The exercise:
Your prompt for today: survival instincts.
Yeah, I might be getting a little inspiration from The Hunger Games. That story is certainly sticking with me; I'm going to have to pick up the next one soon.
Mine:
Anyone that knows you at all
Can only shake their head in awe,
As we all know that your dinners
Consist of chicken, bleeding raw.
You like it when the crocodiles
Eat their lunch right out of your hand,
And that a visit from lions
Would just be absolutely grand.
I once saw you play with matches
In a cardboard box factory;
You've tried dragging me to Walmart
For a Black Friday shopping spree.
On Sundays you stroll on the lake,
Though you can hear the ice cracking.
I think it's time to admit: your
Survival instincts are lacking.
8 comments:
Hah, that's not a case of lacking survival instincts, that's just a healthy, active death-wish! I like the notions of crocodiles eating out of your narrator's hand, and walking out on the lake to hear ice cracking, I'd do that... erm.
I think you wrote that poem as a performance piece, as the scansion goes a little wonky around the third stanza unless I listen to it being performed in my head :)
Survival Instincts
Second guessing the electrician,
Unravelling wires in the walls.
Rats running over your fingers -
Vicious little eyes and claws.
Inserting the brand new cables,
Video, audio and the one that's strange,
Aware that something's not quite right and
Laughing at the shooting pains.
Identifying the live wires,
Never turning the power off,
Someone's got a death-wish (and
Tuberculosis. Cough. Cough.)
Installed, the entertainment centre
Now brings you much delight.
Couch-potato heaven –
Though your wheel-chair's not quite right.
Survival's only for the fittest.
What is it that creates survival instinct?
When baby puts everything into his mouth,
is it just Freudian
or a chance it might just be edible?
Cry for hunger
cry for thirst,
little one cry for comfort,
a cuddle, security,
all for bonding, to survive another day,
a year or many,
cry to be heard and tended to,
cry to preserve our species, do.
Funny how everyone got a poem... Is there something that I'm missing? Oh well her's my short entry brought to you by my crazy Adrenal Junkie, nympho Rachael.
Survivial Instincts
"Rachael," Rohdny shook his head as she sung her legs to the floor. "How in the world is it that you're still alive?"
Grinning she pulled on her ship suit, but she didn't answer until she was at the door. "Survivial Instincts."
She ducked and rolled as a smoke bomb came wizzing past.
Survival Instinct : Maturity
They say I have a disability
Because I have problems with mobility
But I think they just have an inability
To see me as more than a liability
Yes, the disease is process is atrocious
Its attacks on my body are ferocious
And if you find me some what precocious
It’s because I’m living with Avascular Necrosis
It's OK...I'm not really this bitter.
There are a set of behaviours,
We've all seen.
Lying,
Cheating,
screw your friends
and belittle your neighbours.
Bully those you can
and tear down those you can't.
Stir up hate,
and put down love.
Sell your soul
and ease your conscience.
Get yours
and take theirs.
When we see it
we label it clearly.
In politics,
they call it
“Survival Instincts.”
Greg - fantastic poem. Love the wheelchair line :)
Writebite - absolutely lovely.
Cathryn - the sudden appearance of the smoke bomb was a great touch :)
Krystin - that is one nasty disease. I'm impressed you managed to work it into a poem so smoothly though.
GZ - well, if you were, I wouldn't blame you :)
@Marc, You know what they say write what you know. =? Appreciate the comment as always =)
Since you know so much more then me about poetry, is having every line rhyme like that "allowed", if so what's it called. It reminds me of Dr, Suess.
Krystin - I've never been convinced that any rhyme choice shouldn't be allowed. Also, I'm pretty sure I've done that myself on a few occasions.
Not sure what it would be called, though pretty much every rhyme scheme seems to have a name. 'Suessian' works for me :D
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