Today’s word prompt is ’old’. Come join us at 6am PST (2pm in the UK) for 15 minutes of writing inspired by the word.
Please feel free to add your dash piece to the comments section of this blog post below.
If you want quick feedback attend the event inworld at 6am PST http://slurl.com/secondlife/Milk%20Wood/79/56/22
For more detailed feedback join the private Daily Writers’ Dash group.
N.B. Some call it hot penning or free writing, we like to call it a dash. If you are attending inworld, you’ll be provided with a word or picture prompt and the timer set for 15 minutes. Write whatever comes to you. Don’t fixate too heavily on what you are writing and disengage your inner editor. After the dash there will be an opportunity for you to show your work to the other participants.
If you can’t make the meet but want to dash later inworld, just set the timer and drop your notecard in the grey pencil by the caravan when you’re done. Anyone can click it for a folder of dashes from the day.
If you are dashing outside of Second Life® we welcome your dashes in the comments section below.
Look out for the daily prompts on Facebook, Twitter and Second Life® .
what is old
is a fly one after a week
is an elephant old after 50 years
is a redwood old after hundreds of years
Are you as old as you feel
Am I old
Because my parts are running down
and because they creak when I move
Or are the mountains old
The rivers
and the stars
just because they have been here
for such a very long long time
but then that raises the question
what is time
one thing after another
How do we measure time
an atomic clock
with atoms
decaying
one by one
running out
towards death
entropy
approaching an end..
is that a new beginning
or all that there is
when there are none to remember
©2012 lorddragon
The Old affairs cannot be
‘mended’
by displacement
for THEY are not the broken
generation
shall not break in their events
when THEIR nation is at stake
when a nations ancient People
are sentenced to be de-rendered
to some coffee-coloured One World idyll
of a FOREIGN Power’s howls
for fairness
which is patently UNFAIR
to the adult nations
of This Worlds own
and which is ideal ONLY
of the disenfranchised
whining Liberal Left
who are left out
wantonly
un-grown up
because they are a puny
grasping ‘cult’
who shun the foreground
with its healthy dose of mundane days
and effort to fill themselves
to labour for a life
as ‘all is done’ to bring ‘us’ about
to EFFORT to burn a talent
by sweat
out of their raw natures
which has any gives a damn value
EFFORT to step beyond
the Honey Trap
of petty victim-hood
of larding their Art with
I hurt…so look at ME
AT ME AT ME AT US
YOUR VICTIMS
am I not TALENTED at
hurting
at labouring under
false society
which beggers ME
without my choosing
look, see, care to take me out of it
in denouncing your own
in killing off your Heart
your Nation
emptying your home
to FEED to always empty
prophets
of social doom
and divisiveness
The Old shall yet hold sway
and rebuff
your ignorant charges at
OUR Feast
for you have brought
NO FOOD
rendered NO TABLE
to honour your
Host
yourself
and OURS
©2012 Queen Bluestar
Old
The passage of time, ring-a-ding,
as time flies like a bird on the wing
makes a year disappear
with a flea in its ear
for old age is a terrible thing
Someone my age, so I’m told,
should never be brazen or bold
but should always defer
to what others prefer
but, my God! how that makes you feel old
Don’t ask for whom the bell tolled
that day in the rain and the cold
It rang for us all
or so I recall
and for all the old poets foretold
©Martina Meinster
Old faces, old habits, old.
Old places, old times.
Recollections of dreams
And smiles, old.
No more.
Old is just old. From
The grave, old.
©2012 Lizzie Gudkov
OLD
Since I grew up in a household of adults–
parents, grandparents, assorted relatives–
I didn’t think of age 30 and above as old.
Most of our furniture came from family members
who were down-sizing or had passed away.
I LOVE solid wood, old furniture!
It’s sturdy, comfortable, individual.
When my Mom was getting older,
after Dad had passed away,
one day I said to her
“Mom. We’re Timex people.
Take a lickin’ and keep on tickin.”
I enjoy music and art of the olden days,
appreciate stories written in past times,
and very old architecture.
I don’t enjoy old, moldy things,
old jokes that weren’t good in the first place,
old ideas that restricted or excluded people.
Getting older myself,
my goal is to occasionally be as outspoken as “Maude”.
Considering the alternative,
getting old isn’t a bad thing.
You have experience, knowledge,
and the advantage of comparing present events
to past ones.
What once might have thrown you
doesn’t do that now.
An event, person, or idea
may still be annoying or distasteful,
but you’ll survive it in good shape.
©2012 Franja Russell
i am old inside my skin
not that is it young but
all things being relative
perhaps it is really that my skin
is only old
but what i feel is ancient
not old like a worn out shoe
or last weeks news or
the clothes in my closet
so hopelessly out dated
they they are ahead of their time
given fashion runs in cycles
old like the oak tree
ancient
hoary
someone misplaced in time
watching a world disjointed
out of place and longing
for a past so distant
it is hidden in the haze of
half remembrance
i am old inside my skin
and forgotten
©2012 serene bechir
The old man lit his pipe and shifted in his seat. He could see the lights of St. Ives flickering on the water giving the night a magical air. Bodie was restless he had refused his chicken dinner – something almost unheard of – and was seemingly nonchalant about taking his evening walk.
“What is it, boy?” The old man asked.
The dog didn’t respond but continued to gaze out over the harbour, his ears fixed in a state of readiness.
“She’s gone, boy… we have to accept it.”
©2012 Harriet Gausman
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