Wordgrove Post & Review

Quoted in the Grove:
A leader must have the courage to act against an expert’s advice.
~James Callaghan

The sky turned black with the flapping wings of chickens coming home to roost.
~James Callaghan

There are no instant solutions.
~James Callaghan

~~

Posted from the Grove:

Two by Request:
Bleak and sad by turn, there’s the music and the lyrics for expression in these videos, but watch for the rest of the story as it unfolds in their eyes. Note the added dimension, their phrasings and utterance as the songs get told, stripped down souls without disguise.

~Moby: Porcelain   (3:10)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IDLDrcgU9g

~Gwen Stefani: Used to Love You   (3:47)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeT_nYtjgTQ

~

~David Lynch: On Creativity   (2:34)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNufijIDD-Q&feature=youtu.be

Embroidered Zoetrope: Earliest movies woven of yarn. Two minutes of old-fashioned eye candy to the mesmerizing music of modern trance (2:10)
http://elliotschultz.com/work/embroidered-zoetrope/

Popcorn bustin’ its kernal at 15,000 frames per second, super slo-mo, super hot, super kool (1:43)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DDigjlBlSY8&feature=youtu.be

(Thx to Rusty Blazenhoff)

~~

Prewritten for Thurs (02/02) @6pm PT/9 ET is: trap door, boa, crap shoot, burlesque   (any 2 or 3 out of 4)

~~

@Writers Platform

Prewritten: rim, stampede, ritual

~MissMerry: Prewritten by MM

Observing the ancient rituals…
Boy sees girl, asks girl out to dinner.
Sitting staring above a candle,
her tongue slides along the rim of her wineglass
as her eyes smile.
His thoughts dance, his heart beats
a stampede through his chest.
He notes the swell of her breasts,
the curve of her cheek,
the stray curl that keeps escaping
to dangle against her brow
which she keeps trying to tuck behind her ear.
He feels a jolt as he realizes
She is the one.
She notes the new haircut,
his cologne that lingers in her senses
from the hug she gave him when he picked her up,
his quiet smile, and kind eyes.
These are the things she wants to remember.
That this night is just the beginning,
as she imagines his face as it may be in 30 years…
As she surprises herself, realizing,
He is the one.
These are the moments to savor
and keep precious forever.

~

~Greymane: Native Need

A distant thunder rolling midnight clouds across the plain
The tribe waits on the canyon rim in ritual restrain
A million heavy hoof beats drum a desperate last stampede
Another crimson winter when the desert starts to bleed

~

~Piffin: “Slow-Motion Stampede”

I’m out of the gate and you clutch at the sheets
With every kiss that I plant
My lips go down and your breath picks up
With the cadence of a ritual chant
Salt and lime on the rim of a glass
Help me to map out the ride
Taking my time on the rim of your ass
As snow piles up outside

~

~BarTalk: Pamplona Bull

~~

Impromptu:
Listen to the howling wind in this video…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eILoQChD_A

…while viewing this live action feed of Odin’s snow covered parking lot in Reykjavik, Iceland
http://myndavel.hve.is/view/index.shtml

_____

~Piffin: Tip

Half past midnight.

I sat in the car and waited.

I smoked a cigarette, looked out at the snow and ice.

There weren’t many vehicles in the parking lot at this hour, so I kept mine off, so as not to draw attention.

It was windy outside. Every now and again, a gust would rock the car. I was starting to grow cold.

I spotted Kacy cutting across the lot. She was bundled up: mittens and a parka; leg warmers and fur boots. She kept slipping on the ice, finally slowed her roll to a penguin step.

She made it to the car, got in the passenger side.

“It’s ass cold out,” she said, slamming the car door.

“You got it?” I asked.

“The fuck you think I’m doing out here?” she responded, handing me the bindle.

I gave her the cash.

She counted it.

“We good?” I asked.

She nodded. She didn’t get out of the car.

“We’re good, right?” I pressed.

“Yeah, we’re aces,’ she said. “But, if it’s no big, I could really use a ride out of here.”

I looked out the windshield. The ice. The snow.

“Kacy,” I said, “I’d love to give you a lift, but I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.”

She looked at me.

“For real?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Right here?”

I tore at the bindle.

“Okay, chica,” she said, opening her door. “Catch you on the flipflop.”

She got out, slammed the door, walked off into the wind.

I unbuttoned my coat, took out my works.

I unzipped the case, opened it. The needle tip sparkled in the parking lot light.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

Not anytime soon.

~

~MissMerry: MM Impromptu

Prison guards with cold asses
stay in their towers and complain:
“What is this style wherein comely lasses
wear uniform pants?” – boggles the brain.

~

~Greymane: Impromptu

Warm behind my wall of glass
Senses opened wide
Desolation’s lullaby is howling just outside
Take shelter from the mournful winds that gather in the storm
He comes for those who turn away unable to keep warm
Wrapping icy promises with Winter’s frigid breeze
he plays his windy symphony with breathe he cannot freeze

~

~BarTalk: Reykjavik Storm

~ . ~