Plagiarism begins at home..

[Ruffian]

Just browsing a book of 101 poems that can change your life.. Made me think.. there are some clever people here.. some witty, some sad, some funny, some lonely..

Anyone care to write in 101 words a short story of love.. Doesn't have to turn out good or have a happy ending.. but a story that can touch your heart..

There's about 100 words here that have hopefully made you think.. which is a good thing whatever the reaction... and if I can take some inspiration from your tale.. then its been worthwhile..

..else.. just ignore me..

[suzanne]

> Just browsing a book of 101 poems that can change your life..
> Made me think.. there are some clever people here.. some witty,
> some sad, some funny, some lonely..

> Anyone care to write in 101 words a short story of love..
> Doesn't have to turn out good or have a happy ending.. but a
> story that can touch your heart..

> There's about 100 words here that have hopefully made you
> think.. which is a good thing whatever the reaction... and if I
> can take some inspiration from your tale.. then its been
> worthwhile..

> ..else.. just ignore me..

how do you write anything coherent in 101 words?

[Librarian on Fire]

"And then when I kissed you in new places I could faintly smell the scent of your lover's perfume crushed into your body. You tire and roll over feigning a nights good sleep over our lovemaking. I know you've reserved this for someone else. Maybe the lure of the security of tea and telly no longer holds for you. I gaze at your sleeping body, the scarlet bow of your lips which now tastes of someone elses. The arch of your slim dark eyebrows. I become a romantic vouyer. You roll over and I trace the constellation of freckles on your shoulders for the last time."

Librarian on Fire

[Librarian on Fire]

"But why me?"
"Why not" comes the reply.
"Yeah, but I don't have that much to offer"
"There's kindness in your eyes" you softly tell me.
"Is that what woman look for?" I ask confused.
"It's what I look for" her green eyes dance when she speaks. Her soft hand slides into mine and we climb the narrow flight of stairs side by side. We enter your cold room. Red light spills from a lamp beside the bed. Your room crowded with pictures on the walls and shelves, displayed at crooked angles. I want to explore the bookshelves and rummage through your record collection to find out more about you. You put your arms around my neck, smile coyly and whisper "Now".

Librarian on Fire with kindness in his eyes.

[Pretty Boy Floyd]

> how do you write anything coherent in 101 words?

Yeah right. He should write an essay in 900 words like you, just to explain that you are out of control and suffering from mental problems. Unfortunatelly just you are able to understand your writings.

[Pretty Boy Floyd]

If I say this is trash, probably you're going to reply with some clever post like: Oh, don;t you know who wrote this??--then you mention a name of some famous writer. But I insist, this thing "I kissed you in places I could faintly smell the scent of your...", this is laughable.

> "And then when I kissed you in new places I could faintly
> smell the scent of your lover's perfume crushed into your body.
> You tire and roll over feigning a nights good sleep over our
> lovemaking. I know you've reserved this for someone else. Maybe
> the lure of the security of tea and telly no longer holds for
> you. I gaze at your sleeping body, the scarlet bow of your lips
> which now tastes of someone elses. The arch of your slim dark
> eyebrows. I become a romantic vouyer. You roll over and I trace
> the constellation of freckles on your shoulders for the last
> time."

> Librarian on Fire

[Pretty Boy Floyd]

'Are you sure they are not going to notice my problem?'
'No, you're just ok. Go and sing your best song'
'Get real! I'm just an Elvis impersonator! It's not real art.'
'Fine, but we both know that's not a real hair on your head, right? What difference does it make? They are here to see you'
'You make me so depressed, Zelda!'
'Depressed?? Did you say depressed? Let me put Maladjusted on your cd player, then you'll know what's really depressing'

[Lawrence Mikkelsen]

OK Mr. Pretty Boy Floyd (Byrds fan, or Woody Gutherie fan?), what exactly is wrong with LoF's contribution? (and I'm sure it's his, not someone else's) I thought it was excellent, especially "the constellation of freckles on your shoulders" - some songwriters will struggle their entire lives to come up with a line like that.

Nice one, LoF. You can write my essays for me anytime.

[Pretty Boy Floyd]

> OK Mr. Pretty Boy Floyd (Byrds fan, or Woody Gutherie fan?),
> what exactly is wrong with LoF's contribution

Wait, i didn't say 'wrong'. it's a matter of taste. I don't like writers who just describe atmosphere, and that's his case. it's so empty.

(and I'm sure
> it's his, not someone else's) I thought it was excellent,
> especially "the constellation of freckles on your
> shoulders" - some songwriters will struggle their entire
> lives to come up with a line like that.

> Nice one, LoF. You can write my essays for me anytime.

[Pretty Boy Floyd]

send me your list of fav writers, please.

[Lawrence Mikkelsen]

me, or LoF?

mine ......

George Orwell
Paul Auster
C.S. Lewis.
Don DiLillo
John Steinbeck
Douglas Coupland
A.S. Byatt
Arthur C. Clarke
Mary Doria Russell

.... off the top of my head. All for different reasons .....

[Librarian on Fire]

> Wait, i didn't say 'wrong'. it's a matter of taste. I don't like
> writers who just describe atmosphere, and that's his case. it's
> so empty.

