Old 02-21-2014, 10:37 PM   #1
UnderYourSpell
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Teach-in Write an Epistle

I've left you alone far too long it's about time for another Teach-in. This will be a learning curve for me too but it looks like it could be fun, just the place to be witty hopefully as I know you all can be. So I hope you will join in.

How to write an Epistle
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Blessed are the cracked for it is they that let in the light
They say a smile is a gift which is free to the giver and precious to the recipient.
But giving the finger is free, too, and I find it more personal and sincere.
If at first you don't succeed....skydiving is not for you ....
If you don't pay your exorcist .... do you get repossessed?
I shall always decide not to decide, unless of course I decide to change my mind.
....But I, being poor, have only my dreams, I have spread my dreams under your feet,Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.......
Nil Caborundum illigitimi
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Old 02-22-2014, 01:45 PM   #2
champagne1982
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John Hewitt's epistle Notes to Shelly that you linked to there simply blew me away. I'm now intimidated but will give the project some thought. Maybe I'll pen something to my Cardio-Thoracic surgeon...
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Old 02-22-2014, 01:49 PM   #3
greenmountaineer
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Letter to a Fallen Evangelist

Dear James,

In the beginning was the Word,
but the word became a four letter scourge
broadcast around the world
from your former reach around girl,
scorned and angry in battle dress
on major network news magazines
revealing bogus memberships
that sound-bite slapped your mascara wife
whose temples cracked like stone tablets
when roundtable pundits attacked
as if you were a golden calf.

Before the day they hauled away
your televangelic voice,
white haired ladies stayed up late,
telephones rang like nickel slots,
floor men wheedled altar calls
to be slain by you in the spirit,
and Noah's ark park opened early.
On the Sabbath it closed at eight.

His kingdom come to think of it, James,
what do you have say
as the U.S. marshals whisk you away
since your crocodile tears once staged for tithing
are as real as the steel in your cage?

Last edited by greenmountaineer : 03-04-2014 at 01:35 PM. Reason: Typo
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Old 02-22-2014, 04:54 PM   #4
UnderYourSpell
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Goodness that's class, I was going to go for something along the lines of;

Dear Youth,
Hurtling down my street
wearing no helmet
on your off road motorbike,
completely against the law
with no number-plate
and undoubtedly no insurance.
Is it really unkind for me
to hope you come a cropper,
before you mow down some child
or pensioner not nimble enough
to get out of your way?
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Blessed are the cracked for it is they that let in the light
They say a smile is a gift which is free to the giver and precious to the recipient.
But giving the finger is free, too, and I find it more personal and sincere.
If at first you don't succeed....skydiving is not for you ....
If you don't pay your exorcist .... do you get repossessed?
I shall always decide not to decide, unless of course I decide to change my mind.
....But I, being poor, have only my dreams, I have spread my dreams under your feet,Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.......
Nil Caborundum illigitimi
Sestina slut
Annie submits
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Old 02-23-2014, 04:47 AM   #5
todski28
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dear society,

travelling around in 26 degrees today,
no breeze, no freeze perfect splendour
past the parks midday no dark
and it is absent of all but grass
slightest rustles
gather dust empty husks
of the empathy invoked by child laughter
when did we get so busy,
or so scared
or so something
that the places where happy faces should reside
are casting shadows of the grave
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Old 02-23-2014, 10:10 AM   #6
champagne1982
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A Letter To My Future Surgeon

Struggle though I might, my breath is sometimes laboured from nothing more than making my chest, my lungs, my diaphragm work together. My lips, I've noticed, are plum and even without trying I look like a blurry goth, not as well defined with purple shadows on my upper lids, instead, deeply pooled below my eyes and the transient grey of my complexion is given some variegation simply through being hollow under my bones.

When I was younger, my heart would race like it does on occassion now. A smile from my lover, the thrill of standing on a precipice ready to hurl myself down a wildly tilted slope with no tracks to follow except those I was about to leave behind could stir it into a similar flutter. Do you know that feeling? It's like your body is filled with a drummer on speed and he's in the middle of a solo that just - won't - quit.

