Retroflexed Triflections: A Summer Of Poetry Blog Challenges In Three Parts

by Steve Lavigne

  white american extremists

  hiding in our midst

  must be monitored, observed –

  his circling, lazy droning flight

  just waiting for the order,

  for just the right moment to strike

  these terrorists so much like himself.

  (Use the Third definition of the word Flight in a poem - responses must be between 33 and 333 words)

  Normal

  Normal,

  the nurse’s verdict,

  velcro ripping like a gunshot

  in the newly quiet space.

  Normal,

  her obligatory checklist -

  stabbing pains and excessive bleeding

  to be reported

  immediately.

  Normal,

  the hour long wait with numerous

  normal magazines

  and your normal friend accompanying you -

  the helpless look in your ride’s eyes

  telling you

  that everything will be back

  to normal soon -

  work in the morning

  and no worries -

  it was the right decision,

  just the wrong time.

  So normal

  they keep telling you,

  at night

  your hand resting on your belly

  an aching little need still

  fluttering quickly

  under your fingers

  like a heart beat

  inside of

  you.

  (Use the Third definition of the word Normal in a poem - responses must be between 33 and 333 words)

  She realized early on

  that the weight

  of the old white bearded sky god

  lifted

  exponentially

  as the size of her breasts

  swelled

  so that

  when cornered by cancer

  in mid age

  she was not afraid

  to experiment

  with non-being

  in spite of the kind

  warnings

  from friends

  and slowly,

  she learned to accept

  the beings here

  and the thought of beings

  not here

  in the soon

  hereafter

  to come

  so that

  when the fatal announcement

  came down

  that the world was scheduled for demolition

  in three days time,

  she vacuumed just as she had

  always planned

  comforted that the dull pang

  in her belly

  was a clear sign

  that the world had always been

  three days away

  from total destruction -

  the only difference

  now being

  she felt each thrum and boom

  of the cuckoo and grandfather

  clocks

  once only heard

  during the unexpected

  visits

  of curious

  strangers.

  Give us 33-333 words with this as your inspiration:

  The world will end in three days.

  The Score

  The score etched

  in cuneiform plates

  was a solid representation

  between them

  of how much, how many

  and how far.

  The itinerant passerby

  who stopped to watch

  their interaction

  wrote down his impressions

  of who, what and where

  and passed it on to his friends,

  themselves

  itinerant second hand visitors.

  Another looked on

  long after the others had left,

  broken red plates

  jutting from the ground like teeth,

  and feeling

  as if he was missing something

  important

  sketched page after page

  to a vague someone, somewhere

  asking

  over and over again

  why, why, why.

  (Use the Third definition of the word Score in a poem - responses must be between 33 and 333 words)

  this soap bubble, glass ball

  earth

  photoshopped

  in the palm of my imagination

  held too

  tightly

  and we lose the gravity

  of our reality

  held too

  loosely

  and we float in the darkness

  one errant curse

  as we fall

  shattered

  into a million, million

  unreachable

  stars

  Write a 33-333 word response to the song featured below-

  The Smashing Pumpkins - 33

  With This Vorpal Blade

  they snicker-snack cackled round Macbeth’s old cauldron –

  a father, a son and a holy ghoul -

  or was it ad exec, disc jockey and

  preacher man -

  and I longed for them to tell you the 3 little words,

  those 3 magic words –

  I love you. I love you, I love you –

  but I didn’t want to seem the fool,

  a 3 in 1 tool for you to use

  as you seamed, sawed or hammered

  fit

  this foil

  rapt package wrapt in a plastic

  wrapped in a cardboard tube

  full of frabjous

  excuses –

  and

  in just such a place

  as this

  what I tell you three times is true. –

  one with my pen,

  two with my ruby slippered lips,

  and three with a charm,

  ready or not,

  you only marry, fall in love,

  and find your soul mate

  once,

  as they say,

  and

  I do,

  do you,

  for real,

  could it ever

  be true?

