official later told reporters. "When the crowds were first informed of the unfortunate news the barometer was definitely rising outside the gates. We feared a riot was on the verge of manifesting, but thankfully cooler heads prevailed."
"Obviously this was a disappointing turn of events," lead singer Kevin "Cloud Burst" Thompson said in a released statement. "But we will return to make up this date later in the year, and me and the boys are looking forward to getting our meridional flow on with our stormy fans."
Wednesday December 5th, 2012
The exercise:
Direct your browsers over this way. See that? That's a list of all the albums that have won the Grammy for Album of the Year. Pick one album title to use as the inspiration for today's writing.
Went up to Penticton today for our second-to-last appointment with the midwives. We get one more at six weeks and then we're back in the care of our local doctor. Will be sad to see the last of them, as they have been totally amazing.
In other related news: Max is, as Kat likes to put it, a milk monster. He's up 24 ounces in the last two weeks, which means he's up to 9 pounds now.
Mine:
2005 - Ray Charles and Various Artists - Genius Loves Company
They gather in secret places,
Disguises on their faces,
To speak of intellectual things
And, after enough drinking, sing.
They sing only the oldest songs,
Often getting the lyrics wrong;
But no one's there to set them right,
So they keep on going all night.
Soon whispers take over from shouts
As each one of them passes out.
Genius usually loves company,
Just not mornings after whiskey.
Direct your browsers over this way. See that? That's a list of all the albums that have won the Grammy for Album of the Year. Pick one album title to use as the inspiration for today's writing.
Went up to Penticton today for our second-to-last appointment with the midwives. We get one more at six weeks and then we're back in the care of our local doctor. Will be sad to see the last of them, as they have been totally amazing.
In other related news: Max is, as Kat likes to put it, a milk monster. He's up 24 ounces in the last two weeks, which means he's up to 9 pounds now.
Mine:
2005 - Ray Charles and Various Artists - Genius Loves Company
They gather in secret places,
Disguises on their faces,
To speak of intellectual things
And, after enough drinking, sing.
They sing only the oldest songs,
Often getting the lyrics wrong;
But no one's there to set them right,
So they keep on going all night.
Soon whispers take over from shouts
As each one of them passes out.
Genius usually loves company,
Just not mornings after whiskey.
Thursday August 18th, 2011
The exercise:
I'm feeling like a musical prompt today. So pick the title of any song (feel free to ramble about YouTube or skip around your iPod to find one that works) and use it as the inspiration for your writing today - just the title, not the lyrics.
I went a little old school with mine.
Mine:
Bullet with Butterfly Wings - Smashing Pumpkins
She tapped out the password on the safe's keypad while whistling softly to herself. The lyrics to the song escaped her; it was just something she'd heard on the radio earlier in the day. Something about flying without wings, maybe.
Pulling the safe door open with her right hand, she reached in with her left and removed the unmarked box. She brought it over to the couch before placing it on the coffee table and taking a seat. Without looking, she grabbed the open bottle of tequila that had been lurking on the end table to her right and took a long swig.
She placed the bottle next to the box, which she now turned her attention to. Using her long pink fingernails she eased the cover upwards to reveal a handgun, a box of bullets, and a pencil case filled with paints and paintbrushes. The song returned to her lips as she unzipped the last item and extracted a brush with a very fine point and several miniature paint tins.
Next she pulled a single bullet from its container and set to work. The butterfly wings took shape on its side quickly as her fingers moved with practiced grace. Once she was satisfied, she set it aside to dry and took another taste of tequila. After a moment's hesitation she took out a second bullet and began painting it as well.
Wednesday April 13th, 2011
The exercise:
The Rolling Stones have sung many a song. Here's 195 of them. Pick one and write something based on it - not the lyrics, just the song title.
The Canucks got off to a good start tonight, winning the first game in their series by a score of two to nadda. Three more wins and Chicago is finally in their rearview.
Mine:
The woman behind the desk didn't bother to write down any of the information I gave her. She just looked at my driver's license for a moment before handing it back, then did the same with my credit card. After staring off into space for a minute she grabbed a room key off the wall behind her without looking and slid it across to me.
Well, if she didn't want to bother with paperwork that was fine with me.
I carried my overnight bag along the narrow second floor balcony as the sun was swallowed by the horizon. I was too busy admiring the red and orange clouds to notice the strange names on the doors of the rooms I passed.
The woman had said mine was the last room, so that's where I stopped and put down my bag. As I fished around in my pocket for the key, I looked up to see which room I had been given.
"Childhood?"
I barely had time to wonder what sort of strange naming conventions the place had before the door was pulled open from the inside. Shaking my head to clear the cobwebs, I was about to apologize for disturbing the occupant.
But that was when I realized I was looking down at myself, aged seven.
Monday July 12th, 2010
The exercise:
Alright, today's prompt was a lot simpler when it first occurred to me, but then it kind of spiraled out of control. I'll see if I can simplify it a little bit:
Step one: pick a group of people you wouldn't expect to make a rock band.
Step two: name that group's band by messing with an existing rock band's name.
Step three: make a song list for your made up band by messing with existing song titles (by any band).
I'm also going to ask that you put the original band/song title in brackets next to your created ones so that I know where they came from.
A bit more challenging than my usual prompts, I think, but I'm sure you're all more than capable of this :)
Update on last night's howling wind: still going, though it's calmed a bit now. During lunch I saw a bird fly by the house. Sideways.
It looked rather... startled.
Mine:
Band Members: Gardeners
Band Name: ... And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Weeds (... And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead)
Songs:
Another Seed In The Soil (Another Brick In The Wall)
Welcome To The Garden (Welcome To The Jungle)
Every Rose Has Been Weeded (Every Rose Has Its Thorn)
I Got Tan Lines (I Got Mine)
My Favorite Chores (My Favorite Chords)
Sunday December 13th, 2009
The exercise:
Vancouver is quite officially covered in snow right now. Everything is so much prettier :)
I've also decided how I want to count down to Christmas this year, but that won't be starting until Friday. I think. I might get started early, depending on how excited I get.
