The Scene of the Crime

and let's unveil your greatest alibi
as I watch you return to the scene of the crime
let's ask all your witnesses that will swear
that you were somewhere else that night
and I will stay awake and mine eyes won't rest,
I'll seek out the clues, may my efforts be blessed
I'll follow the trails till I find all the proof that I need
to relieve this ache from my chest

{ Cincinnati Rail Tie }

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pospreterito: young man in black with a red tie against a red wall (Default)
[ pos.pɾe'te.ɾi.to ]
pospreterito: kneeling, black-clad man holding a woman in a lake red dress' hand ({relationships} ..i will do what you ask)
wrote a song. somehow despite it being 1:30am and full of blaring music, me full of headache and possibly slightly inebriated, i woke up this morning and the tune still worked.

did you know i only do optimism when i'm angry? i used to be a natural pessimist but now i am fucking furious so to spite all you hopeless misanthropists i am sure as hell that everything is going to be all right.

with thanks to actual person 084 and horse ebooks we present a song about the cartographer and the king bearing the title of:

defeating entropy with love and a fistful of nuclear warheads: the memory, the motion picture (it twines around your throat to whisper remix)

otherwise known as 'the teeth song'. )

EDIT:
[teeth song] demo by Al & the Dark Materials
pospreterito: reads "saint stephen [the city without maps]" ({stories} ..saint stephen with a rose)

03/07/2012

form: villanelle
meter: iambic heptameter. i think.
why: i was bored, angry, and lonely
success rate: uh okay...? i mean, i wrote it to have a villanelle i can sing ("the one i can sing.txt") and built the tune around a your mom crack i made at an episode of supernatural and then didn't even use the rest of the line, s... o...
weird title? Y oh my god sufjan stevens when did you start doing titles for me cut it out i can do it myself

When Your Loved Ones Flinch At The Name Of God


'written in a block-breaking stupor from 00:05 to 00:26' say my notes )


08/07/2012

form: sestina
meter: iambic tetrameter
why: i was bored, angry, and lonely
success rate: sure why not (not sure what i think of it, but I WROTE A SESTINA, BOW DOWN, basically)
weird title? Y, but informs rest of poem

I've never liked Job


while coming up with the six words: 'god this is horrible i hate you all hm mm what is this, a conman being reprimanded? Hmm mm mm' )


09/07/2012

form: terzanelle
meter: reverse iambic hexameter
why: i was bored, angry, and lonely
success rate: it didn't end up conveying quite what i wanted it to. admittedly, what i wanted it to may have been overly complicated, seeing as i can't seem to explain it in anything less obtuse than... dresden files metaphors... good example of why i shouldn't be allowed to write personal poetry, can't do that thing and god knows how obersy et al manage it.
weird title? Y

"What are you going to major in?"
------------------- Or ----------------------
If the World Wins Out


you must have some idea )


22/07/2012

form: english sonnet seven couplets because someone got the rhyme scheme for a sonnet wrong
meter: iambic pentameter
why: i was bored, angry, and lonely
success rate: ??? i started with a tweet of david malki!'s and got a distraction. win...?
weird title? Y (however, the titles not in capslock don't count, they're more notes-to-self, but they're at the top of the page so here you go)

OPTIMISM
(when the lights go out I'll still believe in you; come hell or high water I'm not going into politics; with thanks to Alan Turing and Ada Lovelace)


rewritten so many times, but it took my mind off of trouble i got my own self into by having the emotional range of a teaspoon and the maturity level of my enemies divided by each other )
pospreterito: two hands conjuring fire ({stories} ..dae fire and fire)
(a partial listing, two nights' worth, from back in january, and sometimes he talked faster than i could keep up because the world is cruel to me; not to be confused with Things Robyn Hitchcock Says Without A Microphone, or indeed Things Bill Rieflin Says Without A Microphone, although the latter involve superheroes too)


a friday and a saturday to be specific )
pospreterito: black silhouette with white fire in one hand, green background ({stories} ..bracketverse arcturus)
"Yes," Arcturus says, and turns. "Hey, thing. Stop that. Say bye properly."

Tabot stares at him like he must be a madman. Sam's certainly not going to argue with that. "What?"

"I said, say bye properly. Like this: 'Bye properly'."

"Okay." Tabot tilts his head to one side, then says, "Bye properly. Bye Sam. I'll come by in undetermined time period for reasons other than being pursued and introduce myself when things are less hectic, I guess."

"Why'd he get a name?" Arcturus sulks. He turns to Sam instead of watching Tabot walk out the cracked glass doors. "Why'd you get a name?"

Sam shrugs one shoulder. "It's your own fault," he says, which would be a valid answer to almost every complaint Arcturus has ever made.

i'll just be over here drowning in miserable dramatic irony, if that's all right with you.

(also, anyone interested in test-reading a ~30k bracketverse novella? it looks like i might finish it this month, all of a year and 2/9 after i started the damn thing.)