Poets, who would like to be a part of a discussion about this election for the podcast. This will work best if your poetry as some sort of political lean. If you know someone who would be perfect, send them my way. We’ve got some work to do and some interesting conversations to hold.
Contact me via email: email@example.com Subject: poet project
Remember when Howard Beale implored people to stick the head out of the window and yell, “I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!” in the classic Network? The thunder rolling in the backdrop as voices were heard calling out their anger all over the country, punctuated the sound sharp cries of their distress. Without that rain and the thunder, the scene wouldn’t have had as much impact.
It wouldn’t have had as much impact without that rainy weather. In Alanis Morisette’s song, “Ironic” she mentioned rain on your wedding, which for some brides would be an absolute disaster. Others, may be tempted to kick off their heels and dance in the storm.
You’ve definitely seen the weather impact life events in your life as well. On a winter’s night when you’re curled on the couch with a cup of cocoa, the snow falling outside makes it all feel that much more cozy.
Let’s write a poem about weather impacting an occasion and making the moment that much stronger. Whether it’s more intimate, more secure, just more. Remember, we’re potentially looking at these poems submitted for the anthology. What is this, you ask? Learn more about it here. Be sure to backlink your posts or share your link in the comments below.
I’ve noticed that creatives, writers especially often have trouble sleeping aren’t able to sleep. Are our brains hardwired to ignore biological functions like sleep when writing wants to happen (or when writing refuses us)? Insomnia is such a persistent and unwanted bed buddy. It just won’t take no for an answer. Even though sometimes sleep is the time when those creative thoughts are more active.
Your mission, should you choose to accept it: Write a poem that somehow defeats insomnia. It could be something soothing that would lull the unaware to sleep, like he song below by the Dandy Warhols. It could be a duel where you are fighting Insomnia to reclaim your sleeping rights.Be creative and have fun with this. If you join in this week, let us know by backlinking to this post, or posting your link the comments.
Sometimes a piece of music touches us and inspires us in amazing ways, and while sometimes we let you find your own music to inspire you, today I have chosen a piece for you.
Lukas Graham’s song, 7 Years, travels through one man’s life and through an unknown future. I love the way he marks the passage of time with certain ages and specific things that were said to him at that age:
Once I was eleven years old my daddy told me
Go get yourself a wife or you’ll be lonely
Once I was eleven years old
I will post the lyrics and video below for those that haven’t heard the song yet. I want you to let this inspire you. Think to a specific age, to your thoughts and hopes and aspirations as that age, to the advice given you then. Write about it.
Remember you have until Friday to submit your entry by either leaving it in the comment section below or linking back to this post. All entries will be considered for the second edition of the anthology.
Write for Us submissions are also open. You can submit here for that.
7 Years by Lukas Graham
Once I was seven years old my momma told me Go make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely Once I was seven years old
It was a big big world, but we thought we were bigger Pushing each other to the limits, we were learning quicker By eleven smoking herb and drinking burning liquor Never rich so we were out to make that steady figure
Once I was eleven years old my daddy told me Go get yourself a wife or you’ll be lonely Once I was eleven years old
I always had that dream like my daddy before me So I started writing songs, I started writing stories Something about that glory just always seemed to bore me ‘Cause only those I really love will ever really know me
Once I was 20 years old, my story got told Before the morning sun, when life was lonely Once I was 20 years old
I only see my goals, I don’t believe in failure ‘Cause I know the smallest voices, they can make it major I got my boys with me at least those in favor And if we don’t meet before I leave, I hope I’ll see you later
Once I was 20 years old, my story got told I was writing about everything, I saw before me Once I was 20 years old Soon we’ll be 30 years old, our songs have been sold We’ve traveled around the world and we’re still roaming Soon we’ll be 30 years old
I’m still learning about life My woman brought children for me So I can sing them all my songs And I can tell them stories Most of my boys are with me Some are still out seeking glory And some I had to leave behind My brother I’m still sorry
Soon I’ll be 60 years old, my daddy got 61 Remember life and then your life becomes a better one I made a man so happy when I wrote a letter once I hope my children come and visit, once or twice a month
Soon I’ll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold Or will I have a lot of children who can warm me Soon I’ll be 60 years old Soon I’ll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold Or will I have a lot of children who can warm me Soon I’ll be 60 years old
Once I was seven years old, momma told me Go make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely Once I was seven years old
The key to getting published is at once simple and painful…You have to put yourself out there. Keep submitting your work and sharing it with the world. Remember that you can always submit to our Write for Us segment and that our magazine submissions are now open for the year.
Big Pulp “defines pulp-fiction very broadly: it’s lively, challenging, thought-provoking, thrilling, and fun…” They are looking more for character and story elements than genre specific themes.
Bring me a sunset in a cup
Sprinkle in drops of rain
Watch as afternoon beauty
Is mixed with the world’s pain
Bring me the starry skin onto a plate
Mix in the dreams that lay awake
See as wishes fall to the floor
As the world gives up – the stars shine no more
Bring me daylight locked in a jar
Add in shadows that roam the night
Witness as hope stirs with fear
Welcome to the parallels of life my dear
Sonya is a believer. She believes in love even if she hasn’t quite found it yet. She hopes her writing can inspire others to believe in it too, as well as believing in themselves. She steals lunch breaks and midnights to write on the side of her full-time advertising career. She savors chai tea lattes, rainy days, rooftop bars, and handwritten notes. She enjoys exploring the world internationally, as well as at home in Miami, Florida. She believes that everything happens for a reason, and she’s okay with not quite knowing what that is yet. See more of her on her blog, www.singlestrides.com.