My Weekly Writing Challenge

Is your writing stuck in a rut this week? Then why not let my latest writing challenge get your creative juices flowing?:

Option one: Write a limerick with the word PARTY in it somewhere

Option two: Write a poem on the theme of SUMMER

Option three: Write a twenty-word story using all of the following words: BOB, TIRADE, MYTH, NOSE, METTLE and CRESCENDO

Last week option one was to write a limerick with the word LOVE featuring in it somewhere. Here are the results –

Jason Moody has written a lovely little ditty:

Before you decide that ‘you do’
Be sure to your love you are true
In sickness and health
Be it poor or with wealth
Be their rock, their strength, their glue.

Keith Channing‘s limericks are simply brilliant:

The cynic

I frequently sit up and wonder
Why my heart has been riven asunder
Is this really love,
This push and this shove,
Or just a great big, cosmic blunder?

And yet we keep on taking seriously
The notion we hold to deliriously
That love will win through;
It ain’t always true,
Though for many it is, mysteriously!

We marry ‘till death us do part’
And then we get bored – have a heart!
The first love is best,
But as for the rest,
They could be doomed, right from the start.

Love is a four-letter word.
So, for that matter, is turd.
Though love inspires art
We end up in Walmart,
Now, don’t you think that is absurd?

It really should be no surprise
That so many will come to despise
The loves of their lives,
Their husbands and wives.
(My limericks, of course, are all lies.)

Graeme Sandford‘s comes with a warning:

WARNING STRONG LANGUAGE

My ‘maybe a bit too near the nuckle’ ‘love’ Limerick –

Love is a four-letter word
And an anagram of ‘vole’ so I’ve heard
But, and here I will swear,
You’d better love her with care,
Or else she’ll f*** off with some t***!

Option two was to write a poem on the theme of SONG:

Jason Moody’s poem is uplifting and brings a smile:

If it’s in your heart, then let it go
Release the feeling, put it on show
Don’t bottle it, and hide the thing
Let it fly, let’s hear you sing

Better now? Can you feel the song?
Embrace it, enjoy it, there’s nothing wrong
When you have a song, when you trust its words
The let it out, let it be heard.

Watch out for Geoff Le Pard‘s belter of a last line:

My life in music

Down the years
Over some beers
I’ve discussed my musicology
But most of my mates
Have been quick to state
I’ve an embarrassing discography

Starting quiet late
I sealed my fate
By preferring ballads to rock
I tried to improve
But they laughed at my groove
As I said I’d become a punk jock

I pogoed and spat
And took no sort of crap
Even if I’d become rather frantic
But I gave it away
By wearing one day
Eye liner: a new romantic

As I passed down the years
Though Tears for Fears
From Cher to Kirsty McColl
I’d did my best
To try to impress
But they told me I knew bugger all

I know it’s not true
I do have a clue
I now have immaculate taste
On this my word’s final
Even if I buy vinyl
I no longer have breath to waste

See I still cut the mustard
Following Buble and Busted
I’m hip with my cool selection
I may be an old fart
But I’m still young at heart
As I scream ‘I love One Direction’.

Option three was for you to write a twenty-word story using all of the following words: BIEBER, ALIAS, VORTEX, BILATERAL, LACONIC and TURGID:

Jason Moody said he found the words tough, but you’d never think it:

Bieber’s music was sent to the turgid vortex. The laconic bilateral agreement was signed by his alias too. Lucky, eh?

“Laconic, bilateral, turgid. What do they mean?” asked Justin.

“Bieber? Has your head been in a vortex” said his Alias.

 EDC Writing has produced a super story:

‘Alias just in case hormonal vortex ensues. Bieber mama don’t like, laconic not her, turgid oh yes, bilateral never works!’

Helen Jones‘ is hilarious:

Laconic Bieber writes more turgid lyrics, gets sucked into a bilateral vortex forever. Alias: Things I Wish Would Really Happen.

***

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37 Responses to My Weekly Writing Challenge

  1. Rajiv says:

    Here is mine, Esther

    The crescendo of cacophony voices broke Bob’s nose. The myth that he could hold his mettle against noise was shattered.

  2. Just a quickie while I think of something.

    First we must invite Russell Harty
    And never forget Moriarty
    Once we have that pair
    We’re near halfway there
    To the world’s most exceptional party.

  3. Okay. Here’s the full set. To be published tomorrow as My latest party-piece

    First we must invite Russell Harty
    And never forget Moriarty.
    Once we have that pair
    We’re near halfway there
    To the world’s most exceptional party.

