Chronicles of Flumdiddle

So I'm taking a really fun experimental writing class, and the first day my teacher had us pick out 3 postcards and write something based off them.

What I got:
a poetry magazine ad with the name Hix and a banana on it
a postcard for an album called "East of Flumdiddle"
a postcard with a panther and panther facts

What I did with it:

Hix from East of Flumdiddle
was a Panther who loved to solve riddles.
He was smarter than any bard,
so no problem was too hard
for that clever panther of Flumdiddle.

But then there came a day
when one fruit's question left him with nothing to say
"What is smaller than a blade of grass,
but with ultimate power and class?"
Hix didn't even have a hunch
so he ate the banana for lunch.

~~~~~~~~
This was fun to write. I enjoy random out-of-the-box writings. It started off as just a semi-almost-a-limerick and then just ended up as a silly poem.
~~~~~~~~

Then for homework we had to take whatever we wrote and change it into a different form of writing. I did a poem, so I turned into a piece of fiction:

Date: 13th of Flum
Location: Private Office

        The name is Hix. Hix Panthorus. I'm a P.I.-- Panther Investigator, and I work in the Riddle Division. Ya know, solvin' riddles and whatnot. You've got a word problem? A question with no clear answer? I'm the on you come to.

        Ya see, I'm the smartest cat in town. My mind's a sharp as my claws. There ain't no problem I can't solve. Remember that Humpty Egg fella? I put him back together.

        Eeeeyup. I', the cleverest feline in this here kingdom of Flumdiddle and always will be. Wanna know why? Because I ain't just got book smarts, I got them street smarts too.

        Let me give you an example.

        One day, I was mindin' my own business here in the office, when this fruit came in. A real beauty of a dame as far as that part of the food pyramid is concerned. She was a banana. Smooth yellow skin, with a long slender body. Looked delicious.

        Now, this banana, she came to me with a seemingly simple question.

        "What is smaller than a blade of grass, but with ultimate power and class?" she asked.

        I'm going to be honest with you. At first I thought I had the answer in the bag, but then the more I thought about it the less sure i got. I had no idea what this gal wanted me to say. I mean what kinda question is that? "Smaller than a blade of grass..."

        So then I had a dilemma of my own. I couldn't let some floozy of a fruit go around and ruin my rep when I couldn't answer her question!

        So you know what I did?

        I ate her.

        She was tasty as she looked, and rich in potassium too.

~~~~~~~~~~
I seriously hope you read that in a ridiculously stereotypical 1920s Private Eye/ Detective voice. If you didn't, go back and read it again... out loud this time.

I really like writing this as a detective story, I think I might write some more like these later.

Just a quick post

I love looking through my notebooks. I always find little stanzas and phrases of things I started but never finished. Usually I stop them because I lose inspiration, but when I look back again I get new ideas. It's also really fun to wonder what I was thinking when I started writing them. I just found these:


I don't need anyone

to see me break down.

No one needs to watch

my tears flow to the ground.

~~~

Pleasure is a fickle mistress

sometimes she comes so easily

and delights you with her gifts

but other times she is so cold

~~~

Self Expression

That drop of yellow paint on the wall.

That streak of green on the sidewalk.

That sparkle floating in the air.

That is who I am.

The shadow lurking off screen.

The star twinkling in the sky covered by clouds.

The small daisy hidden in a bouquet of roses.

That is who I am.

A figment of your imagination.

A product of procreation.

A consequence of action.

That is who I am.

~~~

So yeah,  right now these aren't much. They're jewels in the rough, ideas that still need to be developed... but this is a good little sneak inside view as to how I think and write. I have small samples like these everywhere, and every once in a while I come across one and I get hit with inspiration. So I take these ideas and I play with them and sometimes what I come up with will be just a final version of the original and sometimes it is nothing like the initial work.

I wonder what these will turn into. I can't wait to find out. :)

You Gave It To Him

You gave it to him,
His reason to live.
His reason to give.
And then you took it from him.

He smiled for you.
He sang for you.
He killed for you.
But you still left him behind.

Why?

What is the purpose
of changing someone's life
for the better, forever...

When in the end
             you break their heart?

When in the end
             you crush their dreams?

When in the end
              you take away their breath
leaving them cold, still,
               lifeless.

You gave it to him.
The gun.
The despair.
The reason.

You gave it to him,
Before you said goodbye.
As you walked out the door.
After you disappeared.

Now, you're gone
and so is he.
But I am here.
Only I remain.

Alone.

I wish you had given it to me instead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was a poem I wrote back in September or October. It was for my Creative Writing class, we had to open a book, pick a sentence at random and then use it to make a poem or a story or whatever we could think of.

