Poetry meme
Oct. 4th, 2023 11:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elen_nareIt has been far too long since a. I posted here, b. I wrote fic, c. I did this fun little meme, so here I am again!
Rules
1: Pick five fandoms. List them in alphabetical order.
2: Visit this site to find your first RANDOM POEM OF POWER. Write down the 5th line (yes, even if it's an E.E. Cummings poem and you wind up with an apostrophe). Repeat five times and - you guessed it - list them in alphabetical order! (No cheating, mind! This is a challenge and it's always been about creativity.)
3: I think you can see where this is going. Write a very quick 50-word half-drabble for each fandom (try to do it all in one sitting), using the line from the poem as a prompt. You don't have to include it in the half-drabble - it's just inspiration.
4: Bravo! Have a cookie.
(I always forget to alphabetise the poems, I just take them in order - and I had to find another random poem generator, the old one was broken. This one is very Canadian, but it's the best I could find - suggestions for other ones accepted!)
Chalet School - informed crowded alloys detect no (Rita Wong, “fluorine” from forage)
“I don't expect scientific brilliance from Corney and Co,” Nell Wilson assured the Staffroom. “But is basic coherency really too much to ask for?”
Hilda Annersley's eyebrows rose as she read some samples. “Leave them to me, Nell,” she replied, in a tone that boded no good for the miscreants.
High Rollers : Aerois - too large for this body. Too willing to (Joshua Jennifer Espinoza, "COMFORT" from There Should Be Flowers)
It's not that Quill doesn't feel the lure of the spark of divinity. But it's too big, too powerful. What will he be if he takes it? Not an aarakocra any more, not really… will he even still be Quill? No. He'll stay mortal, stay with his friends, stay himself.
High Rollers: Curse of Strahd - “Forward, the Light Brigade! (The charge of the Light Brigade, Tennyson)
Yesper hears stories, on his trips outside Barovia. Songs of glorious last stands, heroic charges, victories against seemingly insurmountable odds. He likes these tales, memorises them for the campfire. But he doesn’t believe them, not really… Maybe they’re true, maybe in Faerun they can be true, but not in Barovia.
The Left-Handed Booksellers of London - Forsaken by my parents (Alootook Ipellie, "Walking Both Sides of an Invisible Border," from Gathering: The En’owkin Journal of First North American Peoples: A Retrospective.)
Vivien and Merlin rarely talk about their parents. What is there to say? Their father is birthday cards with dutiful invitations to visit Cambridge, that Vivien takes up occasionally and Merlin mostly avoids. Their mother is a case file Vivien doesn’t want to think about and Merlin can’t leave alone.
Swallows and Amazons - travels a direction it cannot find, (Kevin Irie's "Current")
Susan peers blindly into the fog, trying to make out anything at all. Why did she let Titty and Roger go back by themselves? It’s all very well Nancy and Peggy saying they’ll have been back at camp for ages; Susan won’t be happy until she sees it for herself.
Rules
1: Pick five fandoms. List them in alphabetical order.
2: Visit this site to find your first RANDOM POEM OF POWER. Write down the 5th line (yes, even if it's an E.E. Cummings poem and you wind up with an apostrophe). Repeat five times and - you guessed it - list them in alphabetical order! (No cheating, mind! This is a challenge and it's always been about creativity.)
3: I think you can see where this is going. Write a very quick 50-word half-drabble for each fandom (try to do it all in one sitting), using the line from the poem as a prompt. You don't have to include it in the half-drabble - it's just inspiration.
4: Bravo! Have a cookie.
(I always forget to alphabetise the poems, I just take them in order - and I had to find another random poem generator, the old one was broken. This one is very Canadian, but it's the best I could find - suggestions for other ones accepted!)
Chalet School - informed crowded alloys detect no (Rita Wong, “fluorine” from forage)
“I don't expect scientific brilliance from Corney and Co,” Nell Wilson assured the Staffroom. “But is basic coherency really too much to ask for?”
Hilda Annersley's eyebrows rose as she read some samples. “Leave them to me, Nell,” she replied, in a tone that boded no good for the miscreants.
High Rollers : Aerois - too large for this body. Too willing to (Joshua Jennifer Espinoza, "COMFORT" from There Should Be Flowers)
It's not that Quill doesn't feel the lure of the spark of divinity. But it's too big, too powerful. What will he be if he takes it? Not an aarakocra any more, not really… will he even still be Quill? No. He'll stay mortal, stay with his friends, stay himself.
High Rollers: Curse of Strahd - “Forward, the Light Brigade! (The charge of the Light Brigade, Tennyson)
Yesper hears stories, on his trips outside Barovia. Songs of glorious last stands, heroic charges, victories against seemingly insurmountable odds. He likes these tales, memorises them for the campfire. But he doesn’t believe them, not really… Maybe they’re true, maybe in Faerun they can be true, but not in Barovia.
The Left-Handed Booksellers of London - Forsaken by my parents (Alootook Ipellie, "Walking Both Sides of an Invisible Border," from Gathering: The En’owkin Journal of First North American Peoples: A Retrospective.)
Vivien and Merlin rarely talk about their parents. What is there to say? Their father is birthday cards with dutiful invitations to visit Cambridge, that Vivien takes up occasionally and Merlin mostly avoids. Their mother is a case file Vivien doesn’t want to think about and Merlin can’t leave alone.
Swallows and Amazons - travels a direction it cannot find, (Kevin Irie's "Current")
Susan peers blindly into the fog, trying to make out anything at all. Why did she let Titty and Roger go back by themselves? It’s all very well Nancy and Peggy saying they’ll have been back at camp for ages; Susan won’t be happy until she sees it for herself.
