Thursday, August 21, 2008

We Have a Winner!

Congratulations to Yvonne Wright for her outstanding achievement! Yvonne, you've won an all expense paid trip for two to Jamaica! (You must be married to qualify). In the event you didn 't qualify for the trip, you will be awarded a Dr. Pepper as a consolation prize, and a kitten.

Thank you one and all for your outstanding efforts and terrific entries. Here's how it all breaks down:
A Sarah
B Alison
C Anonymous
D Will
E Will (I entered twice, but I didn't win.)
F Yvonne
G David
H Daniel

Thank you for allowing me to host this event, and I look forward to the next time we lock in battle.

Tune in next week, where I will post another short story. Until then, may the bird of paradise...

Monday, August 18, 2008

Battle Poet: Iron Crib

Let the games begin!
The entries are as follows:

Entry A
The sun shines through my window
And lands upon my desk.
It creeps along the floor
And up my treasure chest.
It shines upon a picture
Hanging on my wall,
Then it goes away
As if it weren’t there at all.

Entry B
Blippety bloopety blave
The mouse hid in a dark cave
Then - jiminy! Drat!
The cave was Tom Cat!
So a kick to Tom's tonsils he gave

Entry C
I journeyed from the Land of Zonder
To walk barefoot in the grass
But when I tried to pick a rose
I found that I’d walked past

Entry D
Pop Corn! Yelled the vender
From across the isle
But when I tried to eat it up
It was empty all the while

Entry E
Sparkle, sparkle, firework show
Sending sparkles tally ho!
Spatter, spatter, raindrops clatter
Sending children running home.

Entry F
Tiny faces with perched up lips
These are the kisses I like the best
Beautiful hands and tinny tiny feet
To hold each other, a savored memory I will forever keep
Twinkling eyes that look up so dear
Beautiful giggles I live for to hear
No expectations, no worries at all
Always trusting in me to soften their fall
Dreaming together and watching clouds
Their orneriness and creativity make me proud
From my womb to life, a love so deep
These are the miracles that really make me think


Entry G
There’s a bear in our church,
No one knows why he’s there,
He was spotted this morning,
You could see his black hair.
He scared all the kids,
As he ran down the hall,
They heard his loud growl,
And saw his large paws.
When no one’s around,
He plays the guitar,
He loves to eat salmon,
Smokes smelly cigars.
It turns out he’s friendly,
And really quite shy,
Wait, he’s not a bear,
Just a romance writer guy!

Entry H
A long time ago in a faraway land
There lived a princess who loved just one man

Although she was sweet and although she was kind
There were bad people who had foul things in mind

The bad people had plans and oh how they tried
To start a war with the neighbors they despised

They kidnapped the princess - on her engagement day no less
And were going to kill her (as Alison would guess)

Lucky for her, there was a swordsman so fine
That if he were smarter, the situation he could define

His friend was a kind giant (most of the time)
Who had a big heart and the gift of the rhyme

These 2 were the captors of the beautiful girl
Led by a man so vile your stomach would curl

Up the Cliffs of Insanity they started to climb
But a man in black was following and gaining time

(No this man in black was not Will Smith
That’s another story that is shrouded in myth)

He fought the swordsman to the end in an epic battle
Worthy of any tale that can be told with much prattle

Then he continued his chase after the maiden so fair
And found himself in a clash with the larger of the pair

The man in black finally knocked the giant out cold
When he forced him to submission with his excellent choke hold

The Sicilian who kidnapped her was all that was left
And the man in black wanted to stop him from this horrible theft

This man was her true love - a farm boy thought gone
That had not been seen for 5 years this dawn

He beat the Sicilian with a powder from Australia
By putting it into the drinking paraphernalia

But the story does not end here – it’s not time to cheer
There’s a twist in this plot that is quite queer

You see the man in black that she loved was not the prince
She thought him dead and was engaged in recent times since

Suffice it to say this made things quite bad
For the 2 people and the love that they had

In order to save space (and 2 hours to deadline)
We’ll condense the rest to one major headline

The swordsman and giant helped the man in black
To thwart the prince and find their love back

The problem I have is that I lied this day –
This made the maiden not a princess in any way

So the crux of my story is sad indeed
If you lie in your opening – the victory you concede

Let this be a lesson to all that have read
And try to listen to all that I have said

If you want to write a nursery rhyme and you are lost
It’s better to give up no matter the cost

For the embarrassment you get for doing so bad
Is much greater than the small enjoyment you had

I guess this rhyme does have a moral
Don’t enter into other people’s poem quarrel.

Please vote on the left using the poll buttons. I will hold the polls open until Thursday at 0800 (MST). May God defend the right.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Last Call

Calling all poets, calling all poets
You must submit your entries by Sunday at midnight.

