#thepoeming2016

Treated as part of the scenery,

her attitude was that of a woman

waiting to wake up, conscious enough

to know time's a wasting, waiting

for you to drop the other shoe.

Sources: King, Stephen writing as Bachman, Richard. The Running Man. First Pocket Books Paperback ed. New York: New York, 2016. 133, 253, 260, 304, 339.  Print.

Things ended in fall, the season

to lose some, no matter how much

or how little. Stopped by differences,

growth, one outdistanced the divisions,

expanded to leave behind the waste,

the arbitrary circumstances—a spent star

unable to exist in the same position again.

Sources: King, Stephen writing as Bachman, Richard. The Running Man. First Pocket Books Paperback ed. New York: New York, 2016. 261. Print.

Webster's New World College Dictionary, 4th ed. Cleveland, Ohio, 2002. Print.

Process: I used the “definitional” prompt from Oulipost in which a sentence is chosen (in this case “Things ended in fall”) for which verbs, nouns, and adjectives are replaced with their definition, and the process is repeated again for the resulting sentence with the total product being a word bank. I started the poem with the original sentence and wrote the rest from words and phrases found during the process.

From Stephen King’s Black House, Chapter 29.

Piss, puke, or pass out: 

do this by telling a very simple story

little words

And what are those words?

From Stephen King’s Black House, Chapter 30

That can’t be a dragon

No way

Did you want some of this

edge of madness?

From Stephen King’s Black House, Chapter 29. 

Bulging vampire teeth

designed to keep out unwanted guests

very large 

so big

From Stephen King’s Black House, Chapter 28.

OZ POEM

anymore, Toto,

maybe you didn’t notice

a sky that has gone white and

a peal of maniacal laughter and

the flickering shapes in the trees

Perhaps it’s              imagination.

From Stephen King’s Black House, Chapter 25.

Oh forget about that

to fart at a prayer meeting

her eyes look like bullet holes

swirls and scoops of blood

like a fishhook in his mind

From Stephen King’s Black House, Chapter 26.

FRAT HOUSE POEM: 

Camelot and Avalon

like Hill House

like Rose Red

crouching, leaning

oddly banal

The boy is safe

The boy must be

the boy before

an extremely unpleasant idea: 

I can make you a bromise: 

The Brew Crew