Going to the Movies--NaPoWriMo 2017 - 3. Day 11 - Day 15

#11

As Val suggested, and because tonight is full moon, a moon poem! Loosely inspired by ‘A Grand Day Out!

Cracker without cheese.
Honey without bees.
Head cold without sneeze.
Oh, please!

The moon is made of cheese.
My honey needs no bees.
Instead of sneeze I freeze.
Oh, jeez!

This poem makes no sense.
But in my defense
The fun was immense.
Poets! No offence.

#12

Inspired by the ‘What Time is it?’ prompt and, loosely, by the movie ‘Vargtimmen’ (Hour of the Wolf) by Ingmar Bergman.

Four a.m.

The hour of the wolf,
where people die,
or wake up
shaken from nightmares.
Face your greatest fears,
sleeplessly wandering about,
shadows threaten to grab you,
pull you into the abyss.

Confess!

#13

Inspired by the prompt: An absurdist prose poem.

Gandalf tumbles into the abyss. His cloak swishes against my face, cold wind beats against my skin, while snow crystals rain down on me. Shivering, I lean against your warmth, when cheese sauce drips on my foot. My enraged gaze finds the tortilla chips-eating monster, and suddenly, by my silent command, the Balrog’s whip uncurls again, the menacing crack makes everyone cower into their seats, and I watch as it wraps itself around her neck and she vanishes. You gotta love 3D.

#14

Standing in line
I watch you from behind
see your hair reflecting the neon light blue,
leather creaks,
I smell cedar, and cinnamon,
hear your warm laughter
when the girl selling the tickets flirts with you
and you collect the change with a smile
then turn around and take my hand.
Yours.

#15

Inspired by the prompt: Green answers to blue questions

Does Frodo ‘love’ love Sam?
The subconscious mind connects threads one could never see but feel, worthy to be real not only in an alternate universe.

Will desensitization help Ron’s arachnophobia?
‘A diminished emotional responsiveness after repeated exposure’ protects us, but it also blinds us, makes us callous to the world’s cruelty.

To what music would Darth Vader dance?
Ta-da-da-da-da-daaa-ta-dum-ta-da…But when he put his arm around her, pressed her to his breast, cavorted with her in the shameless, indecent whirling-dance of the Germans and engaged in a familiarity that broke all the bounds of good breeding—then my silent misery turned into burning rage.(from: The History of Lady Sophia Sternheim)

Can we go to Harry’s Bar?
And Hemingway sits at his corner table, quoting from Across the River and into The Trees, and Venice weeps, putting the spring floods to shame.

Can I leave the cannoli too?
Noooooo!

Thank you for providing the prompts and your insightful help, Valkyrie!