Hey it has to be around 100 words! It was just something I strung together during a lunch hour. Not something submitted to Penguin. Lighten up. And I'm looking forward to reading yours. Someone suggests something a little bit diffrent and some of us get into the sprit of it all. Not to be knocked down.

[Pretty Boy Floyd]

> me, or LoF?

> mine ......

> George Orwell
> Paul Auster
> C.S. Lewis.
> Don DiLillo
> John Steinbeck
> Douglas Coupland
> A.S. Byatt
> Arthur C. Clarke
> Mary Doria Russell

> .... off the top of my head. All for different reasons .....
wich are??????

mine:
Salinger
Hemingway
Voltaire
Shakespeare (I know, it's a cliché, but I never stop to read him)
Petronius (satiricon)
Gorki (a genius!!!!)
Jean Genet
Rimbaud
Kafka, etc, etc... all for different reasons

[Pretty Boy Floyd]

> Hey it has to be around 100 words! It was just something I
> strung together during a lunch hour. Not something submitted to
> Penguin. Lighten up. And I'm looking forward to reading yours.
> Someone suggests something a little bit diffrent and some of us
> get into the sprit of it all. Not to be knocked down.

I have a plot, but I need to work on it. it's about an Elvis impersonator who happens to be a murderer (Morrissey?). I'm not a writer, but I'll try.

[SimplyThrilledHoney]

> I have a plot, but I need to work on it. it's about an Elvis
> impersonator who happens to be a murderer (Morrissey?). I'm not
> a writer, but I'll try.

share your thought .... sing your life

[suzanne]

> I have a plot, but I need to work on it. it's about an Elvis
> impersonator who happens to be a murderer (Morrissey?). I'm not
> a writer, but I'll try.

Oh the little engine that could, you are! chugaluga chugaluga chuguluga woo woo!!!

Wait, you are giving this other person grief when you are about to blatantly rip off 3000 Miles to Graceland!

Ha! That's @#!!!ing worse! Librarian on fire, don't lay down and take the criticisms of this flim flam!

"oooh, I'm so sorry. I whipped this out at lunch!"

you should be ashamed of yourself!

And here is my ode to the anonymous guy:

His name is Tando
But I call him Mongo
Like the other @#!!!ehead maniacs
Living in LA
And I'm sad for Palare
Coz he'll be sorry
Coz he'll be at the counter working
While Tando is hiding in new releases jerking
his pud to Kurt Russell

[Pretty Boy Floyd]

[SimplyThrilledHoney]

great topic starter .....

Not mine (alas) but I was thinkng of my favourite love-song lyrcs, and this one came immediately to mind. It's from "Night Of Chill Blue" by The Chills. (New Zealand's finest indie band ever.)

It's the night of chill blue and I'd like to say how I love you
But it's all been said in other songs and if I try to say it new
then I'll say it wrong
So I think of you, the only one
I wish it was just us two
But it'syou and me and us - that's three
Twinkling stars over foreign lands
Silent camel train on deseret sands
It's the night of chill blue and I hope to God you feel this too.

Backed with shimmeing guitars, of course, it melted my heart the first time I heard it.

S_T_H
xxx

[Librarian on Fire]

> Just browsing a book of 101 poems that can change your life.. Made me
> think.. there are some clever people here.. some witty, some sad, some
> funny, some lonely..

> Anyone care to write in 101 words a short story of love.. Doesn't have to
> turn out good or have a happy ending.. but a story that can touch your
> heart..

> There's about 100 words here that have hopefully made you think.. which is
> a good thing whatever the reaction... and if I can take some inspiration
> from your tale.. then its been worthwhile..

> ..else.. just ignore me..

"How many other lovers have you had? Matt asked.
"What?" Gemma snorted. "Lovers! Nobody uses that word anymore. Gemma sat upright in the bed, pushing back the pillow against the bedhead.
"What you really want to know is how many fucks I've had isn't it?" Gemma was wide awake now, her voiced loud in the small bedroom. Gemma lent over toward matt's ear, her breasts showing the washed out tatto with the ink spilling out of it's dark outlines. Matt thought it looked ugly, like a child's attempt at colouring in pictures. "Say it Matt, fucks fucks FUCKS!. Her voice becoming louder with each insult and finally shouting the last barb at him. Matt turned away from her and rolled out of bed, his ear ringing. He looked around the semi darkened room for his clothes. There was just enough grey early morning light coming through the curtains for him to find them where he had left them last night. Discarded in a hasty heap. He quickly dressed. From the bed he could hear Gemma singing to herself in a childish voice, "fuck fuck fuckity fuck". Dressed Matt looked over to Gemma, she held up both hands palms spread wide towards him. "10'? asked Matt, Gemma made a fist with both hands, then opened them wide again. "20" said Matt hesitatingly. Gemma laughed out loud at him, a laugh where there was only one person laughing. Turning Matt rushed for the door, arms streached out wide towards him, he opened it and escaped into the silent hallway. Hearing the door close behind him, Matt dragged his hands through his sleep slack hair and whispered to himself "20 - 1".

Librarian on Fire.

Sorry about the language.

[Ruffian]

> "How many other lovers have you had? Matt asked. +

Good to see one of the best (ignored) threads of the year getting resurrected..a nd I like this tale.. It's very seedy and atmospehirc but entertaining.. Surely Matts count would be 2 as he left though?

Happy Christmas mate..
R