I say again,

Calling all poets, calling all poets
You must submit your entries by Sunday at midnight.

Please email your entries to:
traviswinman@yahoo.com

That is all.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Nursery Rhymes--A Crash Course

Nursery Rhymes have delighted our ears for centuries. While most of the verses have lost their meaning throughout the generations, some still have a meaning that is surprisingly dark.

According to answers.com, “Little Jack Horner” is a “popular nursery rhyme, still in circulation after 200 years. The first known printing dates from 1725, but the rhyme was taken up by the chapbook publishers and incorporated into a much longer rhyming tale entitled ‘The History of Jack Horner’ printed a number of times later in the 18th century. A 19th-century explanation of the story claims that it celebrates one Tom Horner who was steward to Richard Whiting, Abbot of Glastonbury, at the time of the Dissolution. Whiting entrusted Horner with a pie in which title deeds had been secreted to be delivered to Henry VIII. As in the rhyme, Horner opened the pie and thus became a major landowner.”

Another classic favorite has an unexpected past. According to snopes.com, the seemingly innocent Sing A Song of Sixpence has dark and brooding written all over it, as it represents a coded message to recruit hands aboard a pirate ship. To learn more about how the verses are broken down and explained, see: http://www.snopes.com/lost/sixpence.asp
To be fair, some of the research I found revealed that several people disagree with snopes and claim that the song is simply silly.

Askyahoo.com describes the origins of a few rhymes as “The provenance of many rhymes is interesting enough without resorting to sensational interpretation. Wikipedia calls "plausible," for instance, the theory that Pop Goes the Weasel tells a tale of silk weavers peddling their equipment to pawnbrokers for drinking money. This NPR story explains that in the language of Henry VIII's time, Goosey Goosey Gander associates the Catholic Church with prostitution. As for "Sing a Song of Sixpence," it tells the story of Henry VIII's ill-fated marriage to Anne Boleyn. And a complicated set of references in Yankee Doodle really just boils down to trash-talking between the British and Americans during the Revolutionary War.”

The Ring Around the Rosie verse is clouded in great distress. According to tradition, the poem tells about the Great Plague of the 1300’s in Europe, saying the “ring around the rosie describes the rash of the beginning stages of the disease. The posies refer to the flowers people kept in their pockets hoping it would protect them. The “ashes” imitates the sound of sneezing, and then they all fall down dead. However, Snopes discounts this account saying the rhyme has no definite origin and it has no definite meaning.

On the information about nursery rhymes website: http://nurseryrhymes.allinfoabout.com/Hey_diddle_diddle.php
“I found the following account about Hey Diddle Diddle. This old nonsense rhyme is probably just that - nonsense, however some people have suggested that the cat is Elizabeth Ist and the dog is Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester who she once referred to as her 'lap dog.' Hey Diddle Diddle was a new dance accompanied by a fiddle according to a play written by Thomas preston in 1569. Michelle Cheng kindly contacted me with the theory that the characters in this rhyme are actually constellations of stars, and the line, 'the dish ran away with the spoon' relates to the stars disappearing over the horizon.”

Regardless of how they came to be, nursery rhymes are fun and should be counted as a literary treasure for the generations yet to come. Whether you choose to make yours political, nonsensical, or historical, I wish you the best of luck. If you need my email address, I can be reached at traviswinman@yahoo.com I will accept your submissions until Sunday at midnight. After that, the dish will run away with the spoon and it will be
Diddle diddle dumpling for you.

Monday, August 11, 2008

And the Winner Is...

The polls are now closed and we are locked in a 12 way tie. Remarkable isn't it? I am now ready to exercise my presidential powers and vote the tie breaker.

It is my privilege to announce that our poems will be......

Drum roll, please,

Nursery Rhymes.

Hold your applause until the rules are read, please.

Here are the rules:
- One entry per person
- Anyone can enter (the more the merrier)
- No limit on size, scope, or form (doesn't have to rhyme), as long as it's a poem
- Title is your choice as long as it is a nursery rhyme that is original and written by you
- Entries due by midnight Sunday, August 16th
- Entries will be posted on Monday, voting will be by a poll I'll create...honor system that you vote only once. You can vote for yourself.
- Entries will be posted with no names attached, just labeled something like Poem A, etc.

I recommend you read a few "Mother Goose" poems for some inspiration.

