Hi guys, so for this blog post, I'm going to give you a few options. (I recently made myself a dream catcher, and lately I've been having a lot of strange and silly dreams. I suppose that is where all of this is coming from.)
You can write a poem, short story, lyrics, whatever you choose. This is just supposed to be a fun little experience of looking at things from a different perspective.
You only have to answer at least one of these prompts:
Prompt 1: For this one, you write in the perspective of a non-living object, such as an old child's bike sitting in the garage, or if you wish to expand on that, a house telephone being ignored by its house occupants. You could go through a quick life of this object or give it emotions.
Prompt 2: I know we have a few people in the class interested in dead things (I'm talking about The Walking Dead here) so for this prompt, try writing in the perspective of... Wait for it... Zombies! Or any other supernatural creature you desire. Just nothing too gory please.
Prompt 3: All of us I'm sure have had strange dreams throughout our life, being random and crazy and completely unrealistic, so for this prompt, all I'm asking of you guys is to recreate that dream, except in the perspective of something else. So for example, if you ever had a silly dream about a dancing, talking banana, maybe tell a scene from the perspective of a dancing, talking banana!
Remember, this is just to be a fun experience for letting some imaginative juices flow and for all of us to practice perspectives, so don't take anything seriously and just let your mind go!
I stood in the center of the large round room, which would soon become the tomb of many.
ReplyDeleteI rubbed a few of my eight, black legs together as I clicked my pintchers together three times.
Single file, a line of people entered the room, dazed and unaware of my presents. Except for one, a little boy, about seven years old.
For the reason that he knew what was going on I did not attack him. Instead I tore the limbs from the man next to the boy and ate them.
I did the same to each of the others, leaving the boy to torture his mind.
When I was finished with my feast and only the boy was left alive I let the door open. He ran.
By the way this is prompt 3.
DeleteThis gave me the creeps...
DeleteThis is terrifying Kevin... I don't know if I could admit I could like it or not because it's spider related!
DeleteJust for a starting point, i imagine every room i read a book in is my room, then let it morph depending on the setting given. now what am i going to imagine while sleeping tonight? oh yeah, that's right! A SPIDER POPPING MY HEAD OFF LIKE BARBIE DOLL.
DeleteFreaky Kevin! Holy cow that's creepy!
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ReplyDeleteI lay here encased in blue velvet. I was once cherished, once loved as though the world could not spin without my existence, without my melody. Oh how I long for those beautiful fingers to caress my forgotten wood. I yearn for the graceful sensation of bow hairs across my four tendons. For the marriage of rosin and medal. I miss the tears of joy running down the proud mother's face as my song pulled them down her cheeks. How I wish I could be released from this velvet tomb and come alive with rhythm and beat. My notes dancing through a room. I am old though, and forgotten. I miss the twinkling of a star and Mary's lamb, and Danny Boy, and Mozart, and Bach... I miss the hours we spent together, and the frustration you felt when you messed up, but mostly the joy on your face when you mastered the emotion and grace of a composition.
ReplyDeletePlease remember me
Because I haven't forgotten you.
-From the perspective of my violin
Very compelling! I like it :)
DeleteReally good job evoking emotion. "As my song pulled them down her cheeks" was uhg yaaass so beautiful
DeleteThat was really good, I liked it.
DeleteAlright, since blogger does not have italics, just pretend that the words with random capitals, (i.e. They) are in italics.
ReplyDeleteI cradle little figures painted bright and new, shaped into familiar landmarks, characters, and objects, all smiling, all shining, all drowning. They treasure me, and although I am made of glass, They do not hesitate to grip me between their oily paws and shake me as if I were a stubborn bottle of ketchup. The once clear water stirs, and I find myself in a swirling maelstrom of glitter and paper.
