Internet Exercise again!

Take a poem you like, get the last line and use it as the first line of a poem of your own


Poem used is Robert Blakes "A Little Boy Lost"


Read it HERE

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Are such things done on Albion's shore?
tragedy and misery
weeping parents, boys and girls
and nothing more?


Black and whites, now shades of grey
confuse us all, confuse night from day

no longer are the lines as clear
as they were in yesteryear,
but rather now they are a blur
Do you oppose these things, good sir?

If you do, stand up and fight!
Shout out it out with all your might!
Do the thing you think is right
if it fills you with delight!

But nay you say,
I can't, I won't!
Consequences far too grim
I'll be battered and alone.

Are such things done on Albion's shore?
A man's respect, his self-worth
put down, his horror someone's mirth

Quiet he stays, quiet he'll remain
he'll sit and watch and nothing more,
Are such things done on Albion's shore?


-LuisRmz
  7-16-2011
 4:54am

Too Tired for one from a book so, internet creative writing exercise!

I was gonna do a creative writing exercise today, but I'm too damn tired and I wanna wake up at a respectable hour tomorrow so let's just write something quick. 



Exercise write about an old photo (#14 of an old album)

I had to dig through myspace for this shit!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


There's nothing too deep or too remotely interesting to write about this photograph. It's us playing beer pong. But, still it makes me remember a time when life was simpler and a lot more fun than it is now. It was a time when everyone was in college, everyone was in town, everyone was a drunk. The drunken nights that we spent together aren't memorable because they were drunken nights, but rather they were memorable because we were a group of friends, that for better or for worse, were with each other. We went to school with each other, ate together, drank together, puked together, we cried together. The picture reminds me of a time when there was drama around us from ex girlfriends and current crushes and future flings and yet there were relationships blossoming within the midst of the chaos. It was during this time period that two couples met (who are now married by the way), it was during this time that my friendship with one of my best friends now was solidified through copious alcohol consumption, it was during this time that I drank way more than I ever should have, dated more than I should have, stuck around more than I should have. But, it was also a time when things were on the cusp of changing. At the time this particular picture was taken we were at the height of our flip-cup days. Lambda Chi Alpha fraternity flip cup champions of TAMIU. Unstoppable. But with the suspension looming over our heads and no active chapter to keep us together the brothers drifted away and only a few of us remained. Some pictured here. This picture portrays a point in time before I decided "to hell with you I need to get out of this fuckin' city, no state, no country!" and went to England. It was a point in time before I met a girl that, whether she knows it or not, changed my life in more ways than she can imagine. She changed my views on not only what a girl should be--or what I wanted a girl to be--but on what a person should be. Her free spirited nature and devil may care attitude blended with just the right amount of stressaholic in the right places proved to be blend that my heart has yet to match. She changed my outlook on life and love and really made me the person who I am now--or at least, released that side of me. My family said that she was like a girl me, I always took that as a compliment. She was the perfect girl at the perfect time but it was not a perfect match. I believe that people meet other people in their lives for a reason. Every person in your life plays a role in your life and a lot of times that role is over and life goes on. The players play their parts and exeunt stage left with only a memory remaining. This picture not only embodies and amazing time with amazing people but to me embodies a time before a pivotal turning point in my life. For better and for worse it was a simpler time.

Creative Writing Exercise #2: The 3AM Epiphany

Pick it up. Don't put it there, that's not where it goes. Open the cabinets and put it there. Of course it fits, that's where it always goes. Stop making excuses! Just move things around so it'll fit. No, leave the blue one there, that one needs to be there. Get all the little ones out of there.  Those are the mediums, move the small ones.  just leave it on the counter. Go play.  Stop standing there. Go play. Don't cry. Stop it! Please, stop it. Give me a hug. Okay, pick up your toys and go play. Now, come eat.  Come eat now, it's getting cold!  I don't care if you're chatting with your friends online, you are coming to eat with everyone!  No, don't get up, Dan, he'll listen.  Stephanie, set the table.  Steve go get your brother. Unplug the computer if you have too  and the X-box and take away his phone.   Thank you for joining us, grow out of your teenage years already--I've had enough angst with the other two I don't need yours also..and don't eyeball me.   We're having a Chinese dinner so I'm going to teach you all how to use chop sticks! Steph, your mouth, shut it, I don't need your smart remarks, young lady. You will learn how to use these things...you never know when they're useful.  Grab the first one like you're grabbing a pencil. Now, place the second one in between your thumb and forefing....Johnny get the doorbell.  Tell him we're not home...

