Friday, July 29, 2011

Power's Out To Do List

12 things to do when the power's out.

1. Play hide and go seek.
2. Pretend to be a ninja.
3. Paint yourself with glow in the dark paint. Then knock on your neighbors door to see if they will say anything about it.
4. Build a fire and roast marshmellows.
5. hehe...For Married couples only :D
6. Use a flashlight and put on a shadow show.
7. Sleep.
8. Dance like no one is watching (because they aren't if they can't see you.) could hit unseen objects.
9. Make up scary overdramatic stories and tell them to whoever is with you.
10. Light a bazillion candles, have a picnic of sandwiches.
11. Eat ice cream (you know, so it doesn't melt and all that.)
12. Run around naked...because whose going to know. Just don't get caught when the light's come back on.

Cliche (Cat's out of the bag-Wes H.)

Another poetry prompt...but this time the first line is a cliche. The title is an ode to Wes my former boss who at improv night during our church camp as cliche man could only remember "Cat's out of the bag." He then used this every time he was buzzed in.

My cliche is "zigged when she should have zagged."

Zigged when she should have zagged
was my unspoken thought.
The story of her life
She walked away her shoulders sagged

A tightrope walk on the sharp edge of a knife
truth hidden in night
The broken in spirit
Bitter, wounded, filled with inner strife

If I spoke would she hear it?
What to say to
The one in need
pain's past begin to disinherit?

But by word and deed,
By love given, and
The hand of helping
From all sorrow she was freed

(That was a real stretch there.)


The prompt was to take the last line of a poem that you like and make it the first of yours. I chose "Do not go gentle into that good night" by Dylan Thomas after doing some poetry research since the only poem I could even remember was "The Road not taken"

Rage, rage against the dying of the light
But why fear you the Lord your soul to take
death should no longer give you such fright

For if you are his salt and light
and all your life is lived for his sake
Rejoice for even in death your future is bright

And be awed by the hoped for sight
that pierced hands will someday make
as your heart in your chest grows tight

The enemy no more you will need fight
as his outstretched hand you choose to take
His word alone will cast back the night

Rage, rage against the dying of the light
but not the dying that death will make
Rage, rage against the lost soul's plight

(And I'm pretty sure that's awful poetry, but I'm not a poet and don't I know