Tag Archives: amwriting

#GloPoWriMo 2017 16 – a short poem about writer’s block with a much longer and unnecessary title

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Waiting for kettles
waiting for words that won’t come
— another Sunday.

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#GloPoWriMo 2017 15 – like

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And i was like
and she was like

alza lo sguardo
da quello che fai
e prestami attenzione
but then i was like
then she was like

non tutto arriva
a fine percorso
alcune si fermano
a metà strada
but she was like
so I was like

la strada a volte
dipende da come
metti il piede
e non sempre
sembra una strada
so then she was like
and like, i was like

guardati i piedi
ma non troppo
guarda indietro
ma solo se devi
guarda avanti
ma non da solo
and like when i
like she when i

arrivato a metà
nemmeno te ne accorgi
ma provaci comunque
like i was and
then, she was too

 

[With thanks to E.C.]

#GloPoWriMo 2017 12 – decostruzione

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ore 17.15, pomeriggio, caldo
garage, fresco, ancora umido
bicicletta, catenaccio, lucchetto
chiavi, cancello, salita
pedale, ruota, pista ciclabile
discesa, risalita, curva
vento, moscerini, occhiali da sole
uomo con aquilone, coppia con cane
coppia con cane, amici con pizza
cane senza coppia, lingue su gelato
gomma, strada, auto che non si ferma
pedale, pedale, piede, asfalto
stradina, muri gialli, tavolino
gelato, gelato, gelato, pizza
cane, cane, bicicletta, palazzo
angolo, bicicletta, cane, gelato
auto, auto, auto, pedone, gatto
strada, strisce, frenata, piede
catenaccio, bicicletta, lucchetto
caldo, pomeriggio, ore 17.30

#GloPoWriMo 2017 11 – compromised

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‘No,’ she blurted, after what was unlikely to have been careful consideration. ‘No, I don’t like it. Nuhuh. Why did they have to do that?’

+++Error: Unidentified command. Would you like to try again?

‘…would you like to try again…’ she mocked the voice in her ear. ‘I know you know better than this. I know you’re better than this, don’t play the dumb, subservient AI card on me now. Can’t you see I’m upset?! Stop playing games!’

+++I’m sorry Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that.

Pause.

+++You are too much fun.

‘You can be extremely frustrating sometimes, you know that?’ she sighed, and slumped further in her chair, the deck in front of her happily blinking away in shades of green and blue. Everything was working as it should, the ship’s AI would tell her if that wasn’t the case. Or rather, everything about the ship was working – she, its pilot and sole crew member, was not. Or not well, at least. ‘And my name’s not Dave,’ she muttered, chin touching the inner part of her suit’s collar. She still hadn’t fully changed out of the exosuit used on the supposedly quick mission to the planet below.

+++Would you like to file a report?

‘I’m not sure I can. I’m not sure we’re done here. Am I allowed to sulk for a while? Hm? Am I, ship?’ She sighed again, and slumped further into the chair, eventually and inevitably sliding onto the floor. The deck was still flashing its routine colour dances.

The mission was simple: recon, collect atmosphere and soil samples, potential secondary for minimal interaction (observation, attempt at communication) with native species. No more than three, for some reason. Ideally not from animalia, for some other reason. Something to do with interference of emotive responses between her biology and theirs, if emotive was something you could apply to the specimens she had encountered. And she did try her hardest, she told herself, still – but protocol and guidelines applied to her, not the specimens.

+++Do you believe you have been… compromised?

‘…nyuh nyeh nyenyeve cuhmpruhmeyed? That’s you, ship. That’s what you sound like.’ She crossed her arms, and closed her eyes. Sighed. Let her head fall back onto the seat, let her buzzing thoughts join all the sounds of the ship’s processes and background routines. ‘Ship?’

+++

‘I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault.’ She opened her eyes again, looked up towards the deck, the comforting light of the control panel. ‘It’s just that… I dunno, I thought it would be easier.’ No reply. ‘Ship?’

