I found a journal from way before... talk about a time machine!
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 Canadian Spring |
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NAPOWRIMO Prompt: Write a poem based on a “walking archive.” What’s that? Well, it’s when you go on a walk and gather up interesting thing – a flower, a strange piece of bark, a rock. This then becomes your “walking archive” – the physical instantiation of your walk. If you’re unable to get out of the house (as many of us now are), you can create a “walking archive” by wandering around your own home and gathering knick-knacks, family photos, maybe a strange spice or kitchen gadget you never use. One you’ve finished your gathering, lay all your materials out on a tray table, like museum specimens. Now, let your group of materials inspire your poem! You can write about just one of the things you’ve gathered, or how all of them are all linked, or even what they say about you, who chose them and brought them together....
I walked by the crick and back home up my street and snapped some pics. Then I photoplayed and created a wee scene...
I walked by the crick and back home up my street and snapped some pics. Then I photoplayed and created a wee scene...
A Drunken Tale (At the Local Watering Hole)
Wise turtle tells me tall tales of ye old Captain Fundas
who’s quite known for his specific brand spitfire sass.
He lives at his lighthouse, never raising his brows
when the fish fan outwards, away from the birdy buzzards,
for frisky frolics further upstream. Was it all but a dream....
in a little fishing town, a little further down
than that other nifty place, where I saw your pretty face?
(conceived April 24, 2020, recrafted and finalized April 25, 2020)
It’s a nonsense poem, not really saying anything,
But it’s whimsical
And quirky perky:)
who’s quite known for his specific brand spitfire sass.
He lives at his lighthouse, never raising his brows
when the fish fan outwards, away from the birdy buzzards,
for frisky frolics further upstream. Was it all but a dream....
in a little fishing town, a little further down
than that other nifty place, where I saw your pretty face?
(conceived April 24, 2020, recrafted and finalized April 25, 2020)
It’s a nonsense poem, not really saying anything,
But it’s whimsical
And quirky perky:)
An Ode to Life’s Small Treasures;
Grandiose Unrealized Pleasures
6:30 am, the arse crack of dawn,
a time for the devil’s spawn,
or so I had thought...
I never knew such beautiful skies! I kid you not!
Opulent pearly pink, incandescent sky,
sultry shades of sorbet sashay.
Bloomy roars, reverberating cheery encouragements.
Optimistic rosy glow, vibrantly voicing hope,
radiating a golden orb of fiery faith in rocky times,
peeking out from the sinister buzzkill clouds;
Glorious red and yellow blazing, entwining flames of citrus
in sky mirrors, topsy turvy glassy reflections make me tipsy.
(Ideas/working out of ideas April 24, 2020, Written and fine-tuned April 25, 2020)
Grandiose Unrealized Pleasures
6:30 am, the arse crack of dawn,
a time for the devil’s spawn,
or so I had thought...
I never knew such beautiful skies! I kid you not!
Opulent pearly pink, incandescent sky,
sultry shades of sorbet sashay.
Bloomy roars, reverberating cheery encouragements.
Optimistic rosy glow, vibrantly voicing hope,
radiating a golden orb of fiery faith in rocky times,
peeking out from the sinister buzzkill clouds;
Glorious red and yellow blazing, entwining flames of citrus
in sky mirrors, topsy turvy glassy reflections make me tipsy.
(Ideas/working out of ideas April 24, 2020, Written and fine-tuned April 25, 2020)
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Prompt: write a poem that features forgotten technology
CDs Remastered; Compact Discs Rememembered
| Like 8 tracks and cassettes, CDs 💿 are almost obsolete technologies, Just ask Sam the record man Those shiny, silver discs once dazzled me with magic, Or, if you’re more scientifically inclined - a semi conductor laser wrote and read music that enticed my ears and affected my life. That’s the magic of the mix cd. Now, I’m left with a museum of mementos; thousands of sparkling memories in the mixes of youth. Unhelpful titles scrawled across in my 13, 17, 21 year old handwriting, Relics representing events and feelings of ‘the best days of our lives’- not!
 | Long since forgotten what the titles mean; they used to mean the world. Now, a total surprise and a complete mystery you don’t solve until you slide that cd into the player... Wait for her to load ..... and let loose all wild a n d f r e e. On the open road, you suddenly give nod to the equivalent of a stuck record needle, or the crumbling mess of cassette tapes, or a streaming stuckness. Going digital is the loss of the craft. It doesn’t have that certain slant of light; It’s just data and it’s invisible, all up in a cloud somewhere. With all the space in the world, you can add or delete songs on a whim. We used to slave over our latest creation. Couldn’t wait for all the appreciation Everybody wang-ed, everybody chung-ed Everybody had fun tonight Finite selections - 80 minutes, 18 or 19, 20 songs max - Gotta be selective, You had to pick and choose Keep a specific theme or mood Order mattered - Let’s face it, No one knew how to work the shuffle on those awkward clunky Discmans anyway! - You had to be certain. Once burned, burned forever! Oh, and, Never in the right case at the right time; Chasing the perfect song, Hunting for happiness and happy surprises. That’s the magic of the mix cd. (April 23, 2020) |
Today is a great day to create a great day.
This site is my attempt at gathering all of my creativity that I have strewn about out 'there'....
© Nicola Schneider, iCreate, 2000-present. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicola Schneider with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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