My sentence was "You gave it to him." from Kurt Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle.

Kid explains to Principal

He he he 'kay so this next poem is a bit...uhm strange...and uhm borderline inappropriate xD
I had to write a narration poem in class with a partner. My partner was Rachel, a friend of mine. She's really nice :3 Well what we basically had to do was tell a fairy tale from a different perspective/point-of-view. This poem is basically what i thought of right away when she gave us the assignment and i remembered this fairy tale (I'm not telling which it is, you can figure it out :) ). Ha ha ha. Then I just ranted to poor Rachel and then she added in some details as i frantically wrote it all down xD Today I read it to class, people were quite shocked ha ha ha. I'm starting to worry my teacher a bit, 'specially after I read Mary in class too. I feel sorry for Rachel though, now they think she's as messed up as I am. Sorry Rachel! :D  Well anyways here's the poem! (BTW hope no one is insulted by this poem in anyway :3 )

Kid explaining to Principal

by FE and Rachel S.

So I was walkin' through the woods

playin' hookie,

when I saw this chick

in a glass case thing!

An' she was surrounded

by these midget dudes!!

Well so, the first thing

that came to my mind

was

GANG RAPE!

So I did the only logical

thing I could do!

I grabbed a big branch,

and started whacking them with it!

An' they were flailing

an' screamin'

but I couldn't hear what

they were screamin'

since I was listenin' t' my ipod.

An' besides you can't trust

midget thugs...

or is it politicians y'can't trust?

I always get those two mixed up...

Well anyways!

Out of nowhere,

this tall dude

with tights an' a cape

jumped out!

(well he was tall compared t' the midgets)

An' he started suckin'

the chick's face off!

So naturally,

I whacked that foo' !

Well after all that,

I was just standin'

in the woods

with a bunch of

 unconscious bodies

all around me.

An' since I didn't know

what else to do

I called the cops!

Unfortunately I forgot

I was supposed to be in school.

So the cops brought me here,

an' now here I am

explainin' everythin'

to you Mr. Principal!

... Hope you liked it xD...

yea this is exactly what first came to mind when i thought of Snow White, and a "different" point-of-view xD

I swear there is nothing wrong with me (or Rachel, Rachel is totally normal) I just have a very strange imagination :3

My Sonnet

I had to write a sonnet for my Creative Writing Class~!
I wrote a Petrarchan sonnet. Sonnets need to have 14 lines, and 10 syllables in each line, and they have to follow an iambic pentameter (rhythm pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables, U=unstressed, /=stressed, and iamb is U/, and anapest is UU/, an iambic pentameter consists of 5 iambs, U/U/U/U/U/) .
The rhyme scheme for a petrarchan sonnet is abba abba cdcdcd or cdecde. The petrachan sonnet (or italian sonnet) consists of an octave (group of 8 lines) and a sestet (group of 6 lines). The octave must either tell a small story, ask a question or pose a problem, then the sestet comments on the story, or answers the question or solves the problem.
The shakesperean sonnet (or english sonnet) has a rhyme scheme of abab cdcd efef gg and consists of 3 quatrains (group of 4 lines) and one ending couplet (group of 2 lines). The quatrains must each describe a different aspect of a subject and the couplet sums up the poem.
And that was your English Lesson for the day ;)

Here's my sonnet :)

No Broken Heart

Tell me, how far have you traveled young one?

Desperately searching for your true love,

only to have him fly off like a dove.

Tell me now, how much farther will you run?

Will you chase after him 'till you are dun,

with hope that it is you he will belove?

I pray for you, to the angels above,

that parts of a broken heart, you'll have none.

But to tell you truth, that matters not, friend.

For if a fool thinks of harming your heart,

I will make him pay, 'till the very end.

By no man will your heart be torn apart,

'less he wishes for broken bones to mend.

He who harms you, 'll be my dead work of art.

Limericks

My creative writing homework for the weekend was to write limericks.Which meant I had to make rhymes. I do not like rhyming. Not one bit. But despite that, I ended up writing 2 limericks!! After I wrote the first one I ended up talking in rhymes for about five minutes! XD

Here's the first one:

There once was a girl with luscious curls.

Her hair caused envy in all the girls.

So in an act of scoff,

They cut it all off,

And left her with nothing but some whorls.

(whorls are strands of hair)

Here's the second one, these were my thoughts after I wrote the first one, I kid you not!

So I just wrote that damn limerick.

Now will someone please give me the heimlich.

I can barely breath,

For I cannot believe,

That I just wrote one more limerick!