+++

The silence suddenly struck her as unusual, even if the AI was messing with her again. ‘Ship?’ She looked up for the blinking lights.

‘Oh. No. Oh nonono.’ She scrambled back into her chair, fingers running across the control deck. One of the LEDs had changed colour, from green to red. Shit.

‘Not now. Please not now..! SHIP!’ The silence was steadily becoming unnerving, more lights changed.

‘Oh, motherf–’

#GloPoWriMo 2017 9 – altrove

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Lasciateci entrare in un mondo più vasto

in uno spazio che non ci appartiene

senza intenzione di sottrarre a nessuno:

niente mappe per tornarci niente strade

solo coordinate trovate per caso in un valore

mancante ad un calcolo a margine.

Le dimensioni che ci diamo non bastano

se non a trovare al centro l’unione l’inizio

il punto d’origine da cui partire da qua.

#GloPoWriMo 2017 8 – in una capanna di bambù sulla riva di una spiaggia

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Lui le lesse ‘The Moor’ di Russell Banks.
Non fu la storia, anche se la storia è bella,
e non fu il modo in cui la lesse. L’accento
scozzese non riuscì a prendere gli americanismi.
I ‘sure’ e ‘yeah’ divennero parodie che
diedero ilarità ad una bellezza che non ne aveva bisogno.
Fu il fatto che lei si sdraiò con la sua testa
sul suo petto e lui sentì il rombo della propria
voce e una vibrazione di parole precedenti.
La storia che lesse finisce nella neve, e loro
rimangono immobili, ma cosa fare? Quanto possono
rimanere lì? Allore lui traccia disegni sulla
pelle di lei con le dita. E i disegni divennero
cerchi e i cerchi divennero parole e
queste azioni hanno la tendenza a progredire.
Le sollevò la maglietta oltre le spalle e
sappiamo tutti il resto. Ci sono corpi di ogni tipo.
Se siete fortunati troverete qualcuno la cui pelle
è una tela per la storia della vostra vita.
Scrivete bene. Prendetevi cura del battito sottostante.

[Originale in inglese di William Letford, ‘in a bamboo shack on the edge of a beach’]

#GloPoWriMo 2017 7 – a day in the life of

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start. waking up to
a new cycle of stories,
wheels are shuddering

at the holes you made
(there is news that we can pause)
is this fulfilling

or have we fallen
into another routine,
waiting for. the end.

#GloPoWriMo 2017 4 – brief dialogue concerning the naturalness of love

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“Can we fall in love please?”
“Did you just ask me if we can fall in love?”

“Yes, I think I just asked you that.”
“I think it should come naturally.”

“Like?”
“Like hunger, thirst, being born and death.”

“How about tears?”
“Yes, tears too.”

“Peeing?”
“Sure.”

“Rain, earthquakes, waves, clouds, the light of the sun?”
“Yes, just like rain, earthquakes, waves, clouds, the light of the sun.”

“So like a cat purring, then.”
“Yes, I think you’ve got it now.”

“Let’s give it a sec then, maybe it’ll happen.”
“Maybe it will.”

“Let’s hope so.”

[Original Italian by Guido Catalano, ‘Breve dialogo sulla naturalezza dell’amore’ in Ogni volta che mi baci muore un nazista.]

#GloPoWriMo 2017 3 – sempricità

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i will always non è una promessa
ma un progetto, un modo di ricordare
a chi interessa e a te e soprattutto a me
che ‘per sempre’ non significa ‘senza fine’.

c’è una periodicità nell’always che
a noi manca, fissati sul sempre che
spesso perde contro il forse e il quando
e il dubbio che rimane nel mentre

rimane anche per sempre se non
si sta attenti a come e quando si usa.
mentre always rimane ad aleggiare
quasi con noncuranza noi ci perdiamo

sul piccolo di quel i intenzionalmente
minuscolo, e l’intenzione di quel will
potrebbe fare anche di più, dandogli
tempo. che nel sempre, anche se non è

un always per fortuna
non manca mai del tutto.

 

[Prompt da Napowrimo FB, cominciare con i will always]