Memed from lost_spook
- Pick five fandoms. List them in alphabetical order.
- Visit this site to find
your first RANDOM POEM OF POWER. Write down the 5th line (yes, even if it's an
E.E. Cummings poem and you wind up with an apostrophe). Repeat five times
and — you guessed it — list 'em in alphabetical order! (No
cheating, mind! This is a challenge and it's always been about creativity.)
- I think you can see where this is going. Write a very quick 50-word
half-drabble for each fandom (try to do it all in one sitting - make your
brain explode!), using the line from the poem as a prompt. You don't have to
include it in the half-drabble - it's just inspiration.
- Bravo! Have a cookie.
This time round the poem randomiser seems to have got stuck on Emily Dickinson. And would you believe it, I ended up with exactly the same prompt for
Doctor Who as lost_spook did!
Adam Adamant Lives! : And as the Rose appears, [I have a Bird in spring, Emily Dickinson]
Whenever Adam's on the case,
Battling the Face,
Is her rendezvous;
Her procedures no-one knows—
Anywhere he goes,
She'll emerge there too.
Fair as a rose in midsummer,
'Ware what experience warns:
If you should plan to secure such a flower
And she's under your power...
Beware of her thorns.
And So To Murder, Carter Dickson : and fall to earth into indifferent ponds. [Duino Elegies: The Fourth Elegy, Rainer Maria Rilke]
Drenched and half drowned, in her most desperate need,
Monica struggled through the ooze and weed.
Arriving at a run, Bill viewed the scene.
"Swimming?" he asked. "I fear you found it keen."
Her ire unquenched, she shook her fist at him.
"You fool, Bill Cartwright! Someone pushed me in!"
Doctor Who : It aims once—kills once—conquers once— ['Twas fighting for his Life he was— , Emily Dickinson]
Van Statten's men fired wildly, but the Dalek kept its pace;
Turning one way and another, the hapless guards to face.
Without haste it picked its targets, and loosed its fatal ray,
As one by one the guardians expired in the passageway,
And their shouting and detonations died fitfully away.
Northanger Abbey, Jane Austen : Or that I'd ask the sorcerers [You Thought I Was That Type, Anna Akhmatova]
Susceptible was Catherine's mind,
And to wild stories she inclined.
Her love for tales abstruse and wild
Had sunk in deeply as a child.
Her husband asked her, on a whim,
How the oak tree had lost a limb.
No witch or wizard was excluded
When Catherine her report concluded.
P G Wodehouse : This whole Experiment of Green— [A little Madness in the Spring, Emily Dickinson]
McAllister flung down his trowel
And his dour face now darkened.
At his lord's back he aimed a scowl
As to his words he hearkened:
"This is my command, that you must do
"Though it cause endless travail:
"Lay only moss beneath the yew,
"And think no more of gravel."