Hey, everyone.
Today is the first day I begin my flash story and poetry challenge/discipline. The rules are simple: using a website called "Wheel Decide," I created a writing genres wheel full of fiction and non-fiction genres along with poetry styles. I give the sucker a spin, and whatever it lands on, I have thirty minutes to write something within the boundaries of that genre. I have 27 unique genres on the wheel at this time and I'm not against adding more. For those times I get something like "poetry--villanelle" or "poetry--narrative," I will stop where I'm supposed to and continue the poem another day. Hopefully, it ends up being a day where that topic again. Alright, let's begin.
Wheel of genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I should discern!
Today's Topic is... Poetry--Lyric. And according to Wikipedia, a lyric is a "formal type of poetry which expresses personal emotions or feelings, typically spoken in the first person." Alright, let's give this a-go. Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!
I drown in waters deep,
They turn me into a creep;
For waters they are none,
But rather a risk of my fun.
These waters may be my own tears,
For I cannot hold back my fears;
For where I drown is personal debt,
The coined conditions haven't been met.
Fool was I to seek a degree,
Naught but words on leaf from tree;
Guidance was I lacking,
My true path took the sacking;
"Go to college and t'will be right,"
Now I find myself in dire plight.
I am not by the world forsaken,
T'was my reason that was shaken.
Lo Uncle Sam is a patient collector,
To no other man would I want to be debtor;
Nay, community banks are worse,
Money monthly due is the curse.
But lo, this burden not so heavy,
I feel no brunt of levy;
What hath done me in
Was my own hubris and sin.
Dealt with the Devil did I
Sticking my thumbs into hemlock pie;
Sweet words and easy work
Answered my greediest quirks.
A thousand lost in a week,
Now I mewl like the meek;
Begging God for pardon and peace
To bring my burden to a cease.
Justice will find the cur who wronged me so,
And his soul be slaughtered like a doe;
Cursed am I to find suitable labor,
Wherein Benjamins will call me neighbor.
Stop the clock! Seven minutes yet to go, but I really don't think I can write any more. I wanted that last quatrain to go ABAB, but who knows how long that would've taken or even if it would've been as "satisfying" an ending as what I wrote. To be honest, this was a little difficult to write because it is all true. I mean, I simplified the issue a bit, but for the most part, it is true. What lessons can be learned from this poem: 1. Don't go to college, 2. Don't take out a loan you can't pay back, and 3. Don't believe ads on Craigslist promising to pay you for posting ads.
But what can I learn from writing the poem? Well, it took me less than 30 minutes to write a decent poem in full. Perhaps if I enforced a time constraint on all my writing I could write a hell of a lot more. And it would help me gauge my time overall.
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. See you tomorrow.
Keep writing, my friends.
More About Bryan C. Laesch:
Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
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Twitter: BryanofallTrade
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