Writing Prompt / Exercise #9

He was a tree that was easy to forget...

Ethan's prompt 6

If you told me our
last hug was a lie
I would gargle arsenic
to get the taste out.
Sand your name
from the surface,
sweep up that feeling
and place it under my bed
where I keep all of the things
I am afraid of.
I keep nightmares beneath
my dreams.
Why should your heart
be any different?
I would blame love poems on you.
Find spiders stretching
to the corners of your picture frames.
Fill trash cans
with your puppet strings.
I would apologize
for making you pretend
that this was what you wanted.
You created a beautiful
painting on my chest.
You may erase the pencil marks
but I will keep
these graphite scars
as a reminder
to not look down.
That love is a a tight rope walk
you can never prepare for.
If it was a lie
then it was a good one.
I won't regret believing it
because I was not built
to hate you.

Writing Exercise #8

1) Remember something that frightened or threatened you when you were young (a neighbors dog, shadows, the moon, parents seperation, failure, etc).

2) Now imagine that same thing is being tried publicly. How would you react? Would you be happy or sad? Would you want to defend it or prosecute it. Is the court room a civilized hall of justice or something closer to the times of the Crucible. How do other people feel about? The same as you or different? What will the punishment if it is found guilty? Stoning? Electric chair? Torture or solitary confinement? Are you happy for its existence or do you wish it never existed at all?

Writing Exercise #7

Ok, this one requires a little bit of work, but should be fun.

1. In one (or two) word(s), state what you feel is your biggest strength (charisma, singing voice, athleticism, etc)

2. Go to this website and click on your birthday. Find anyone you recognize (or at least sounds interesting). The first line of your poem will be: Dear (celebrity), when we were switched at birth, you used my (talent from question #1) for __________.

I'm guessing you'll get some weird and funny stuff out of this one.

Ethan's Prompt 4

Dear Ethan,
This is your tongue. Thank you for the airtime. I have yet to feel under appreciated by you and that is something rare in my world. I have seen the sun for 734 consecutive days and not once did I force you to make that happen. You have kept me safe when the war outside was not worth my liquid.
But I would be amiss not to tell you I do not appreciate you holding my hand when we cross the street. I was born far before you and do not need a chaperon in shallow waters. Your moth is no YMCA. This is a mine field of subjects filled with Ts and Ds that should not be soft spoken. Do not fear what you do not say. It can only hurt me. Your molars are sharper than your silence and know more about inflicting pain than your fists.
Do not fear me touching someone other than you. There is something learned in that moment. I need interaction too. Do not hold me back. You protect your heart far more than you even think about me and that is a mistake. I am the strongest muscle in your body and believe me, your heart is crystal stemware begging for the shatter. I am whole. I am pure. You will never break me despite the disclaimer. I spend my days in isolation and spend my time out growing this life sentence.
Just keep in mind, I think about her just as much as you do. I am not as introverted as my life story would claim. I am lonelier than your arms because they get to hug her. Your eyes get to see her. I only get to dream how she would feel. Let me cross the street already. I promise, I don't bite.

Sincerely Yours,
The Tongue

P.S. Don't bother writing back. I already know what you are thinking.

Ethan's Prompt 3

During movie night,
my girlfriend told me
I come from a violin
string of baristas.
The constant vibration
in out of tune lattes
with whipped cream
stains my coffee table.
A caffeine rush away
from letting everything out
this was how she told me.
I am the music
coffee shop cashiers
want to play.
The number one hit they
dream of writing.
The big break
in a small town
that never happens.
But she told me I was
trapped behind the counter.
That ringing up customers
poised to never finish their
memoirs was holding me back.
She said that I spend
too much time inhaling
and I have forgotten
what release tastes like.
It is not a crime
to field your dreams in a coffee shop,
she told me,
but I shouldn't expect her to follow
or a better tip
than this one:
Let the past die
in its bloody tuxedo shirt
and stop playing that sad song
on the violin
when there are so many other songs
that you can be playing.

Writing Exercise / Prompt #6

'If you told me our last hug was a lie...'

Have at it!