Tomorrow I'll post a short history of nursery rhymes--it might surprise you a little to know how there little gems came to be, which might give you some insight on how to approach writing a little ditty.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Poem-Off Part Deux

Poem-Off Round Two


Following up the success of my peer and fellow blogger, the ever so lively Alison (you can find a link to her site, Hmmm, on the left), I have been selected as the host of the next Poem-Off. I appreciate being considered as a host and I intend to make the contest as enjoyable as it can possibly be. Below, I’ve chosen 6 possible titles for you to consider. If selected, that title will be imposed on the poet as the only acceptable title. On Monday, I will announce the winning title and we will begin the process of preparing our works of profound impact.

1. The Smoking Loon
2. Bubble Bath Bonanza
3. Practically Perfect Pumpkin Pastries
4. Nursery Rhyme (Any nursery rhyme such as Jack and Jill or Old King Cole, except it is a new creation by you.)
5. Pony Express
6. Mountain Majesty (For those of you who don’t enjoy overt humor and prefer a more dignified poetic expression.)

For more clarification on the Nursery Rhyme choice, let me explain what I’m envisioning. Several years ago, I wrote a series of nursery rhymes for my kids called the Silly Sissy Poems. I’ll give you an example:

Little Silly Sissy
Ate a melon whole
But when she tried to spit the seeds,
She couldn’t find a bowl

And one other:

Little Silly Sissy
Lit a candle blue
And when she tried to blow it out
She dropped it in her shoe.

These are great fun and kids love them.

Please take a moment to vote on your title of choice. You don’t have to be a contestant to vote. In fact, that might make for a more interesting contest if the poets can’t vote, but I’m not willing to consider that option!

To witness the last Poem-Off Battle Circus event, follow this link:
http://alisonb1974.blogspot.com/2008/07/iron-poet-battle-circus.html

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The Remedy

Here's a fairly new one for me. As you might recognize, the scenario my character faces is an age old dilemma. The other day, I was teaching a course on ethics and we discussed a scenario very similar to this story line. To my amazement, 38 out of 40 individuals readily accepted they would compromise their standards under similar conditions. I would like to hear your thoughts on this topic and I hope this story challenges you.
Thanks,
TWI

The Remedy

In the still, cold hours of a predawn morning, Chris Chance ground his teeth in dissent to the agony pulsing through his veins. His eyes were crystalline, his forehead wrinkled from too many frowns. The crow’s feet which adorned his face were all too familiar.

He stood in the shadow underneath an extinguished lamp post, whose light had since yielded its source months before. He was dressed in a leather jacket and slacks, his boots were polished but worn. The hat he wore shrouded his eyes from any who would bother to notice him. He had not moved except to fidget in place, his legs ached from endless hours of standing motionless.

His keen eyes observed movement from the shadow near a dark street corner, and he watched as a man dressed in shadows stoically approached him. They each regarded the other in silence for the length of a minute before the man queried, “Have you decided?”

Chris faced away from the man to spit before responding. “I’m almost there.”

“You’re there. You just haven’t accepted it yet.”

His lips curled in anger. “Yeah? What do you know about it?”

“I know plenty. I’ve seen this before you know. You’re not the first one to stand underneath this lamp.”

“You don’t know me,” Chris said with disdain.

A soft chuckle. “Oh? I don’t know, you think you’re the only one who’s ever had to make hard decisions?”

Chris growled. “Look, Pal, you don’t know me, and you’re not going to know me, so mind your own P’s and Q’s or I’ll find a way to mind them for you.”

“Touchy, touchy. Aren’t you full of vinegar tonight?”

“Yeah? You wanna make something of it?”

“Easy does it, tough guy. You’ve got plenty of people to fight without putting me on your hit list.”

“Then back off and cut your meddlin’.”

The stranger paused. “Well? What’s it going to be? I’ve got other fish on the line who need reeling in. I can’t spend all night with you.”

“You’ll wait. When I decide you’ll be the first to know.”

The stranger tugged at his sleeve. “I have a few minutes to invest. What’s the hold up?”
Chris didn’t respond.
“I see,” the man probed. “You’ve never lived on this edge before. You’re a nice guy.”

“Yeah? And what of it?”

“Oh, just an observation. That’s all. You are clearly not the type of man who keeps the shadows company. You’ve never gotten your hands dirty.” He allowed his words to register before continuing. “So, what’s the issue?”

“None of your concern,” Chris replied tersely.

“Hmmm. Must be money,” he mused. “Is that your purpose here? Is it money?” The voice was taunting him.

“I could care less about money. What I want can’t be bought.”

“Is it for sale?”

“What did I just say? It ain’t for sale.”

“Maybe it’s a woman. Is that your game? Are you looking for some action?”

A hard edge tore through Chris’ response. “I have no interest in other women.”

“Other women?” he questioned. “Ah, I get it. You’re here for the medicine.”