"Stop! Stop! When will it stop?!" Cry the grinning figures within, while They breathe oohs and aahs at our terror. Just as the storm starts, it stops. Yet again, the raging waters can smooth, and the plastic shards settle back in their usual nooks and crannies. Sculptures sigh, (and so do I!) however, our relief lasts but a millisecond. Again, a set of hands lifts, grips, and shakes, and sets me back down. This endless action is what They call entertainment- I scoff at the word.
Who on earth shakes a globe full of fake snow for Fun?
Flat companions are mine. It is tedious work to support ones with no riveting factors. Most soles are trained on me, at least when the occupant hasn't toppled, the occupant of the sole. at times, in special peaks of visitation from elements, attention is so kindly graced upon my anemic visage. A harsh scouring for a fifth the daylight's time and a conscious thought of me is forgotten, til the dampness recedes. I begin and end in the convex and concave surfaces of borders.
ReplyDeleteBut my my, from down here, does the world have such a view...
(Prompt 1)
The hard, ground earth is beneath me. The constant thumps of humans and creatures alike are drawing nearer. Then I am ricocheting through the air to a certain doom. Falling is a weird sensation, but this happens all the time when these monsters decided they are going to kick me as they walk by. Oh, I long for the day when a young creature picks me up and takes me with it. The cycle of kick, fly, and fall continues. Then I am out of reach of the creature, and finally I am left alone.
ReplyDelete(Prompt 1)
I'm trying to guess what you took the perspective of and I just cannot figure it out. I want to say a ball? Or like a rock that you sometimes kick when your walking then forget about?
DeleteI feel as if this a about a soccer ball..?
DeleteI kinda feel like maybe this is a can or a ball. It's really good, I like it ^u^
DeleteIt is a rock that gets kicked around by people
DeleteMy hunger is growing stronger each time I look out at the delicious organs running around.
ReplyDeleteThey speak of hormones and feelings and wants. Those desires aren't to be felt for me.
I only want one thing from them, a desire that will feed my unsouled body who can only get hungrier and hungrier.
I want their lives to be sold to my nonworking belly
Hooman, Hooman, stop. Don't touch me. I am queen of this household. Don't pick me up you peasant. Put me down or feel the wrath of my claws. What? What is this flash you are shining on me? Are you taking a selfie? Hooman, you have three seconds,
ReplyDelete1...
2...
3...
HOOMAAAN
I don't know why you're crying, I told you. I meowed very annoyed. How did you not see that coming? you stupid hooman. I shall leave you.
Hooman? Stop crying.
Stahp. Oh, look what you've done. The dog is now barking. Wow. Where is my water? Hooman, cry into my water bowl for the queen is thirsty. I wish to drink the tears of the weak.
Hi I'm Haley the hippo. I care why? I thought you were new I'm sorry. Its fine I have been here for a while now. What are you doing in here. I'm hiding. From what? Well I was suppose to be giving a speech but I got scared so I ran in here and I've been here ever since. Well I'm sure you will be fine but I have to go back to class. See you around.
ReplyDeleteI am broken. I feel like like no one uses me anymore. I get my hopes us, wishing someone would pick me. Everyone around me gets picked, but me. My dreams of ever making it to the paper get crushed, as the box closes one more time. Time and time again the box opens and closes, but never once do I get chosen. My heart, shatters and breaks each and every time.
ReplyDeleteMy painted eyes go on staring. I used to be a source of joy to everyone. Last I saw of her, she was around the age of 10 and she threw me in an attic. I don't know how many years have passed, or if anyone knows I'm still here. I waited for her to come back, pick me up and smile. But nothing. Until one day I see someone enter out of the corner of my eye. It's her! She came back! But, she looks too old. She lifts me up gently, and I look at her. She turns and carries me down the steps down the stairs. She calls a name and someone comes running. A little girl? She kneels down and places me in the hands of the little girl. "Be careful with this, Emily. She was Mommy's favorite toy." She says. The little girl nods and turns to walk away, me gripped tightly in her hand.