Creative Writing Excercise #1

Okay so I promised myself I'd start writing so here i go!   

I'm getting these exercises from a book, aptly named, "The 3AM Epiphany" 

And here we gooo....
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Exercise #1

Adrenaline is flowing. Heart beats are slowly increasing as  the music comes to a close.   The crowd is cheering and booing, laughing, and yelling. The entrance way is set the lights are flashing, strobes are going on and off and the smoke machine is bellowing out plumes of artificial fog out from behind a curtain waiting for a body to  "Spartan, get ready!" someone yells.   Suddenly, it all disappears. None of it matters. There is no longer any crowd noise, the lights seem like but a flicker, the plume of smoke bellowing out now a mere obstacle to cut through on the way to glory. The music hits: an orchestra's string section playing in epic proportions, suddenly the percussion kicks and the chorus sings.  'Next Stop Everything" is what it's called and that's just what is waiting in the squared circle. Excitement, joy, pain, agony, thrills, nerves, all only a couple of hundred feet away. The curtain parts and there are the masses.  People young and old crowd the pavilion. Some boo, some cheer, some chant.  Posters and signs and t-shirts for their favorite warrior run rampant in the venue, but none of that matters. Through the smoke, under the arch and the beaming lights, slowly across the strobe I enter the arena and make way to the ring. There an opponent waits, lingers, prowls, no stalks and sizes up the competition all for the adulation of the crowd, like roman gladiators two men square of in a ring for the sheer thumbs up or thumbs down. There is no prize, there is no money, there is no fame but there is plenty of glory.  In the ring the gladiators square up *DING DING DING * The match starts. They jockey for position. Slams, bodies, elbows, kicks, and chairs all fly across the ring all with malicious intentions. 10 minutes later and a 1-2-3 and it's all over. The crowd cheers, the crowd boos: The warriors are both satisfied. In a world where both boos and cheers are signs of a job well done the warriors know that they have succeeded, the win a hollow one, as the true victory came for both men. They make their way to the back. Back to the now dim entrance, to whisps of smoke where there once was a wall, through the curtain into the dressing area and get set to do it all again.  

Writing Starts Now: Great detail writing.

So, I decided I need to find my love for writing again so everyday I'll be writing something on this blog. For now I'll stick to creative writing excercises and spare you my ramblings. Maybe ya'll can try them too! Enjoy! 


 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Writing prompt #1:  
Think of something in your room. Look at it. Now close your eyes and remember as many details as you can for three minutes. Now describe in as greatest detail as you can.  Go!
 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Starship enterprise. It sits a top of my television set.  It's a holder for a disc but it reminds me of so much more. It's a symbol for the hopes and dreams and aspiration of humankind. The never ending journey into the unknown.  The shape is familiar to most.  From left to right you start of with the saucer section. A disk like part of the ship that houses crew quarters, the main bridge and other unbeknownst sections of the ship. It's a light grey color and in the middle of the saucer there lies a smaller circle, a bump if you will that sticks out from the hull. This is the main bridge. It's sleek circular shape is emblazoned with the designation "USS Enterprise NCC-1701" the sleek design is accented with Starfleet insignia--red and gold arrows on the sides of it. The subtle lined and plated texture gives the ship a feel like it was put together in a ship yard and not from a mold. A couple of black dots on the ship represent the phaser banks that are used for defense.  At the end and bottom of this plate you find a neck.  It's angular and connects the saucer section from the main hull--an oblong section that houses the engineering section and to which the warp nacelles are attached.  Directly under the saucer section and the neck while still connected you have the main deflector dish. This dish is a brilliant blue color and it sinks in like a crater on the moon. The crater itself has indentations in it that gives it a striated appearance.  The lower hull is also emblazoned with the Starfleet insignia across its sides and a red stripe goes across it. The warp nacelles are cylindrical and are attached to either side of the hull towards the back.  They too have blue tips and are indented.  This ship--this magnificent ship that went from the mind of Gene Roddenberry to the silver screen to the hearts of millions around the world now represents what it's name means: Enterprise. The enterprising spirit of the human race--the race into space--and to be cliche--to boldly go where no one has gone before.  *cue theme song*

