*The voting period has ended. The results will be announced at our ning at 6:30 p.m. Pacific time on 16 December 2009.*
It’s that time again. Let your voice be heard! Which of the following works would you like to see put to video?
Poetry (from unFold):
Allan Avidano’s “Interrupted Sonnet #2”
I’d love to spend my time in singing praise
On life but now I feel I must be terse
Linda Leedy Schneider’s “To Yesterday’s Poem”
You incubated in darkness, were born in a yellow notebook; I loved you like any fantasy child.
Nathalie Boisard-Beudin’s “Serial Writer”
I * Pin * Few words * Fastening * Them onto paper * Cutting their wings in the process * Just to write a story they cannot live any more.
Fiction (from PicFic):
Ludimila Hashimoto’s “Madness is Quiet”
I ask the geisha why she doesn´t talk to me. She turns, faces me with the carp in her mouth, nuclear explosions in her eyes. It dawns on me.
Beth Katte’s “Survivors Guilt”
Josh drops laden objects on his feet, walks through thorn patches, drinks expired milk, and elbows searing hot stovetops. His token gesture.
xtx’s “Better Things”
Grass meets her back, then his, then hers. Tasting each other the moonlight is ignored. The eclipse, which they came for, forgotten.
Extended Works (from unFold & PicFic):
Matthew Hupert with Jay Flemma’s “Propositional Phrase”
You’re a noun of renown,
A pluperfect clown,
All other tenses take warning.
So conjugate me,
Just verb me again in the morning.
Nora Nadjarian’s “Zoo”
It’s London Zoo and ten minutes to closing time. The clock walks in and out of cages. I love you baby when you laugh like that at monkeys.
Penguin and pelican, wing in wing, approaching. It’s some bird act, I know. Two birds from nowhere. One flies, one walks.
The zoo stuntman is immobile today. Poor orang-utan with nowhere to go. Panda winks at him, tries to cheer him up, and fails.
We’ll take a photo of you with the lovebirds, and you pay for it on the way out, please. We are zoo paparazzi with a Polaroid camera.
What happens when all the animal cages are cleaned? They get dirty again in no time. What happens when they get dirty again?
Ben White’s feature week
“My Justice”: I don’t feel bad when I take the wallet from his baggy jeans, which are hanging on to his mid-cheeks for dear life. His parents deserve it.
“Routine Mistakes”: I sent him home and told him to rest. The flu is self-limiting. Then he came back with betrayal in his eyes and pneumonia to die in my ward.
“Perseverance”: It was impossible to write her the love song she deserved: the guitar de-tuned, strings broke. Determined, he wrote a short story instead.
“Peter 2.0”: She dumps him at Starbucks. He sips, saying nothing as his legs bounce in anticipation to go home–and blog about it.
“Meh…”: Enough already. No conflict, no drama. They stand at the altar, say “I do,” have great kids, and live happily ever after.
Winners will be announced via video during a live-chat on our ning on 16 December 2009.