    When moving into a new city
    You must choose a house that is pretty.
    A party’s a must
    To gain neighbours’ trust
    If not, your new life will be… erm… gritty?

    When faced with a boss who’s imperious,
    Whose attitude is deleterious,
    You must remain hearty,
    Accept life’s a party
    And not something that should be serious.

    The parties have made their selection
    After round upon round of rejection.
    The doves and the hawks
    Both accept money talks,
    But they’ll still never win the election.

    A shrewd speculator invested
    In a seat that was safe – uncontested.
    The party believed
    That it was well conceived,
    But it hadn’t been properly tested.

  4. Rajiv says:

    Okay… Summer

    In the West, they love the summer
    In India, it can be a bummer.
    They love the sun right after the winter,
    But here, it burns us to a small cinder.

    This year it is hot – hotter than ever,
    Memories of pleasant days have gone forever.
    Our world is burning, who is to blame?
    God, The Devil, or man – who bears the shame?

    We blame El Nino, we blame the sun,
    Then we blame Nature for spoiling our fun.
    We drain the taps; we think we’re cool.
    Then cry when there’s no water to fill the pool.

    Our need for goods just grows and grows,
    To feed us, the factories, they blow the fumes.
    We ask ourselves why – why is summer so hot?
    In our web of greed, we are always caught.

    “It burns us, it burns us”, cried poor Smeagol
    No Elven rope, our deeds burn us all.
    But we need our summer, the sun is good,
    It feeds us, it nourishes us, and gives us our food.

    So, let’s not blame God, nor The Devil himself,
    Let’s put blaming fingers back on the shelf.
    The animals and plants can hold us to treason
    If we continue to spoil, this very special season.

  5. Le Fragi says:

    Party Limerick #1

    If I write you a Limerick about a party
    And it’s good I will feel such a smarty
    But, if it’s not
    And the party is grot
    Then I may just have to go back to the starty.

    Party Limerick #2

    A party once held in East Finchley
    Was never mentioned in Limericks
    I wonder why
    Maybe it’s because
    East Finchley is not that easy to rhyme.

    Party Limerick #3

    The cake and the jelly were flowing
    The music showed no sign of slowing
    But, then, the worst
    The big bubble burst
    And the politicians denied what they were knowing.

    G:)

  6. Jason Moody says:

    “Argos. Terrible service, it’s no myth.” Groaned Bob, nose slightly out of joint.

    His mettle tested, his tirade, a crescendo.

  7. Jason Moody says:

    Summer

    I’ve waited a while
    For you to show
    We’ve put up with wind
    Rain and some snow

    We’ve been rather British
    And simply made do
    So we ask you again
    What time are you due?

    My swim trunks are crumpled
    Asleep in a drawer
    They’re doing nowt
    Not what they’re made for

    My milk bottle legs
    They long for some rays
    Sat on soft beaches
    For long lazy days

    So when are you coming?
    This waiting is a bummer
    Yesterday you teased
    Now, can we please have a summer?

  8. Pingback: Thoughts on the bomb #poetry #poem | TanGental

  9. Le Fragi says:

    Party Limerick #5a and #5b and #5c (parts 1&2) and #5d

    I’m on the party line listening to your conversation
    The year is nineteen seventy one in this nation
    I was calling my girl
    Now my head’s in a whirl
    As I struggle to comprehend your elation

    You had a cake and some jelly
    Watched the black and white telly
    Played games
    Kissed James
    But, not Nigel, because he is smelly

    I’m Nigel and at your party I had some cake
    Sang ‘Happy Bugday’ and stepped on a rake
    Fell into your pond
    And if you, I was fond
    But, I think that I made a mistake
    By spraying myself with Mum’s perfume
    From a bottle I found in her room
    Channel no.5 it did say
    So I did gleefully spray
    The whole of myself – thus my doom

    Is to be thought of as a smell and to annoy
    Whose reeking was not greeted with joy
    That’s why outside
    I was seeking to hide
    Until I floated in your pond like a buoy

    G:)

  10. Le Fragi says:

    Party Limerick #4a and #4b

    Parties come and parties go
    Some in the sun some in the snow
    By the pool
    Act the fool
    Jelly and ice cream, cake and co.

    That’s not really a Limerick about a party
    I was just being clever, trying to be a smarty
    But, you know it’s my way
    It how I am on my birthday
    Oh, no, that is next week, silly tart, me!

    Party Limerick #6

    There once was a man at this party
    Who looked just like the late Russell Harty
    I said ‘Are you him’
    He said ‘Are you dim?
    He’s been dead for some years – but, hey, in his honour let us party!’

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