  Write a 33-333 word response to the following quote: “What I tell you three times is true.” by Lewis Carroll.

  without you

  this tribe of strangers,

  family and friends

  with no concept

  of my blue

  lie

  and say yes

  we see what you're

  going through,

  the tips of their trees

  blending seamlessly

  with clear, open skies -

  but this blue

  of mine,

  of us - once so many

  shifting moods,

  once a ring,

  a bearing shared

  together

  but you,

  you stepped through

  first

  and how do I cross

  this infinite space

  between us.

  (Use the Third definition of the word Blue in a poem - responses must be between 33 and 333 words)

  The narrow back alley

  of their relationship

  with no one way signs or

  dividing lines

  is all foot traffic, hustle and

  busyness delivering the goods,

  taking out the trash and emptying

  grease traps while

  gray spotted aprons

  lounge

  murmuring

  on smoke break -

  they hurry past the

  competing

  and steeping stale

  dumpster water

  and fresh baked bread

  smells

  greeting each other

  with salaried smiles

  ready to open up

  for the day


  thinking

  this store front,

  this back alley reality

  that we have created-

  which is facade

  and which is truth-

  both

  they wonder,

  neither

  they hope

  and each day

  decide

  (Use the Third definition of the word Alley in a poem - responses must be between 33 and 333 words)

  Two

  motherless

  the great chocolate

  whore

  of babylon

  and his oompaloompa horde

  ride their psychedelic ships

  home

  to our harbor

  and we are all

  one

  golden ticket

  short

  of redemption,

  indentured servants

  to his cause

  "We're asking you to retell your favorite book. In 33 words."

  "3 Wishes"

  Wish

  wish wish

  like a heart

  in the dark

  of your mind

  beating

  Wish

  wish wish

  chest

  bared

  in the pit

  screaming

  sharpened pendulum

  descending

  swinging

  Wish

  wish wish

  you’ll see her

  nevermore

  The Monkey's Paw, a short story by W.W. Jacobs, is about the strings that come with granted wishes. We are asking you to write 33 words exactly about three wishes that come at a high price to the wisher.

  On the count of three

  you were

  always

  spinning free

  neither tree

  nor what you should be,

  a helicopter seed

  all motion,

  letting go,

  so difficult

  to know

  my direction,

  whether my feet

  were planted

  in the

  ground

  This weekend we are challenging you to write 33 of your own words to build upon the following: On the count of three...You can choose to include those words if you want, but they do not count toward the 33 words of your own.

  Bills,

  clippings,

  yellowing photographs,

  thickening scabs covering

  walls,

  she wonders

  what wound, what hideous scars

  lie

  underneath

  this buckling façade,

  is this all

  there is

  holding her up,

  keeping her

  from

  the

  downpour.

  Here are some photos to inspire you. Choose one and give us a metaphor or simile to help describe what you see – (walls of an outdoor room covered in stapled, taped paper, etc.) Make your analogy 33 words or less

  Broken butterfly

  Wings

  mere struts,

  Leonardo's

  bat wings

  minus

  canvas,

  bulbous eyes

  searching,

  turning

  as I reach

  to take it

  home?

  stomp a quick

  death?

  leave the hopeless spark

  fluttering?

  I question

  all

  my

  answers.

  Describe something that is three different things at the same time. Oh, and do it in 33 words.

  Sevenling (in 33 words)

  So many years,

  so many miles,

  this patina of indifference separating us.

  Father, how frail,

  how like grandfather.

  When did you get old?

  Not father, I realize, my brother staring back at me.

  The Rule of Three is a writing principle that asserts that, in writing, groups of three have the most impact. This week's challenge is to write 33 words using the Rule of Three somewhere among them.

  Grasping

  the last strains,

  every available point

  there ever was

  or could be,

  wondering if this was all,

  she slid her fingertips

  along the glass,

  lingered in the corners

  of sunlight,

  of refraction.

  For this weekend's challenge, we'd like you to read the 33 words below and then add 33 of your own words to move the story along.