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was terrible! But I'm sleepy and I was determined to write something, anything. I'll see ya'll tomorrow! Give it a shot! 

Bodybuilding

No one understands the bodybuilder. No one understands why a seemingly sane person would put themselves through weeks, sometimes months of intense training and dieting. Training and dieting that pushes the person to the limits, drives them to the edge of sanity. No one one will ever understand why we revel in workouts that drive our body to failure, that leaves us grasping our legs in pain, with tears and sweat running down your face, pain shooting through the muscle fibers, blood dripping from old scabs--no, battle scars--blood dripping from old battle scars. No one understands why we eat the same thing day in and day out. Why we constantly mix powders, pop pills, drink liquids. Pre, post, intra, are all just prefixes to the outside world. Catabolic and anabolic are equally as estranged.

No one one will ever understand the lows you hit while carb depleting and doing two or three a days. Nobody. No one one will get why you eat a chicken breast and brown rice while everyone else is having pizza.

"One slice won't kill you" They'll say.
"One beer won't matter" they'll say
"You can work it off tomorrow" they'll say.

But you remain strong and turn it away and no one understands.

No one understands.

No one understands except your brothers at arms. A brotherhood forged not by friendships or allegiances--hell, you might not even like these guys. But you understand, and you respect them.

Because they understand.

They understand the long weeks and months of training. They--or should I say we--understand the training. The hours that turn to days, the days that turn to weeks, that weeks that turn to months  the months that turn into a lifestyle.   There are no off days for a bodybuilder, and even a cheat meal is bitter sweet as you wonder about what your competition is eating.

We understand the insanity it takes to compete in a sport of myths and legends. Mortals with Herculean physiques crafted--not given--with painstaking dedication and toil. 

We understand that every muscle fiber we feel tear is a microscopic advance in our war to grow or get defined. Every drop of sweat and blood a wink from your body telling you you're doing something right.  The scars on our legs and the callous on our hands aren't deformations or something we want to fix. They're a badge of honor and integrity a memento of the work we've put in and will put in.

The liquids, pills and powders aren't cheats they're the foundation. Pre-, Intra-, and Post- aren't prefixes they're the key, the tools that help us carve our physique.  The catalyst, fuel, and cure for our plight, our disease.

We understand the lows of carb depletion and water deprivation.
We understand the highs of victory!
The smell of protan isn't disgusting. It's the smell of victory. Whether you place or not, your presence on that stage after months of work is your victory.

But oh, what a feeling to hold up that trophy after your names been called and what a feeling it is when your name isn't called. A constant tug of war of emotions culminating on a stage in front of hundreds, yet so very alone with yourself.


"One slice won't kill you? One beer won't hurt? You'll work it off tomorrow"
The words of someone who's an outsider.
They think "no difference"
but you know better.
Your competition knows better.
The pizza can wait.

The outside world doesn't understand.
Hell, sometimes, we don't understand.
But we understand the passion, the desire, the work and dedication it takes.
We understand.

When no one else does.
We do.

Train hard.
Get big.
Have a great 2011 Season.

"All of time and space, everything that ever was or ever will be... where do you want to start?"

Where would you go if you could go anywhere? Anytime? One condition, it has to be amazing. Where do you want to start?