Today's prompt comes courtesy of Gwen: listen to any piece of classical music and write whatever it inspires you to write.
Mine:
Mozart - Eine kleine Nachtmusik
The ballroom is empty,
Except for the two of you.
You dance with eyes squeezed shut,
In a ghostly blur of blue.
The music plays softly,
But your steps are much softer;
Yet somehow they still seem
To echo in the rafters.
Then you dissipate as
The serenade falls silent;
You seemed happy for two
Who met an end so violent.
Vancouver is quite officially covered in snow right now. Everything is so much prettier :)
I've also decided how I want to count down to Christmas this year, but that won't be starting until Friday. I think. I might get started early, depending on how excited I get.
Today's prompt comes courtesy of Gwen: listen to any piece of classical music and write whatever it inspires you to write.
Mine:
Mozart - Eine kleine Nachtmusik
The ballroom is empty,
Except for the two of you.
You dance with eyes squeezed shut,
In a ghostly blur of blue.
The music plays softly,
But your steps are much softer;
Yet somehow they still seem
To echo in the rafters.
Then you dissipate as
The serenade falls silent;
You seemed happy for two
Who met an end so violent.
Wednesday September 23rd, 2009
The exercise:
Something a little different today: Santa Monica lines.
Here be the idear: the first poem (mine) uses the first line of the Everclear song as its first line; the second poem uses the second line of the song as its first line; the third uses the third as its first, and so on.
There are some great lines throughout the song that I think would work great as first lines. Let us see how far we get.
Mine:
I am still living with your ghost,
In the night I see you the most.
When sleep won't come I walk these halls;
I hear your voice within these walls.
I search for you from room to room,
Not fearful of this homely tomb -
Only eager to see your face,
To meet the eyes that made hearts race.
You always wait at the table,
Like a princess from a fable.
We talk until the sun does rise,
Then you wipe dry my tearful eyes.
And just like that you're gone again;
I'm alone in our chilly den.
I pour myself a little drink,
And try my hardest not to think.
Something a little different today: Santa Monica lines.
Here be the idear: the first poem (mine) uses the first line of the Everclear song as its first line; the second poem uses the second line of the song as its first line; the third uses the third as its first, and so on.
There are some great lines throughout the song that I think would work great as first lines. Let us see how far we get.
Mine:
I am still living with your ghost,
In the night I see you the most.
When sleep won't come I walk these halls;
I hear your voice within these walls.
I search for you from room to room,
Not fearful of this homely tomb -
Only eager to see your face,
To meet the eyes that made hearts race.
You always wait at the table,
Like a princess from a fable.
We talk until the sun does rise,
Then you wipe dry my tearful eyes.
And just like that you're gone again;
I'm alone in our chilly den.
I pour myself a little drink,
And try my hardest not to think.
Saturday August 22nd, 2009
The exercise:
For as long as I've listened to music I've always seemed to pay more attention to the lyrics than most people I know. If I thought the words accompanying the awesome instrumentals were stupid or annoying, I hated the song. There was just no getting around it.
With that in mind, this week's Four Line Poem Saturday exercise is pulling inspiration from one of my (current) favorite songs, both instrumentally and, more importantly, lyrically.
So go ahead and listen to Respiration by Mos Def, Talib Kweli, and Common and choose just one line to base your poem on. Here's a link to the lyrics to help you out (accuracy not guaranteed, but it seems to be pretty good).
Mine:
Hard knuckles on the second hands of working class watches
Step through the door and time slows to a crawl
I do what the Man says and give it my all
No promotion this year, same as before
But maybe next year, if my health I ignore
For as long as I've listened to music I've always seemed to pay more attention to the lyrics than most people I know. If I thought the words accompanying the awesome instrumentals were stupid or annoying, I hated the song. There was just no getting around it.
With that in mind, this week's Four Line Poem Saturday exercise is pulling inspiration from one of my (current) favorite songs, both instrumentally and, more importantly, lyrically.
So go ahead and listen to Respiration by Mos Def, Talib Kweli, and Common and choose just one line to base your poem on. Here's a link to the lyrics to help you out (accuracy not guaranteed, but it seems to be pretty good).
Mine:
Hard knuckles on the second hands of working class watches
Step through the door and time slows to a crawl
I do what the Man says and give it my all
No promotion this year, same as before
But maybe next year, if my health I ignore
Friday June 5th, 2009
The exercise:
The topic for this edition of Four Line Friday Prose is: they're playing our song.
It appears that this coming Tuesday will mark one year in the life of Daily Writing Practice. I shall have to do something at least a little bit special for it.
Mine:
A gentle breeze plays with your hair in ways my fingers no longer can. The candlelight caresses your glowing cheeks, traces your angelic outline, as I did many years before. The radio begins to play our song and you can't stop yourself from tapping your foot on the hardwood floor, keeping the beat as perfectly as ever.
I would ask you to dance but I know you have already danced with too many of my ghosts these last few years.
The topic for this edition of Four Line Friday Prose is: they're playing our song.
It appears that this coming Tuesday will mark one year in the life of Daily Writing Practice. I shall have to do something at least a little bit special for it.
Mine:
A gentle breeze plays with your hair in ways my fingers no longer can. The candlelight caresses your glowing cheeks, traces your angelic outline, as I did many years before. The radio begins to play our song and you can't stop yourself from tapping your foot on the hardwood floor, keeping the beat as perfectly as ever.
I would ask you to dance but I know you have already danced with too many of my ghosts these last few years.
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