ReplyDeleteReminds me of toy story. The first line, "my painted eyes go on staring" is quite intriguing, because I knew the narrator was a doll right away, yet you did not mention the word doll at all.
DeleteMy daughter is standing on the ice. I feel this strong need to save her, she can't fall in. I start walking toward her, with every step i take the ice cracks a little. I'm almost to her when the ice completely collapses and i fall in. I feel my body warm up and I'm confused. I feel my body warp into something i am unfamiliar with. I don't know why, but i am angry. I leap out of the water and see myself in by daughter's petrified eyes. I am a shark, and i can't stand to look at her. She hates me, and now i hate her. I circle her under the ice and when i see her take off for the edge of the cave I shoot out of the water and slide up to her. I bite her leg and the sweet taste of blood tastes so good. I need more. I flop on the ice because i can't breathe. the Ice shatters and we both fall in. The ice turns red and i wake up.
ReplyDeleteNo one will ever believe what you are, who you were, or even care what you will be. It's a fact you cant escape, nor can you choose your own destiny. So being fair enough, you are just living. Your a breathing, fretless creature. A turn of events in the strangest possible way isn't it? Now your the one behind the red curtain, except for you, this is your finale.
ReplyDeleteI can't take it any more.
ReplyDeleteconstantly being used for other peoples comfort.
The abuse me and leave me sore day after day.
Even the dog has its share.
I'm tired of being
just the chair.
I miss the days of play
ReplyDeleteI was happy then.
Snuggled in her arms,
is where I wish to stay.
I watched her grow from young to older.
from beautiful to bolder.
A fine young women indeed,
can I ask one thing?
please will you play with me?
My wings do not flutter anymore, i try and try to flap them but i cannot. They are too tightly binded by this corse, scratchy rope. I can't tell if it's night or day. It's too dark up here in this small room. I want her to come back and untie me, to play with me like she use to, but i know she won't. I don't know how long I've been in this small room, but one day a tunnel of light magically appears. She appears before me, finally she has come! She has come for me after so long! I'm filled with such joy! She grows closer and as she comes towards me i realized she has changed. Her skin is no longer soft and smooth, but wrinkled and worn. Her shining, bright eyes have become dull and lifeless. The once young and bright girl i knew has aged and grown old. She reaches for me, unbinds my sore wings and carries me out of the small, dark room. Bright light engulfs me and blinds me momentarily; we are then both standing in front of a young girl. She looks like my girl, how she use to be. The girl smiles happily at my girl and it fills my heart with love once more. My girl holds me out to the young girl and says, "This was grandma's favorite doll as a child and i want you to have it Iris. Cherish her well because grandma is still very fond of her". The young girl nods enthusiastically and reaches for me with care. She hugs me tight to her chest and hugs my girl as thank you. I have a new girl and an old girl, i am finally happy. i have finally found my home once more.
ReplyDeleteI staired down at my nimble fingertips tapping rhythms into the tablecloth. It was strange to think that the same fingertips could move the oceans. I was still adjusting to the power that corse threw my veins, still learning to control the tremors of adrenaline that sent my body into overdrive. Any spark of raw emotion could send me over the edge. The tapping became faster forfeiting it's rhythm for the calming affects of motion. Why had the universe choosen me to be this way? I glanced around the room partially out of paranoia witch seemed to follow me like a shadow, and partially out of curiosity. What would it be like to sit in class with ought having to worry about making the light panels shatter? To be able to speak freely with your parents instead of coating seeds of truth in lies. Blissful this was the answer that jealousy gave but my body had a different answer mundane. It was strange to think that the word had ever applied to me, and yet it had only been a month. Still time did nothing to tarnish the feeling of power cursing threw my fingertips, but as intoxicating as it was time had also sealed to change my eminent doom. It's truly funny how all the best things are plaged with deamons. Granted nothing is funny when you know your going to die.
ReplyDelete