So, enough about me. I want to address some questions to you now:
What is it about you that makes it possible for the idea of killing me, holding me suspended, altering me, then brutally jolting me back into this cold shell, not to scare the living shit out of you?

Do you sleep at night and dream of someone reaching into your life and squeezing until you are forced to enter into stasis and hang there until your beloved torturer coaxes you to come back, that all he's done has been for your own good?

Is love what motivates you? Money isn't likely an issue. What you do allows for no time to truly spend it all anyway.

Is my thanks enough?
Well, I'll be seeing you in a few years from now. My other life-bringer has left you an easy field to work with, just be careful with the spreaders on that bit of cartilege separated from the ribs over my heart. Oh! and this time? Can someone take care of that hernia he opened up when I was in the shop on that warranty job a few years back?

I look forward to seeing you when it's time. Let's enjoy this period apart to the fullest and that way, we'll be ready for whatever hell we fall into together then.
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Old 03-03-2014, 04:04 PM   #7
Tsotha
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To whomever finds this note,

I leave this journal in hope that something can be learned and changed.

Day 1:

Each year, it is the same.
I have barricaded myself inside with large quantities of food,
but still they come, in through the television.
The voices. The music. Driving me mad.
Any sarau can turn out to be one of their trojan horses.
I resign myself; I can't stop them, I can only endure.
At least I have Netflix.

Day 2:

They are out on the street tonight, making noise.
Wiggling their bodies, clearly mad.
Their war drums can be heard from a distace,
beating to the ancient tune of some fertility goddess,
or maybe some drunkard god.
Horns and cavacos can be faintly heard,
but the voices,
oh the voices.
They are loud as they go by, unintelligible,
laughing and shrieking in turn.
At night, I cover my ears and surround myself with the power of music,
playing some good old-fashioned rock 'n roll.
Just keeping myself sane, another day.

Day 3:


I walked outside during daylight and saw the destruction.
(It's safe to go out; they are all sleeping.)
I saw broken bottles and tiny cuts of glittery paper in every possible color,
like a rainbow left on the street.
You can spot other survivors like me. They walk by with
dark spots under their eyes, restless.
Others have some strange energy to them, going nowhere, their minds
on auto-pilot. Those poor bastards don't realize, but it's too late for them.
I look through the blinds and see beautiful women walking by, chased by men.
It's a contagion. They multiply too fast.
Every night there is less of us, and more of them.
When will this madness end?

Day 4:

There is no hope.
The drums are too loud. The music is maddening.
I wonder where everyone has gone. My booze is missing, too.
Yesterday they came back with happy faces,
without a single worry in the world. Even if they have so much to worry about.
I cannot win. Might as well join them.
One last fight.
To remember the old times.
I remove my top hat and monocle, and prepare my liver.
Carnaval, here I come.

(Not to be taken seriously.)
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Old 03-03-2014, 05:43 PM   #8
UnderYourSpell
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My town holds the largest one day Carnival in Europe
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Blessed are the cracked for it is they that let in the light
They say a smile is a gift which is free to the giver and precious to the recipient.
But giving the finger is free, too, and I find it more personal and sincere.
If at first you don't succeed....skydiving is not for you ....
If you don't pay your exorcist .... do you get repossessed?
I shall always decide not to decide, unless of course I decide to change my mind.
....But I, being poor, have only my dreams, I have spread my dreams under your feet,Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.......
Nil Caborundum illigitimi
Sestina slut
Annie submits
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Old 03-03-2014, 10:34 PM   #9
Tsotha
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One day? Damn, you're lucky.
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Old 03-04-2014, 11:33 AM   #10
twelveoone
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Dear literoticans,

Writing can be such a pain in the ass
I have better things to do
and I'm late for proctology class

Best Rearguards
eh?

reason for edit aesthetics

Last edited by twelveoone : 03-05-2014 at 02:26 PM.
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Old 03-24-2014, 11:32 AM   #11
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Epistle to the bflagsstites

Like the god Vishnu, my poems will have a hundred arms, and these arms will give the people hands to clap with.
Assuming they don't have the clap to begin with.

-O Joly Meo
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