  The last strains of sunlight lingered in the corners, grasping every available point of refraction. She slid her fingertips along the glass wondering if this was all there ever was. Or could be.

  In three words

  I can sum up

  everything

  I've learned about

  kissing -

  Keep

  It

  Simple...

  Robert Frost one said, "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." We want you to do the same. Sum up anything you want, but do it in three words. Your response should mirror Frost's quote by beginning, "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about--." And the last four words are yours to choose.

  Jesus

  Jesus, a man like Zarathustra and Buddha,

  a story born to bear the world’s heavy burden

  Jesus, a curse flowing like a wound

  from your lips

  Jesus, the gardener who married

  your daughter

  Noted blues musician, Lead Belly, was quoted in Three Uses of the Knife by David Mamet as saying:

  You take a knife, you use it to cut the bread, so you'll have strength to work; you use it to shave, so you'll look nice for your lover; on discovering her with another, you use it to cut out her lying heart.

  He uses one object, a knife, to flesh out a character and to tell a story in a basic three-part dramatic structure. We want the same from you. Give us 33 words (exactly) that tell us three different uses for one object.

  A fabulist's contract

  The talking gecko and quacking duck

  insisted

  their contract protected him

  before and after

  any accident -

  too late

  the man realized

  slowly sliding

  down

  the cliff face

  was when he really

  needed help.

  Tell us an original fable in exactly 33 words.

  Trifecta: The Novel

  It was a hard, roof rumbling, loose pane rattling dark and stormy night;

  his one small flickering light casting shadows -

  an obsessive need to write in a mad, mad word counting world.

  "We want to play on an oft-noted literary concept: that of the opening line of a book (also known as an incipit, if you're fancy) ... give us a 33-word opening line to your book."

  Riding this chain clanking

  rickety Ferris

  wheel

  skyward,

  a cresting

  carnival cacophony

  tumbling away

  backwards

  your stomach dropping, hands grasping

  falling with this girl

  one small awkward

  reaching

  step

  to hold

  her

  hand

  "In celebration of Moon Day we want you to write 33 words about someone who took a giant leap."

  Daughter

 

  This gray runway

  and rusting, silver river

  snaking its slow way

  to unfettered

  horizons –

  how long and at what great speed -
/>
  lift off -

  your sudden leaping

  past the moon of us

  and childhood?

  "Please give us a creative piece inspired by the photo below. (Picture of a girl and cow separated by metal railing on a paved road) You have two options for word count: you can either give us 33 words or 333 words."

  Three

  Her world, a helicopter seed spinning

  under his fingers,

  a piano playing

  for an hour

  on the radio

  and she is all motion

  and letting go with the gravity

  of his notes

  telling her

  she is beautiful,

  desirable, attractive,

  everything she ever wanted to be

  just the way she is –

  Sandra, some of us have been plugging that meter

  all our lives for a second

  of bliss here,

  that special remembered year

  with two minutes of bliss

  there,

  this spinning free

  neither tree

  nor what you should be

  and I still feel your fingers

  from last night,

  your poem, the world

  a helicopter seed spinning

  making it hard to see

  where I am going,

  where my feet are planted

  in the ground.

  For this week’s poetry prompt, I want you to take one of the following lines and make it the first line of your poem. Feel free to take liberties with these openings.

  “The world, a helicopter seed spinning”

  Bliss

  Marcus said

  this then is

  bliss

  the knowing

  that whatever comes

  comes from the same source,

  the same fountain as us

  and, oh

  how we fling ourselves

  out into space

  for one exulting instant

  declaring gods, monsters

  and eternities all within our

  reach

  until gravity

  takes hold

  and we fall

  one drop among

  many -

  our one small shout

  lost

  in a resounding torrent of

  bliss, bliss, bliss

  Write a poem that reveals bliss

  t-shirt

  Worn holey

  and wholly faded,

  a holy shrine

  of your college days -

  it's a thick skin of buddies

  and gals and easy booze

  unraveling,

  what your spouse