Friday, August 26, 2016

Speech I: Amelie

 I started practicing my public speaking! I warned you that I would start writing speeches with a group called Toastmasters International. It's been pretty interesting so far. The first project is an icebreaker to see where a person is and where they need practise. This is my first speech.
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Speech I: Amelie
Have you ever seen the movie Amelie? The beginning lists the main characters, and some of the simple things that they enjoy. Amelie’s father likes ripping long strips of paper off the wall, and her mother enjoys cleaning out her purse. This is Alice. She enjoys sorting coins and wiping water spots off stainless steel. 

 She wasn’t always Alice. This is also Ally. Ally is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed devil. When she gets warmed up, she is intimidating and aggressive. She is almost more trouble than she’s worth, almost. She is a manic pixie dream girl. 

This was Rachel. Rachel was quiet, awkward, and ignored. Rachel was annoying. Rachel was a loner. She was Michelle for a year. Michelle was even quieter than Rachel. She will never be Rachel again.

Rachel was a rebellion from Alice. Alice was the first. Alice was small, confused, jealous, and unloved.
This is Alistair. Alistair never talks, but he pats Alice on the head and lets her know when she is doing the right thing.  He defends the girls when they are hard on themselves and each other.

No matter what I call myself, I am at my core loyal, adventurous, awkward, and quiet until I warm up. I enjoy the satisfaction of a job well-done, like the feeling you get when you wipe the last water spots off stainless steel.

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    As you can imagine, this was a very short speech. I couldn't quite get away from my poetic background which favors concise language for better flow. For an icebreaker speech, it was all right. This is a good base, and with the constructive feedback the group provides (we're all just practicing), I can only get better!

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Featured Poet: J L Farmer with "the american scream"

you always were my favourite
little shoegazer
even when you were
standing there
with the tears in your eyes
and your irises
pooling at your feet
telling me that we'd been all we were meant to be
and your thin voice disappeared
behind your thin hands
i still loved you
through the cracks between your fingers
but everything we did
was so small town
and there has been nothing
american dream about this place since
you landed on my tongue

like doomsday beach and we started
waging these tiny cold wars behind our teeth
it's no wonder the secrets our throats harbour
sleep in winter clothes and we have warheads
for hearts that only know how to wield love
like a nuclear deterrent
so we became an arms race
to someone else whose embrace
might be able to hold one of us together

remember
when we swore
wild horses couldn't tear us apart
when did you decide to let go
of not letting go
remember
when you swore
you would tear down the theocracy
of folded hands and bloody knuckles
that baptised me in sorrow
when did you decide you wanted to hold me
under too

you know
i used to love the way you made everything look
so effortless
until you did it with walking away as well
and although i'd never say
you turned my chest into a ghost town
i know why they're called that
now
it's like something detonated
in my chest
and you couldn't bear to live there anymore
and i swear
the streetlights in this place
never hung their heads
until you left

j.l.f

Friday, August 19, 2016

Heaven's Rod




By: Alice Parker

He took me to his home,
No one had gone before,
Perched on luminescent throne,
A god like those of yore.

From his regal brow,
Down to his noble thigh,
And muscle in between,
I took in with my eye.

He split me with his manhood,
He owns my pearly skin,
The pearls that tipped his god head,
Are safely housed within.

I glory in his figure,
I delight in every touch,
I worship him with rigor,
Until I cry, “Too much!”

I beg for my release,
His Olympic needs not sated,
His attentions do not cease,
Until his throbbing has abated.

How lucky then, am I?
A mortal for a god.
Content now just to lie,
No match for Heaven’s Rod.

Chaos Submission "Incident"

This is the poem I submitted to Witness Magazine back in March. I heard back from the magazine in July that my poem was not chosen. Now that I have heard back from them, I am free to publish it here. 

Incident  
By: Alice Parker

No forced entry. Well,
Not the home.

Tell them I was strong.

There were signs of a struggle
And blood at the scene

Tell them I was brave.

She must have known him and he
Brutally knew her.

Tell them that I pushed him off and he left.

No sirens blared or
Blue and reds flashed.

Tell them I survived,

She was already
Dead.

And I’m how you heard about it in the first place.