Chris spat again. “And what if I am?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t care what you want, because it makes no matter to me. All I need from you is a decision.”

“You’ll get it once I’ve got it.”

The stranger laughed. “Still playing that game, are you? In your heart you’ve already decided what you’re going to do. You simply need to tell yourself it’s okay.” Chris had no response. “So, how bad is she?”

“Bad enough.”

“For how long?”

Chris paused. “Four years. She’s been sick for years.”

“Let me guess. You tried to get the medicine, but they won’t consider your application.”

“Okay, smart guy. Tell me the rest of the story, since you know so much.”

The stranger smiled at his harsh words. “I’ve seen this struggle so many times. You think you’re the only one who’s ever had to make this decision, but you’ll find out that you’re keeping company with a host of others. It always starts out simple. That nagging little ache right here,” he touched his abdomen below his liver, “that won’t go away. At first, it’s hardly noticeable—simply a discomfort. After a few months, the pain becomes a dull ache that nags at you like a mosquito in the night. A few weeks later, the ache becomes a pain, which develops into a crippling, bitter monkey on your back that won’t leave you alone. Before long, you know you’ve got it, but there’s no way you can get relief. The only help you can find is with them.” He turns to look at a large window on the storefront immediately across the street. “They have the cure, but you can’t get it. You try anyway, desperate for a cure. You fill out the forms and submit your doctor’s reports, but they still deny you—and keep your nonrefundable application fee. They tell you that there is only one dose left, and it’s ear tagged for someone else. Sometimes they go so far to tell you that it’s for a little girl down the street who has her whole life in front of her.” He took in Chris’ face with one knowing glance. “That’s what they told you, right?”

“Yeah? So?” Chris’ voice was loosing the harsh undertones. Hearing his story repeated was breaking him down.

“So, do you tell your wife she can’t have the medicine? Do you tell her that a guaranteed cure exists, but you can’t get to it? Can you face the disappointed look that will smear her face with tears? Can you face the fact that she’ll die without that medicine? Can you…”

“Enough!” Chris heard all he wanted. His breathing was labored and he was weak from years of struggling.

The man wrapped in shadows laughed menacingly. “And now you are standing here and looking beyond that glass window at the last dose of the medicine that can cure your wife. You’re staring at it and trying to decide.”

Chris faced the man squarely. “So, smart guy, what am I trying to decide?”

He shrugged without caring. “You might be struggling with whether or not to steal the medicine, knowing that it violates all of your beliefs. You might be weighing the lesser of two evils in your heart. You might even be struggling with whether or not God has appointed a day for your wife to die. And, you might be wondering if God will honor your faith in Him if you violate your principles. However, I know that you’re struggling with whether or not you can break that glass.”

A snarl curled his lips into question marks. “Why are you here? Why are you tormenting me? Don’t you have something better to do?”

His laugh penetrated Chris’ heart. “Oh, I’m here for you. I’m the only one who can help you. You know the stories about that glass. You know it’s the only glass that can’t be broken. But I know how to get through that glass shield that is preventing your wife from dying.” He leaned forward. “When will she die? Tonight? Tomorrow?”

Chris’ hands surrounded his face in frustration. “Stop it! Leave me alone.”

“If I leave you alone, you won’t get through that window.”

As if standing on a high dive and taking a gulp of air before plummeting to the depth of the waters below him, Chris drew in a deep, satisfying breath. “Fine. Show me how.”

“You see? That wasn’t so hard, was it? It’s not hard to violate your principles once you start. Just out of curiosity, how do you justify your decision?”

Chris, now relieved to be free of the struggle replied with passion. “She and I are one. There is no other relationship that is more important than the two of us. Not our kids, not my friends, and not my family. It’s a reminder of something bigger than me. I refuse to allow her to die.”

The man taunted him. “And what about that little girl who will die when you steal her medicine?”

“Who am I to decide whether or not she lives? I have my wife to consider and I’ve made my decision.”

“Good,” he replied with a throaty growl. “You’ll need this.” He reached into his pocket and produced a hammer.

“What’s this?”

“Like I told you earlier. That glass won’t break. You could hit it with a rock, you could shoot it, but it you hit it with this hammer, it will shatter on demand.”

“Why?”

“Because I designed the glass. I know how to defeat it. This is no ordinary hammer. You can only use it once.”

Chris turned the hammer in his hand. It was surprising light, and didn’t seem to weigh more than a few ounces. “And what do I owe you for this?”

“I’ve already been paid.”

Without further consideration, Chris walked defiantly to the large window and touched the glass with the hammer. It shattered under his touch and he realized the hammer had dissolved in his hands. He stared at the medicine sitting on the shelf in the back of the pharmacy, inviting him to finish its bidding.